This weekend I had the pleasure of visiting Leicester. I would like to say it was one of the most vibrant, beautiful cities with a great history, but unfortunately that is not the case. If anything, I feel like living there would be like having an emotional hoover attached to your neck that sucks all the happiness out of your body and slowly destroys your mind.

That aside, once I’d had more cider than I care to think about, two cocktail pitchers and some shots, everything was just perfect. We went to a bar called ‘Rainbow and Dove’ which I thin is like Leicester’s version of an upmarket gay bar. Admittedly, it wasn’t the most upmarket bar I have ever been to, but it was still good and relatively cheap. Me and Stefan enjoyed getting very drunk and making friends with lots of Leicester folk, who I hope didn’t think we were too weird…

Later we found ourselves in a club called Helsinki, which for those familiar with Manchester, is basically a club that’s just as cheap and nasty as AXM in the Gay Village. I have to give it to them though, despite the club being the least desirable establishment ever, the music and lighting was pretty good from what I remember.

The end of the evening saw me smothering a kebab across my face and making sweet, sweet love to it. It was beautiful. There’s a takeaway in Manchester called Janams that I’ve become obsessed with as it’s perfect after a night out, but the Kebab I had in Leicester was even better. Heaven!

The end of the evening saw us checking in to our hotel, which was a 2-star, £40 per night hostel that was plonked on top of a six-storey car park. No joke, it was a proper dive and a very big change to the usual 5-star luxury that us Windsor’s are used to.

Sunday morning saw me waking up with the sorest throat ever. My tonsils had tripled in size and my tongue was rougher than B&Q’s industrial sandpaper. I was horribly rough. There is only one thing that can cure such a terrible hangover, and that’s a full English breakfast from Weatherspoons. I wouldn’t usually visit such an establishment, but for the first time ever, I didn’t mind being surrounded by common folk drinking beer at 9:30 in the morning.

All in all, I had a good weekend in Leicester. Admittedly I think it’s down to me and Stefan getting drunk beyond belief and just ensuring we had a good night regardless, but still, I had fun! I may even go back, but lets not push it! It was surprising how many messages I got from people saying they saw me dancing (badly) in Helsinki on Saturday night too. The mood I was in, I’d have bought them all a drink too! Their loss!

Was also very nice to see Josh (happy birthday!), Reece, Darren, Jack and Liam!

On a side note, I know I am slacking with the updates recently, but life has been so busy! I have lots of things going on that I will write about soon, so please don’t give on me just yet!

Windsor Over & Out.

Original Article

One of the things of my extensive things of dislikes, is the benefit system. Though actually, the system itself isn’t that much of a bad thing if used responsibly by people who aren’t seeking to live their lives at the expense of others without ever striving to get a job. I appreciate that, at times the benefit system is incredibly important for people who genuinely want to work and feel almost ashamed to be on benefits. However, this country now plays host to some of the greediest, benefit leaching individuals possible who will forever believe that being on benefits is just too convenient to give up.

I personally find it very hard to understand why somebody wouldn’t want to strive to have a good career and try to make as much money as possible. I can only conclude that low confidence and low skilled people are too work shy to even entertain the idea of doing a full days work because they feel inferior to everybody else. Build a bridge and get over it.

[caption id=”attachment_895” align=”alignleft” width=”294” caption=”Fifteen minutes a week is all it takes.”][/caption]

Through an incredibly generous range of benefits given by the Government, it encourages these undesirable members of society to do nothing with their lives, but instead to live off the hard work of others. It was in 1997 when Tony Blair said that the country had “reached the limits”, but as it turns out, it hadn’t. We’re still here now and getting paid for doing nothing is easier than ever.

For those of us that go to work and pay taxes, we are the ones supporting this greedy, lazy and idle lifestyle. I have seen first hand how much money people can waste on these benefits: when I worked for Barclays I saw people fritter their money away week after week. These people had absolutely no desire to work, because so long as they had free food on their table and a roof over there head, what more did they need?

