I'm 29

Well, since my last post, I have grown another number closer to 30. These last few years it makes more sense to me that it is a good thing having a birthday at the end of the year. On my last couple of birthdays I have looked at my life and the things I want to change, and I can mull them over and eventually commit to them as New Years resolutions. They usually turn out to be a bit unsuccessful. So this year I am going to use this here blog as a tool for keeping to my resolutions.

I am not going to attempt anything massive. Obviously the usual "lose some weight", "stop smoking", "get a better job", "save money" resolutions still apply, but I will almost certainly commit to none of those. Instead, I would like to learn to do things in 2013.

Yes! I want to use 2013, my last year before turning 30, to learn how to do things that I can't do and usually wouldn't want or need to do. Including, but not limited to...

Learn to Cook
Yes, I want to be able to cook, and cook good. I want to make Curries and Chillies and Pasta dishes all from scratch. This is the main one. I really enjoy food, I am enjoying food more the older (and fatter) I get. So I really want to enjoy the food I cook. I plan on sticking to this, even if I stick to none of the others.

Learn how to use my camera
In 2011 I bought myself a camera, and I love it, I used it loads and took some pictures that I am genuinely proud of. Since the end of this summer, I have hardly used my camera, and this is a bad thing. I think, that if I knew how to use my camera to it's full capability, and how to edit pictures to a greater level, I would use my camera a lot more, so this is what I plan to do. I want to take photographs, lots of photographs.

Learn to read
OK, that sounds a bit odd. I can read, but I don't read. In my 29 years I have read a handful of books, all of which I have enjoyed. I love a good story, I love films and comics, I just can't seem to finish books. I need to teach myself how to get in a "reading zone".

These are the main 3. Of course, there are a few others which I will attempt, but for no real reason other than this being my "learn stuff" year, such as:
Learn to play the guitar
Learn how to write creatively
Learn how to fix things
Learn how to make stuff
Learn how to dress better
Learn loads more random facts about animals
Learn loads more words and improve my vocabulary

Hopefully these things will all help me learn more about myself and what I ultimately want from life, and, if not, they will just make me better at doing stuff. Which is a good thing.

Lets see how it goes.

What have I been doing?

I haven't posted a proper blog in bloody ages. I have this strange personality trait: if I don't do something for a long time, I start to question why I even do it. Like going out. If I have a long spell of not going on a night out, I wonder why I even do it in the first place, I have a little strange argument in my head, and talk myself out of doing it, time and time again. Then, eventually I will go out, have an amazing time, and later have the same argument in my head asking why I would ever want to stay in of an evening. Are you with me? Is that normal?

Either way, I keep picking up my phone or my laptop with the full intention of writing a blog, then I think "why am I even writing a blog?" and I end up on Google, looking at pictures of Nicole Scherzinger's rear end.

So, why blog?

I started this because... Well, see my first post, it was just something to do. But now? Now I guess I just want to have something saved somewhere. I want the crap that is in my head to be etched, forever, onto a tiny piece of cyberspace.
The fact that people are actually reading this is very flattering, and I love you, whomever you are, for taking the time to read this shit! It's true purpose though, I have discovered, is for me. I hope I continue writing it for a long time, to see how my thoughts and opinions change over time. Maybe the person reading this is me, with a greyer beard, a balder head and sorer feet. If that's the case, Hello, Old Me, sorry I am not more entertaining. Are you using futuristic 4D virtual reality to read this?

I have thought about my life a lot recently. I am coming towards the end of my prime, next year I turn 30, my chances of becoming a rock star have all gone, and I haven't really achieved anything.

That's a very intense thing to say, "I haven't achieved anything". I have a house, a job, and I come home to a smoking hot girl who's company I enjoy (old me, you best still be with Jen), I have made the most amazing friends and have the most amazing memories with them, with plenty more to come.
10 years ago, however, I don't think this is how I pictured myself. The only similarity is that I didn't want kids then, and I don't want kids now. Maybe I thought I would have a better job, and more money, and a grown up passtime, like guns... Or golf. I think I thought I would have responsibilities. There it is, the key word, responsibility.

I have done my best to avoid responsibility for my whole life. I always seem to link power and responsibility with stress and worries. Perhaps 28 years of Spider-Man and Batman have put that idea into my head. Anybody who knows me, though, knows that I lead a pretty stress-free, laid back life, and I like it like that (I still find plenty of things to moan about).

