Reminiscing...

I was going to write this blog several days ago but procrastination is an unhealthy drug, which I had consumed more than the legal dose going into my Domestic Relations exam as it was thanks to the hostile world of competiative gaming. Now that the exam is out of my way, I find myself bored on a Saturday night twiddling my thumbs, and of course the only part-time solution to this problem is to blog. For some unbeknown reason, I've been going about my normal ways reminiscing my youth. When I say 'reminiscing', I do not mean cartoon shows I watched as a child or anything conventional like that, no; I mean the ways I went about life that never affected anyone, yet still treasure.

Kane - best £6.99 ever (at the time).

Everybody had their favourite toys when growing up; Power Rangers, Transformers, WWF (now WWE) figures, Spiderman, Action Man, etc. Although I indulged in adverse Power Rangers storylines from time to time - including the attack of Stone Cold Steve Austin in the bathtub, using the shower cord to restrain him until they could use their powers to summon another toy that just so happened to be lying around the bathroom to defeat him - it was the wrestling figures that stole the show for me. The ring, entrance ramp, commentary table, weapons, I had the lot. So much was my fondness for these man-dolls, my mum drove me every week to a shop called The Dungeon - a small Forbidden Planet on the Hilltown (Dundee). I had the more common wrestler so I was looking for wrestlers that were only available via American import, which takes me to the most excitement bit; waking up one average morning where your front door has a large package containing a barrage of polystyrene and my prize at the bottom of the box. If anyone has never ordered a package which contains an endless supply of polystyrene, do it. Think bubblewrap but there's a prize if you pop them all. Good old Faarooq and Bradshaw: the biggest rush of adrenaline of them all.

My next memory continues the apparent theme of rummaging for a prize but this time, replace the polystyrene with your favourite cereal. School mornings were made that much better when I realised that the Frosties or Coco Pops (I altered between the two) was in a new box - which meant a new toy to claim. I'm still hungry, but no longer for the food. Usually the toy was something that made a Happy Meal toy look like an adequate Christmas present but on the odd occasion, Kellogs would pull the rabbit out of the hat and reveal that they've inserted Crash Bandicoot toys into your breakfast. A fine way to start your day, I'm sure you'll agree.

Moving away from a theme which can only last so long (unlike the microwave, I still can't get my head around how I spent so long writing about a microwave that doesn't work), something most boys were brought up with: local football. Technically my local team was Dundee United whom I've supported for nearly 15 years now but sometimes I would venture up to the whimsical town of Forfar to be looked after. I've seen some of the best football I've ever seen at Station Park, particularly the 6-4 victory over the might of then Third Division Cowdenbeath. Such a good atmosphere too with around 600 spectators, a shed for a toilet, one shop which sold just bovril and crisps, and a bannister for you to lean on when watching the spectacle. I miss going to games that you could just enjoy before frustration kicks in and makes the experience less enjoyable, regardless of the result.

Forfar Athletic's Station Park - the 'Theatre of Dreams', Manchester United stole the gimmick.

I was going to write more, however this could consume my whole Saturday night if I mentioned everything about my childhood so I'll put a lid on it, if you will. This is basically what's waltzed its way into my thinking space in the last week - not to mention during my exam, needless to say the thoughts didn't contribute to anything significant. Life was simplistic back then. You could enjoy taking part in obscure activities without being judged for it, you're only a kid after all and you've got plenty of time to grow out of it. I'm nearly there. Nearly.

What I Can't Live Without #2

#2: Immaturity

As a part of the festive celebrations, I welcome you to 2011 with a second blog update in the space of a single day, madness! If you're an adoring fan of mine, you will recall not so long ago that I ranted - for perhaps longer than I should have - about the importance of a fully functioning microwave in one's life. I stated that I may follow up on the theme of the title and after much deliberation with myself, I have succeeded in finding something else I would not cope without.


The thought of turning 23 next year is very daunting for several reasons:

1. Friends will have full-time jobs (not so fun)
2. That's only 7 years until I turn 30
3. I need to start making long-term plans
4. I need to drastically mature...

Ok, so maybe the fourth point there might not happen for I am not ashamed to say that I have the mental age of about 14.  Those of you who know me, I like to frequently indulge in immaturity, even if the situation does not require such behaviour. For those of you who haven't yet had the honour of knowing me, I wish you good luck. Sometimes I look to immaturity to break the awkward silence, which I despise on every level. Other times i might use this handy persona to induce a more lively conversation.

I'll be honest in saying that if I didn't indulge in immaturity, I wouldn't be the person that you know me as today and if I wouldn't like to know what I'd be like without it. I understand that I haven't yet linked the title of this particular blog to all this gibberish I've typed so far; I can't live without immaturiry because my life would be a bit boring without it. I like some cartoon shows that have a target audience of primary school children and have no shame in admitting that - they're fun!

Annoying Orange - A perfect example of the sort of humour I indulge in

Of course I have a more serious side too but even then, that gets boring if I maintain it for so long. What I love more than anything else about immaturity is that people around me relax and express their immaturity if they know that nobody is judging them with every action they make. Even when it comes to speaking to girls for the first time, I don't come away with chat-up lines and flex my muscles to impress because it's not who I am. I like to be myself and if someone decides that I'm not their "type of guy", they can move on and I won't batter an eyelid.

So there you have it, I'm wrapping up that topic because if you know me already, none of what I've typed will come as any great surprise. All I've done here is write about part of who I am and attempted to waste about 130 seconds of your life by reading this. If you're still reading here, then I have achieved my original intention of this blog (I'm easily amused also, this being an example).

1st January 2011 - just another day.

You know when people say things like "oh man, you were so funny last night" that maybe more alcohol was consumed than you may think. That was my hogmanay anyway, where I greeted the new year with an emphatic drunken slur. Kudos to Stacey and Danielle for a rousing night and one that I will struggle to remember the whole of.

I've noticed a consistent disgust through the world of Facebook that 2010 was largely an unpopular year and people are predicting great things to come in 2011. What people need to understand is that for something to change, they need to get their finger out and do something about it. As some people may well know, the month of November was quite a cruel one for me - so much that I decided it was a good time to suffer from my first mental breakdown - though most of the 11 other months of last year I would be more than happy to emulate. 

A new year resolution is one way for people to change their fortunes, however I for one know that by come March, about 0.3% of the Scottish population will still have theirs intact. All I want is to have fun. Since university work became less demanding, I've relaxed, and coming into the new year, I wouldn't change a thing.

All I ask is for everyone to have a great 2011 and if it fails to live up to expectations for a few of you, don't dip your head down and believe that "it's going to be another crap year", because that's crap in itself. Do something about it. And like the title of the book from the TV show The Highlife, I believe the motto should be followed for 2011:

"Dinnae be feart - grab life by the nuts"