I despise such people. I do not believe that anybody should be allowed to live their lives at the expensive of other people, but they should instead be made to prove they actually need this money. For those that do not have an obvious desperate requirement for this money, then get rid of it. For those who have spent their lives so far thinking that it’s acceptable to leach off everybody else, make them pay back what they have already stolen. I use the word stolen, because if they are able to find ways of earning money without having it handed to them but choose not to, then as far as I am concerned, they are guilty of taking what is not rightfully theres.

I believe the problem could be solved quite easily: stop having children, start working and stop leaching off the rest of us. There is more work out there than you think, so get up off your backside and do something about it.

Original Article

I have recently tried to stop posting blogs in anger or retaliation to what I see online, but on this one occasion I’m going to defy all the progress I have made so far. This evening I want to talk about the breed of gay that I hate the most. These are the gays that think dying their hair a stupid colour and plastering their faces in foundation of the wrong colour is a good look. These are the gays that are ‘brutal’ and ‘famous’ on the Internet and no matter what you say, they will always be better.

This evening I had the absolute pleasure of speaking to one of this beasts as they posted a status on Facebook questioning why people are homophobic. Let me just show you why I believe people might have a problem with these breeds:

[gallery]

I know that this is not just limited to one person and that this disease is in fact a trend that people who want to be ‘different’ are following. Unfortunately, such trends are the ones that reinstate peoples dislike for the gay community. In one of my previous blogs I commented on the progress that has been made in recent years, but people like this just throw all that away.

It doesn’t look good, it’s not ‘unique’ and you are not the ‘confident, cocky, gorgeous bitch’ that you say you are. Looking like this limits you in so many ways. I mean, what reputable organisation would give a job to somebody that looks like that.

Change your look, your hurting my god damn eyes.

Original Article

[caption id=”attachment_1029” align=”alignright” width=”240” caption=”It’s just over there —>”][/caption]

As you may have seen previously, I installed a ‘Like’ button on here a few weeks ago. After having a nightmare the first time trying to get it to work, I was even more furious yesterday when my blogs stopped posting to Facebook automatically and my Like button stopped working.

What have I done wrong in my life to deserve such punishment?

I’ve got a new application now that means all my blog posts will automatically feed through to Facebook. What does this mean for you? It means you will never get away from me. What does this mean for me? I have to stop messing with it and just leave it to do its job.

I have also added a new ‘Blog Categories’ section that will allow you to browse blogs posted in a particular category. For example, this one would be posted under ‘Windsor Blog News’ because it’s a theme of my blog. I’ll leave you to figure it out for yourselves. I haven’t bothered going through hundreds of previous blog posts and assigning a category to them all, but from now on I will make sure I do.

I’m also trying to tweak the Gallery so that images display better for your browser. I have hundreds of pictures that I keep promising to upload but I never get around to it. I will do it at some point… I promise.

Moving away from the geeky talk, I’d like to tell you all how tired I am. I’ve been getting up at 5:30 this week as I’ve had the misfortune of working the early shift at work. I went for one of my infamous sit-down toilet breaks this afternoon and nearly fell asleep on the side of the cubicle.

Over and out.

Original Article

Original Article

Goodbye

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Unfortunately I’m not about to start writing about something rude, sexual or gay despite the misleading blog title. Perhaps you didn’t find it as rude as myself, in which case you are obviously a lot more mature than myself - congratulations.

I’ve had what I would consider to be a busy weekend, which is probably why I’m slumped over my desk trying desperately hard to keep my eyes open by slapping my cheek every thirty seconds. Last week I was up at 5:30 every morning as I had the misfortune of working the early shift at work. Getting the train to work at that time is fun, as it’s the only time in human history that falling asleep on a total stranger is acceptable. Thank you to the five human pillows that I enjoyed last week!

Me and James, one of the close friends from work finished at 3:30 and got changed, ready to ‘get on it’, which in the heterosexual vocabulary means to get drunk. We went to one of my all time hated restaurants - Nandos where I inhaled a chicken burger and some of those surpassingly enjoyable spicy chips, despite me absolutely despising Nandos. We then headed to Walkabout, which is a very tacky but ridiculously cheap Australian bar where it’s buy one get one free on Strongbow. It’s rude not to, really.