So, when will I start being responsible for things? When will I achieve something? I didn't even learn to drive until I was 26. I learned to drive, I crashed my Mum's car, I bought a new one, it cost loads of money, I got caught speeding, twice, my insurance went up, I got stressed, I was skint, I sold my car.... Shazam! Stress gone. See my point? So the question is, do I want responsibility? The answer right now is No. I am happy!
I will one day, I know I will, I'll get bored, when that day comes, I will get a dog!

I haven't really given Old Me an insight into how the world was when this was written, have I? I have just wrote about what a lazy fuck I am.

Well, Old Me and whomever else is still reading, I am writing this on a smartphone, and it is taking much longer than I had hoped, because I have a song I heard on the radio stuck in my head. The song is by Pitbull, who is crap, and the lyrics go
"grab somebody sexy tell them "hey, give me everything tonight, I want all of you tonight, because we may not get tomorrow"."
.... Imagine if I actually did go up to a sexy girl, GRAB HER and say
"Hi, I'm Foxon, I want you, all of you, and it has to be tonight... We might be dead tomorrow",
I would get a slap! Maybe even a stiff knee to the balls. Who knows, maybe I would be dead the next day, because of the bouncers in the club beating me to death for sexually harassing somebody sexy. Stupid song!!

Ok, this is the end. I will try to not leave it as long next time. Best go wash the dishes, and not go on Google... I hate having responsibilities, did I mention that?

My dream about Andrea McLean

Just this second woke up, I am writing this because I will forget.

In my dream, me and Jen went on a boating holiday with Andrea McLean of off Loose Women. We all watched a film called Nazi psychos, which involved Pritchard, off of Dirty Sanchez, trying to piss off a pair of Nazi psychos but escaping before they attacked him. Andrea explained to me that she keeps a key in her belly button and we would need it to put the tv away, but when you remove it, she falls asleep. She trusted me and I removed it, she fell asleep, and then, former England and Liverpool goalkeeper, David James said it would be hilarious to dye her hair ginger. We did. When she woke up she explained that the joke was on us and pulled off the ginger hair, to reveal her brown hair. She said people do it all the time, and the only person who ever got away with it was Derren Brown.

What the Dickens is wrong with me?

Keep Calm and Kermit on

In 1939 a propaganda poster was introduced to the civilian workers of war stricken Great Britain. Intended to keep moral high and keep the hands working during times of anguish, or even impending Nazi attacks, the poster featured a solid red background with a crown and the words "Keep Calm and Carry On". Fantastic!

The poster was rediscovered in 2000, and got a classy re-issue, a few companies took the poster on, and it could be found in boutiques and high-brow art and culture outlets. It was a nostalgic reminder of the 'stiff upper lip' attitude of bygone Britain, and even though I am not even slightly patriotic, it all created a romantic mental picture of a proud nation pulling together and an Englishman standing tall and proud, ready to defeat evil. An image that should be cherished forever, and never forgotten. Patriotic or not. Fantastic.

Yesterday I saw a woman, with greasy blonde hair, grey roots, thick drawn on eyebrows about 2 inches above her eyes, ripped sweat pants and flip-flops. She was pushing a pram, in which sat a boy who looked old enough to be sitting his GCSEs, let alone walking (slight exaggeration), and attached to the pram was a dirty, tatty pink tote bag, with cheap foil print, featuring a badly drawn ladies shoe and the words "Keep Glam and Go Shopping".

Romantic image ruined. Well done Britain! Fantastic...

Seeing that aged witch, clinging on to her youth, dressed up silly and wearing far too much make-up reminded me: It's October, Halloween soon!!!! Fantastic!!!!

Jen and I have decided to throw a Halloween party. I hope it's a success. In the past I have dressed up as Zombies, Ninja, Mexicans, Insane Clowns, even a certain female Tomb Raider. This year, me and Jen decided we want our costumes to match, and dress as a duo. Immediately I decided on Kermit and Miss Piggy, with myself being the glamorous, blonde pig. Jen wasn't as keen as me. So, we have decided on a different dastardly and mischievous duo, and we have started putting together our costumes, watch this space.
My character is one that has been done to death recently, so I need to make sure I perfect it and go to town with it. Which is an excuse to dress up and wear make-up before Halloween.

...like I needed an excuse.

