This isn't the greatest blog post in the world, this is just a tribute....

Anyway, pointless musical references aside, it's been a few days since I last posted because I've taken some time to think about things. That probably sounds ominously serious but in this instance I don't think it is.

I don't often get very heavy on this blog so please excuse my small excursion to 'Hmmmmmm-land' just this once. What I've been thinking about a lot recently is achievement. Specifically, what I've been thinking/dwelling a lot on is:

What have I actually achieved in my life?

I'm rapidly approaching mid-30's and what I consider to be my most impressive achievements to date are thus:

- I own my flat and have done for ten years.
- I've brought up a cat that loves me so much she has 17 other homes and wants to move continents with one of them.
- Convincing my elder sister to pay 10% a day interest on money I lent her out of my allowance when I was 12 and enforcing repayment through the 'removal in lieu of payment' of several precious items (I was a hard-nosed businessman even then! :) )
- Winning the Warwickshire Mini-Enterprise award in 1991 (see above)
- Seeing a girl called Chloe's frankly epic breasts (still one of my finest moments)
- Turning the detective agency round from being technically insolvent to profit making in a year
- Getting a patent granted
- Never being sacked, despite being one of the laziest humans alive
- Studied Chemistry for a year in Germany, having lectures and exams in German with nothing more than a GCSE in the language, and then getting the highest mark for any foreign student
- Bringing up a cat that gets so upset if I leave the room that he has to follow me and demand to be hugged
- Running the festival catering last year from a standing start with no experience and still producing 10,000 meals in two weeks (losses notwithstanding)
- Earning everything I own

I look at the above with a curious mixture of pride and disappointment. I mean, is that all I've done in sixteen years of adult life? I'm now at the age where a game of 5-a-side induces such hideous back pains that two days later I still can't sit in comfort, an age where the thought of clubbing makes me shiver (mainly because I know I'll dance like my Dad - who appears to have invented a 70s/30s fusion style of his own (imagine John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever but doing 'Jazz Hands' at the same time). At my sister's wedding even the Germans thought it was funny. The Germans. Jesus wept.), an age when just about everyone I know of the same vintage is either in a serious relationship or married with kids, an age, in fact, when I should've grown up by now.

Only I don't want to. Being childish is fun. :)

I can't really feel that disappointed because I never wanted to be anything in particular (beyond a vague desire to be Bond-esque villain, trying to take over the world for my own ends. Except even then it was to force the world to do what it should be doing but won't, such as [controversial moment] stop having fucking kids when the planet is over-populated as it is, stop killing other people in the name of a theoretical entity because we know you're only doing it for power, and - most importantly - re-introducing respect into football by attaching electrodes to every player's scrotum and giving the ref the button that activates them*. I would be awesome as a super-villain.) To have achieved what I have while effectively drifting through life isn't that bad I suppose. I'll give myself a B- (with 'See me' written in the corner in red pen).

So, looking to the future, am I going to suddenly become serious, settle down, get into a relationship and work all hours to carve out a career?

Am I bollocks.

I'm going to do something, however, that will leave my mark on the world for generations to come.

Er, that sounds like a threat. It was meant more as a promise! Watch this space.



But while we're waiting for that (and don't hold your breath or anything, not unless you have lungs the size of Nebraska) I did achieve something today. This week's Diet Coke model is the SS Aspartame


I rock! :)

Oh, and this time next week we'll have a funky new design (of sorts) for this blog to 'oooh' and 'aaah' over, thanks to my friend Ste. No pressure mate ;-P


*Oh come on, you know that's a genius idea. The queue for people to become refs would be round the block. Next time you see Wayne Rooney dislocate his jaw screaming 'Just f*ck off, you f*cking c*nt, f*ck off, f*ck off!' at the ref for having the temerity to award a throw-in against Man Utd, just imagine a big red button. Press it. Go on, press the button. BZZZZZZTTTT!!!! Ah, what a pleasant thought.....