In a change to my usual gay haunts, I went to Revolution on the Locks, which is basically where people who think they’re slightly better than everybody else go. Unfortunately, this has led to it becoming everybody’s favourite place so I no longer believe it’s any better than anywhere else. I showed all my straight friends from work a thing or two on the dance floor. I’m the guy that made Beyonce the excellent booty-shaker that she is today…

So as the night drew to a close, I had the pleasure of getting the night bus back to my house. I don’t even need to tell you what a delight that was - being stuck in close proximity to lots of loud, drunk and often sick people.  Interestingly though, there was somebody on the back seat in hysterics because he had ‘failed’ as a teacher because he left the school he was teaching in. I felt like drop kicking him.

Anyway, Saturday saw me having a nice lazy day but then going out in the evening, again. I visited a student bar in the city centre, which was…. Different. I’m not going to lie to you, I didn’t like it and there is no way I’ll ever be going back. The drinks weren’t even that cheap! I expected so much more. I won’t shame the bar/pub that I was in, but if you have me on Facebook then you’ll know where I am talking about.

This brings us very nicely on to Sunday. I woke up by the sound of mum shouting, which is quite a familiar feeling these days and then realised how much my back hurts after sleeping on my absolutely ridiculous bed. It’s been broken and just keeps getting worse which means my spine has now changed shape completely. I can’t believe I actually pay money to my mum to let me sleep here!

This afternoon I met my dearest friend Georgia from school, who as usual was 54 minutes late to pick me up. We enjoyed what must have been the most satisfying yet stomach crippling roast dinner from a top notch carvery. It was absolute bliss. I feel like I should take up bulimia or something so I can justify eating it.

The thing about Georgia, is that she’s just so special. I don’t even know where to start. How many girls do you know that would ring you and instead of saying hello, tell you how they’re on their period and their cervix is doing summersaults? How many girls do you know that would take their hands off the steering wheel for at least 3 minutes whilst doing their own version of some hip-hop song?

So all in all, it’s been a pretty good weekend… I do have quite a few topics lined up that I believe are blog worthy. I’ll get round to sticking these up soon. I’m also going to start doing a slightly more serious than usual blog titled ‘Windsor Weekly’ that will look at topic from current affairs and I’ll be stamping my own royal opinion on it.

I’m off to bed in my freezing cold bedroom now as my radiator is broke. Try getting up in the morning when it’s -10!

Original Article

A blog this amazing does not survive without hours of hard labour by myself and a team of dedicated professionals. I’m sure you will congratulate them (and me) on the fantastic work that they are I am doing to ensure that things are all going smoothly and looking amazing. Now I’ve got the crap out of the way - here’s some really bad news for you!

The company that kindly hosts this blog gives me 2GB of bandwidth each month, which basically means I’m allowed 2GB of ‘stuff’ to be transferred from my website to other people. Every time you click on a new page or view a new blog I have posted, it will use bandwidth downloading the new images that are then displayed on your computer. Do you see where I am going with this?

[caption id=”attachment_887” align=”alignleft” width=”171” caption=”Ooops.”][/caption]

Considering we are half way through the second month of the year, and taking into consideration my 2GB/per month allowance, my very maximum limit should be 4GB. Unfortunately though, this is not quite the case and instead I have used a phenomenal 22.53GB! In January I used 10GB!

Why is that a problem, I hear you ask. It’s a problem because in the terms and conditions of my hosting agreement, I am liable to pay for any bandwidth that is outside of my agreement. As you can see, in a month and a half I have nearly used my allowance for the entire year. I’m not even doing anything naughty like hosting a selection of porn movies that are only viewable to certain people!

I feel like an actual criminal, who is terrified of having the cyber police spam my inbox demanding that I pay charges for going over my limit. It’s like having my very first contract phone all over again!

Original Article

David Cameron today said he was ‘appalled’ by the Supreme Court’s ruling to allow convicted sex offenders appeal having their name placed on the sex offenders for life. As you can imagine, I couldn’t let this opportunity pass without having something to say about it, especially with me being such a human rights activist…

Cameron said that the Government would take the ‘minimum possible approach to this ruling’ and has pledged to review loopholes in the register, forcing offenders to report any travel plans to the authorities and ensuring that names can’t be changed using a deed poll.