Dirty Old Men

Yesterday, Kevin and I delved into the strange world of the bizarre, we went to an Alternative and Burlesque fair at Sound Control in Manchester. We went with the intent of taking many pictures of many weird, wonderful and creative people who have little or no interest in what the mainstream world thinks of them. Despite the sign upon entry forbidding it, there were many people carrying SLR cameras and snapping pictures of the lovely performers and latex-clad models, so we finally got our cameras out and joined them.

Later, in the pub, we talked about the photographers, and Kev came to the realisation that almost all of the photographers looked like that which could be described as "dirty old men". I really hope that is not how we came across, because, even though I do like female curvy parts dressed in shiny fabrics, I have a genuine interest in the alternative lifestyle and really enjoy being around people who live it. Maybe next time I will wear a bit of eye-liner and tighter trousers in an attempt to fit in more.

Either way, here are a couple of photographs I took during the Eustratia fashion show, which was dark, atmospheric and entertaining, and the models were beautiful. The bright stage lighting and rules against the use of flashes meant almost all of my pictures came out very noisy, but, with thanks to Kev giving me a few shooting tips, I got a few photographs I like.

...and, of course, here is a link to the designer  http://www.eustratia.co.uk/

I think I think too much

Isn't it awkward when you walk out of a shop, or any kind of building, and somebody is walking in the direction you want to go, at the same speed, but you only clock them when it's too late and you are alongside them, total strangers walking together like a married couple? Common sense would tell you to slow down, but you don't, you speed up, what right has this person to walk ahead of you? The other person also picks up his pace too and, before long, you are stuck in a strange, married couple, power walking race.

I think too much.
Now, when I say "I think too much", I don't mean I dwell on such awkward situations, or lose sleep thinking about insults that have been thrown my way or how I could have handled myself better in an argument. I don't really care about people's opinions of me, I handle awkwardness pretty well, and, Jen will back me up, I have absolutely no trouble sleeping. I have also never said a sentence like "what do you think she meant when she said it's not me, it's her?" or "do you think he hates me?".

No, when I say "I think too much" I mean that, as I am getting older, simple things are starting to confuse me more, and it's driving me mad!

Let me explain (or try to). Media is becoming too clever. Remember back in the day, nobody knew why the blue hedgehog wanted to run dead fast and collect rings, but it didn't matter, and we enjoyed Sonic's mad adventures regardless. Today, a single video game can have about 60 different storylines, they encourage you to take detours, use your initiative and look for secrets.
Films are the same, remember when you first saw The Matrix, or Donnie Darko, and you left the film with thousands of questions, massive discussions were had about the plots, subplots and plot-holes. More recently, films like Inception and Cabin in the Woods force you to read between the lines just to figure out what in the blue hell is going on.

This really is brilliant, as media has become more advanced, it is making its audience think more, therefore we're becoming cleverer, and as people get smarter, our entertainment will continue to get better. Fantastic, right?

No, it is becoming a problem for me. I like to think I have always been quite clever, even when I was mindlessly guiding the blue hedgehog towards his goal.
Now, when 28 year old me is playing a game, I search the entire place where I am, top to bottom, front to back, left to right, throughly, before moving on, just in case I miss something, or do something wrong.

Films and books are the same, I find myself filling in plot-holes and trying to predict twists before the story has even begun, and this is not as rewarding as it sounds.

I recently watched a great film called Hobo With A Shotgun... The title says exactly what it is, it's about a homeless man who goes to a city that is completely corrupt, befriends a hooker, buys a shot-gun and inserts his own brand of justice to the city, blasting the shit out of everything. A really simple idea, not much thought required and a whole load of fun. I, however, found myself trying to find hidden meanings, analysing everything that was said and reading between the lines. This film didn't require that, everything was to be taken at face value and I just couldn't, so I found the film rather confusing.

It's now happening with everything, I can read a lovely little article on discovery news or howstuffworks.com, and I end up reading each line 4 or 5 times. It becomes a tangle of over analysis in my head and I just get confused. It's even beginning to happen with text messages and blogs.

Is this normal? I think I need to just keep things simple inside my brain, see things for their face value, stop reading between the lines and just enjoy that which is meant to be enjoyed as the artist intended.

...either that or play Sonic The Hedgehog more.

Stone Fucking Sour

People often ask me: Christopher James Foxon, Who is your favourite band/artist in the whole amazing world of musical entertainment?

Nobody has asked me that since primary school. Onwards and upwards, anyways.