So what’s the problem with this? Well Cameron himself said that the ruling “seems to fly completely in the face of common sense”, but with me and the Prime Minister being such good friends, I know that what he really means is “it’s bullshit”. That’s exactly what I think, because as far as I am concerned, once you act so inhumane that you become a convicted sex offender, you deny yourself any human rights you may have had previously. If you make the decision to cause such devastation in the life of an innocent person, then you have absolutely no right to make yourself out to be a victim.

[caption id=”attachment_883” align=”alignleft” width=”300” caption=”These people are not human.”][/caption]

Convicted sex offenders should be made public and their names should be available for everybody to get hold of. If it so happens that they get back from the shops and all their windows are smashed, then so be it. Why should we protect people who have committed such monstrous crimes that will affect the entire lives of other people?

Who was protecting the victim whilst these people committed their crimes?

I posted a summarised version of this blog elsewhere and many of the comments asked ‘what if they were under the influence of drugs or alcohol’.

Can I please ask you - when you’re drunk, do you feel the urge to rape somebody? I didn’t think so.

As far as I am concerned, when you commit a crime so terrible, you instantly surrender your human rights. Life’s a bitch.

Original Article

Celebrities come in all shapes and sizes, wear various types of extravagant clothing and preach about how much they love their fans, but Lady Gaga is not content with being ‘different’, she wants to redefine herself every time we see her. She’s gained a huge followed and has been propelled into the life of a worldwide celebrity, gaining a huge following from the younger audience. I have one major problem with Lady Gaga though: I just don’t like her.

At first, when she released ‘Just Dance’ it was a catchy song that I quite enjoyed listening to on my way to work. Then came Poker Face, which was also a catchy song that I also enjoyed listening to on my way to work. That’s when things started to get a little bit too much for me. I’m a big believer in people just being themselves regardless of what other people may think - but do you really think Gaga is an accurate role model for people who want to get the confidence to just ‘be themselves’? I mean, how many of us wake up in the morning and think “today I’m going to make my clothes out of raw meat”? This is not ‘different’ or ‘unique’, it’s a commercial stunt to push the boundaries as far as you can in a bid to always be that one that people look forward to seeing.

How many intelligent people actually think Lady Gaga is a role model, really? She does not encourage people to do anything, instead she seeks to create a fantasy world of her own where her fans, or ‘Little Monsters’ as she likes to call them are there to protect her. Lady Gaga is not influential, nor is she an inspiration or an icon, she’s just like everybody else with a bit of extra spice.

[caption id=”attachment_867” align=”alignleft” width=”279” caption=”You aren’t unique anymore. I’m sorry.”][/caption]

I know it was good at first, even I thought she was a bit quirky and obviously was the refreshing change that the commercial music industry needed but now it’s just got out of control.

Furthermore, I fail to see why people treat Lady Gaga as some sort of religion? Is it the fact that she addresses you like some sort of army and you need a somebody to idolise because your life is that dependant on other people? What is it that makes Lady Gaga your ‘idol’? She’s got lucky by writing a few interesting songs and wearing stupid costumes - that idea is old now. Lady Gaga will die out and nobody will be able to match that. That’s not because she was so amazing or inspiration, it’s just because she had the idea of being a drama queen and she’s already done it.

You really need to stop loving her so much - do you really think she cares about you? So long as you’re buying her records and paying her absurd salary, she’ll tell you anything to keep you coming back for more. That’s all you are to her, just a very small component of a huge corporate machine.

Lady Gaga is over already. There is nothing else left for her to do, unless she turns into a normal singer and is content with being normal, which I suspect is very is unlikely. The mythical ‘Haus of Gaga’ will soon be nothing more than an old shed, ignored by many but still a humble home for many loyal followers still trying to relive the Gaga period.

You all need to star calming down about this girl, because she’s really nothing special anymore. Her songs may be catchy but her dresses aren’t classy, she’s just a bit trashy. Yes, I did intentionally make that rhyme. Perhaps I could sing something equally as crap whilst wearing a stupid dress? I could call myself Lady WindWind…

It has to stop, this lady is nothing. You are nothing. Stop following her like she’s your icon. Stop dressing up like her. Stop quoting Lady Gaga lyrics on your status. Stop saying you were “born this way” because you’ll die that way if you carry on.

[caption id=”attachment_822” align=”aligncenter” width=”230” caption=”Yes, I went there gurlfriend. “][/caption]

Original Article

All week people have been asking me when my Valentines day blog will be going up, which I’m not sure is a good thing because you obviously all think I’m some heartless, relationship hating pessimist. Though you didn’t honestly think I would let this day pass without having a few words to say about it, did you? Good, because here goes.

I’ve never really been much of a Valentines Day person, even when I did have a boyfriend. I remember buying some ‘romantic’ (overpriced) chocolates for him but I ate half of them before I got chance to give them to him because I couldn’t afford to buy my lunch. I’ve always been a real romantic - as you can tell… Our valentines day pretty much consisted of sitting in my room catching up on Coronation Street and playing games on my laptop, which in hind sight sounds like a perfect saturday anyway.

My absolute pet hate about Valentines, is when my Facebook news feed is littered with sympathy seeking single children who think their entire life will come crashing down because they will be single over Valentines day. It is not the end of your life, or mine, or anybody else’s - we will still be alive on February 15th! If we don’t make it, I’ll buy you a pint in heaven. Deal?

[caption id=”attachment_854” align=”aligncenter” width=”300” caption=”As you can see, my Graphic Design degree has served me well. “][/caption]

The majority of people I see in relationships these days are merely doing it because it seems like an adult thing to do. Having a relationship does not make you any more mature than anybody else, especially when it’s clear that your relationship is rushed and has no substantial foundation to it.

The day after Valentines Day is a bit like Boxing Day, all the excitement is over and people are prepared to sell themselves at half their usual selling price.

The thing about valentines day that I can’t stand, is how you can pretty much buy something from a shop the is apparently meant to show how much you love somebody. No amount of roses, chocolates or cherry flavoured lubricant will ever make me believe that somebody loves me more than they already do. I admire the guy that thought taking Valentines Day into the commercial would be a good idea, because I reckon he’s a very wealthy man now.

I personally think you all need to grow up a bit and stop acting like Valentines day is either the most exciting or depressing day of your life. Do you really need to be that dependant on somebody else? If you believe that being single on Valentines Day is a bad thing, what about all the other days of the year? Are you emotionally unstable on those days too? You clearly are far too influenced by the (pathetic and often childish) friends that have relationships and go into overdrive about how amazing their partner is.

Shut up, man up and stop clogging up my bloody news feed with your childhood depression.

Original Article

For those of you that watch the news, read a newspaper or just listen in to other peoples conversations on the bus, you may have heard about the proposal by ministers to allow gay marriages to take place in a church. In recent years, a civil partnership has allowed gay couples to tie the knot from a legal perspective, but many people have argued that it’s still not full equality and the idea of a civil partnership is still somewhat second class to a marriage.

The Church of England has, rather selfishly said that they will not allow any of their buildings to be used for a same sex ceremony, although other faiths have said they don’t have a problem with it. More rational and modern-thinking religious groups such as Quakers, Unitarians and Liberal Jews have supported the proposal and will be applying for their buildings to hose the same sex ceremonies.

What is my view on this?

I think it’s a good idea. I know some people choose to follow a religion for whatever reason, but it seems to be the most ‘convenient’ thing ever. Religion is used as an excuse to deny rational change just because thousands of years ago, some bloke scribbled a few notes down. Look, I don’t have a problem with religion, but when you start trying to slow down and even stop changes that are justified and will benefit many people, that’s when it starts to get to me.

I’ve never done anything to you, so why are you being so selfish?

For those people that still think homosexuality is a sin, I encourage you to drive your car into a garage, close the garage door, sit in your car with the engine on and the windows down. In a fast paced and ever changing society, we can’t have people like you going around saying that just because we are gay, we are inferior to anybody else.

Some wise guy posted the below on the Telegraph website in response to the news.

“Some gays justify their deviant lifestyle choice by claiming it’s ‘natural’, because animals also do it.
Animals also practice pedophilia and cannibalism.”

Some  All gays are also human beings who, perhaps like yourself, are able to adapt to change and will usually bounce back from the unjustified, outdated derogatory comments that you throw at them. I’m 18 years of age and I realise that our society is home to so many people, each with a very unique and diverse background. If you still believe that we will live in a majority heterosexual white Britain, you are mistaken.

I look forward to the outcome of this, and I really hope that this will serve as a precedence for all those old fashioned people who still think that hard working, education and generally just ‘cool’ people like me are mentally ill or cursed in some way. I have no time for you or your pathetic opinions.

Whilst trying to find a suitable picture for the blog, I came across this that I thought sums this whole scenario up better than anything else;

[caption id=”attachment_845” align=”aligncenter” width=”401” caption=”Definitely an accurate summary.”][/caption]

Original Article

I’m sorry for going quiet on you recently. You know what it’s like juggling dinner dates and movie premiers with some of the most famous people in the world. Though in all seriousness, I’ve been so busy with work that I just haven’t had the energy to update you all with more highly positive, insightful and engaging blogs! Even my usual masturbation routine has took a tumble due to me being so tired…

What’s been going on then? Well, ladies and gentlemen I took a trip back to school on Wednesday and it was really exciting. Unfortunately I didn’t get to wear a short tie with a huge knot, instead I went to conduct mock job interviews with year eleven students who are due to leave later this year. It was a great experience, albeit a little nerve wracking at first.

[caption id=”attachment_831” align=”alignleft” width=”240” caption=”This looks very complicated… “][/caption]

I could tell it was just going to be “one of those days” even before I got there. I was on the platform waiting for my train to Manchester, ten minutes early to be sure I didn’t miss it, but instead it decided to show up 25 minutes late. Great. As I sprint to work from the station, it starts to rain so I’m becoming increasingly sweaty and wet, which is probably the most attractive thing you have ever heard.

I get to work at about 9:30 and slowly walk over to my desk with my head down feeling like a naughty school boy. I did a bit of work for an hour and a half, had a meeting then set off for the school at midday.

Meeting me at the school was a smiling receptionist who asked me to sign in whilst she handed me a visitors pass. I felt so special and important, it was a weird feeling. I remember when I was in school and we had visitors come in who we all used to stare at - I was one of them! The smell of the school was so unique, the unloved wooden floor in the sports hall that doubled up as a playground at lunch was the most memorable thing of the day. I remember the drain pipes running through the corridors, the students staring at me as I walk past them all in the corridors and the teachers looking at me trying to establish whether or not if they have seen me in the staff room before.

I’m shown into a room that has red plastic chairs set out in a circle around a table of sandwiches and typical buffet style food items. On each chair sits somebody from what I presume to be different organisations and businesses in Manchester, chatting away with each other and talking about the kids they have interviewed in the morning. I got talking to a Graphic Designer who manages a team of ten at the BBC, an officer from the British Army and two Lawyers. There were all here to do the same as me, but they’d already done some interviews in the morning so it was good to hear what I was letting myself in for.

As the bell rang for the end of lunch, we headed out of the room and walked down to the sports hall where tables had been set out for us to conduct our interviews. Students lined the edge of the corridor that we walked down, stood in silence whilst they frantically try to do their top buttons up and lengthen their ties, presumably because they had been told that in the real world, you can’t dress like a scruff if you want a good job.

I took my place at my table, put my pen in front of me and began reading the CV, Cover Letter and Application Form of the first boy that I was going to be interviewing. It was quite interesting really, both because I was about to scare the life out of this guy, but also because it made me think about how I come across for the very first time when I have a job interview. Unlike these kids though, I’ve only had three job interviews in my life and I have got the job every time. I anticipate this to change and for me to be unemployed for the rest of my life now though…

As Jack walked in, I stood up and shook his hand. He was obviously very nervous and found it hard to maintain eye contact. I’m not sure what he was expecting, but he ended up with me who was probably more anxious than he was. I went through the standard interview routine, interrogating him about what he does in his spare time, what his friends and teachers are likely to say about him, what motivates him and what he can bring to a professional organisation. He answered well, despite finding it hard to maintain eye contact, but that was to be expected.

At the end of the interview I had to offer feedback on how I thought they did and offer points to improve on. I also had to comment on their quality of their CV and Cover Letter and help them try to make it stand out from the rest. I’d say I was quite constructive, which makes a change.

Just as I was getting up to leave, one of the school’s teachers came over to me and asked if I could do one more. She described him as “disaffected” and said that the “worse ones have been put last because we didn’t expect them to turn up. Be harsh with this one”.

I was absolutely amazed at what I had just been told. I’m not sure what the standard procedure for this sort of thing is, but I didn’t expect a teacher, who is meant to foster the development of every child regardless of how they behave, to be labelling this student different to any other.

As he approached, I could tell he was the typical ‘jack the lad’ sort of guy, but after speaking to him for a few minutes I learnt that he was indeed a good kid, but hadn’t yet learnt that impressing everybody in school is not always the way forward. It turns out he wants to be a Fireman when he’s older, and I was surprised to learn he’s researched it a lot and he has planned exactly how he was going to do it. When I approached the teacher about it, all she said was “yeah well he’ll be lucky”. I was absolutely furious, but I was powerless to do anything. I work in a bank, I can’t advise a teacher on how to treat her students, but I can still identify what I think is something hugely unprofessional.

All in all, the day was a success. I enjoyed myself and I hope I gave the kids something to think about. I’m not sure whether the school wanted us to go there and tell them how important it is to go to college, but I didn’t do that - that would be hypocritical of me. Instead, I told them that whilst they might not like school, it’s the point in their lives where they currently are, thus it’s important than every minute of every day, they work the hardest that they possibly can, as it’s still the gateway to other things, whether it’s education or not.

I’m doing a similar event in April, so I’ll be sure to let you know how that one goes. I always said I’d like to be a teacher, but now I’ve left education and have followed a path down the banking road, I’ll have to reassess my options later on in my life.

For the time being, I’ll just stick to being the “man that did some interview thing in the afternoon that got me out of double maths”….

Original Article

In todays technology age, where pretty much every person worth knowing owns a mobile phone and a computer, it’s no surprise that eventually websites tailored to the needs our of less confident population are popping up all over the place. Cam4 is a website that allows people to broadcast themselves live on webcam to hundreds, potentially thousands of people and ask you can imagine, it’s not often used for something you’d want your mother to see.

I’ve recently signed up for Cam4, in the name of research of course and I was amazed at how it works. The person broadcasting their picture encourages the viewers to donate ‘tokens’ in order for them to take their clothes off and do things to themselves. The whole idea of it, just seems so cheap and sleazy, it’s not even real prostitution, it’s almost as if you’re selling yourself out over the internet for some monopoly money - where’s the fun in that?

[caption id=”attachment_796” align=”alignleft” width=”215” caption=”Undoubtedly, one of the most ridiculous websites on the Internet.”][/caption]

After speaking to a friend (and loyal Cam4 user) about this, he said that Cam4 offers him an escape from the real world, but he never does anything untoward there. On a website where nearly every person is naked, am I really meant to believe you just sit there laughing, smiling and drinking tea? I believe Cam4 to be perfect for those people who seek to be validated by others and to be told they are attractive, despite the same heartless compliments being thrown about time and time again to whoever is prepared to get naked.

The beauty of Cam4, is that you can do whatever you want from the comfort of your own bedroom and when you can no longer be bothered, you just unplug your webcam. Though what type of people are likely to use such a distastefully convenient website? I’d say, based on my few hours of Cam4 research, that it’s the under confident, naive people who lack any degree of experience in the real world. Cam4 is ‘their boyfriend that they go home to’ where everybody says nice things to them to make them feel like they are truly wanted, but they can’t see what they are actually doing.

During my research (which did not involve me getting naked) I got speaking to a very intelligent young man who is currently studying at University in London who broadcasts on Cam4 regularly. He’s a handsome chap and has a great sense of humour, he really shouldn’t be lowering himself to Cam4. I approached him about why he does it, and he said that it’s because he has no confidence to meet people in the ‘real world’ and the Internet lets him talk to people without being judged. Is this how bad our world is? I don’t think it is, I think that’s what he tells himself, but it’s not the truth at all. By accepting defeat and subscribing to life of cyber-camming and getting a reputation for broadcasting yourself on Cam4, you are getting deeper and deeper into a hole of insecurity and fear of the real world. It won’t make you more confident, it will make it even harder for you to make new friends in the real world, as you will be so used to the Internet.

I believe that websites like Cam4 shouldn’t be allowed as they have a negative effect on the way people to interact with others in the real world. It promotes cheap, sleazy sexual acts to be performed in front of total strangers for no reward at all. It’s home to many, many desperate

Darlings, go outside into the real world.

Original Article

Please excuse the distasteful blog title, I’ll get on to what that means later but I don’t imagine it needs that much of an explanation. This last week has been great, thanks to it being the week just after pay day, so I live like a king then come tumbling back down to poverty in about another week or so. I should really try and master the art of managing my money, but it’s just so difficult. It’s got to the stage where I have to send money to mum each month to save for me because I am completely incapable of keeping it in an account of my own without spending it.

I’ve been back on the sunbeds in the week too, hopefully I won’t have long to go until I’m invisible in the dark. I’m currently doing ten minutes each time, which I know is quite naughty and I should probably cut down, but my desire to be brown outweighs the risk of the actual sunbed. I will calm it down soon though, I promise. I’m finding that some parts of my body tan easier than others which is very frustrating. My hands are white by upper arm and shoulder is a lovely tanned colour. Perhaps I just need to spend some more time on them…

In work on Friday afternoon we were discussing having a get together at the weekend, with the main idea being a trip to Blackpool. I’ve not been to Blackpool in a very long time, but last time I went I remember it being a chav ghetto with a pier and some sand. I don’t fancy risking making a sand castle and getting a needle in my hand, or walking down the beach and getting a condom wrapped between my toes. We agreed to go out in the evening instead, which I thought would be a good change as we’d be doing something (for the first time) that isn’t straight after work.

[caption id=”attachment_808” align=”alignleft” width=”224” caption=”Five points of cocktail. Hello, darling.”][/caption]

So, reluctantly I agreed to go what people may consider to be ‘straight clubs’ and spend a night being a single straight man. We started off in the Printworks and went to this place called Illusions. I was told it was a magic bar so I was expecting a nice handsome man coming over to the table asking me to pull things out of his pocket. Unfortunately that was not the case and the only magic that we encountered during our time there was our 2-4-1 cocktail vouchers. We also treated ourself a cocktails on tap too, as you can see from the picture.

After Illusions, we headed over to Revolution on Deansgate Locks, where our drinks were heavily discounted thanks to one of the groups boyfriend being the manager, how convenient! I found out that girls are even more competitive than the gays. There were girls everywhere in short dresses and high heels grabbing an inconveniently shaped handbag, dancing with their vodka and cokes through a straw. God bless those ladies.

So after going in and out of other places and dragging the team to Canal Street, we ended up in the Casino (that I think I had to register as a member for) where I had a bit of a snooze and some tap water. You know it’s been a heavy night when you start ordering water. I’m obviously getting old and can’t keep up with the youth of today.

Then it started. That feeling, in the back of my throat and the depths of my stomach. I could feel it coming, about to explode at any time. No, it wasn’t anything rude. It was the eruptions of my stomach. I made a pathetic run to the toilet, slamming the cubicle door behind me and standing over the toilet. And there it was, the same eye watering, nerve crippling feeling that I get every time I drink too much. I never, ever learn.

I won’t go into too much detail about what it looked like, because that’s just plain rude. After we’d finished at the casino, we headed straight to McDonalds that was conveniently just across the road. I never thought I’d be ordering a Bacon & Egg McMuffin at 6:30am unless I’m working, but I suppose there is a first time for everything. We were told that it’s ‘takeaway only’ and therefore we had to eat it outside in the freezing cold. I stood just in the door way but was ushered out by a security guard who called me a ‘boy’ - which I obviously questioned him about and told him he can’t call me a boy. I was probably just being a drunken twat.

The taxi home was cool, I just put my head down and went to sleep and told him to wake me up when we arrive back home. I’ve had a couple of hours sleep since getting in at 7am, but I’m absolutely exhausted and I have a killer headache. I don’t imagine that spending the afternoon in front of my computer has helped though.

Windsor. Over & Out.

Original Article