Anyone who knows me will know that my favourite band changes about 3 times a minute, as does my favourite genre of music. My hard drive is crammed with everything from Carribean Dub to Japanese Electronic pop, 1940s crooners to noughtie dizzy rascals and everything in between, except usher and FUCKING wolfmother.

So how can I say who my favourite is? This could be a pretty tedious blog.

Well, the first band I truely loved was Oasis. But if you were concious in 1995 and didn't love oasis, you are weird and I don't want to talk to you.

Oasis, for me, were amazing, up until about 98, when I heard guitars doing things that guitars shouldn't do. Korn were a band that changed my life. When I heard Korn I wanted to grow my hair long, get tattoos and scream about how shit life is. Korn introduced me to heavy metal, technically Korn should be classed as as my favourite band. Yet, how can I class Korn as my favourite band when Deftones do the same thing as Korn only much much much much better. It's like using a knife to screw a screw into a plank of wood... It works, but a screwdriver is much better.

After seeing them live for the first time, Mudvayne became a massive thing to me, I adored them for years, to the point where I even got some lyrics tattooed on me. LD50 may very well be my most listened to album, even today.

Away from metal, Jurrassic 5, Holy Fuck, Daft Punk, TV on the Radio, The Chemical Brothers, Little Boots, Lady Gaga, Gorillaz, Bjork, The Gaslight Anthem, Faithless, and, for a brief year in the early 2000's, The Insane Clown Posse, have all become obsessions for me over the years. Away from metal, though, my favourite band have to be Justice.

Could justice be my favourite band? They are relatively new, 2 studio albums and a (stunning) live album, not much to base something so big on. Plus, they're French.

Either way, rock will always be where my heart lies, so it's only natural that if I am to have a favourite band, it has to be a rock band. It's my blog so I make the rules.

Now, the legacy of Metallica is beyond amazing, nobody can argue what an absolute force they are in rock music. So much so that a Metallica tattoo was inevitable. The problem, though, in the 90s, Metallica made 2 terrible albums in Load and ReLoad.

Step up SLIPKNOT! A legacy that will live on just like Metallica's, a 100% success rate with albums, an energetic and original live show, and a sound so brutal that it makes you want to chew concrete yet melodic and accessible enough to play it to your grandmother. Slipknot, fronted by the greatest frontman in history, Corey Taylor, deserve to be my favourite band.

Corey Taylor, however, has another band and I prefer them. Stone Sour! Now, I have mentioned many great artists and found something wrong with them all, or bands that are better, or reasons not to like them so much... I can't think of anything wrong with Stone Sour. I love every track they have made. I love their lyrics, their catchy guitar riffs and epic solos and Corey's voice is perfect for the band. I love Stone Sour. They are my favourite band. This perfectly sets up my blogs over the next few months before their new album comes out and I see them live in December.

Whatever, though. Why do I need to have a favourite band? After all, it only depends on what mood I am in, doesn't it?

Something to blog about, I guess.

5 Guilty Pleasures

I dislike the term "guilty pleasure", I have never felt at all guilty about the things I like, but it is a socially accepted phrase used to describe things that perhaps a person like me shouldn't like, but does like. Perhaps it's a female thing, the guilty pleasure? Men tend to celebrate the things they shouldn't like or do, but do like or do. I never tire of a conversation in a pub about which films have made me and my mates cry.


I haven't posed a blog in a while, this isn't because I can't think of anything to blog about. Quite the opposite. I start writing a blog, and then I think of something better to write about, so I start writing about that, then I digress onto a tangent of something completely different. This is pretty much how I am in conversation, but when sat alone, writing things down, they turn into super-rants... hate filled attacks on the things I don't like. For instance, last week, a mild natter about parent's discipline somehow turned into a full forced written assault on any person who owns a tracksuit, in about 6 paragraphs. One day I will get this blogging thing down to a tee.


Down to a tee, I like that phrase. Which means precisely or perfectly. It is actually "down to a T", as it is a reference to the letter T. I am not sure what the T stands for, I think I read somewhere once that it stands for "tittle", which would make sense. However, I guess if you are going to use "tittle" (the dot on top of the lower-case i and j) you may as well use T, "cross the Ts and dot the Is". I may be wrong, I'm not Googling it.


See what I mean about digressing?

Guilty pleasures, yes. Here are 5 that spring to mind. There are many many more, one would suspect.


The Fast and The Furious
When I see the people who come into the shop I work in and either buy or sell "The Fast and The Furious" films, They could not be more unlike me (my tracksuit attack would have clarified that). They like ridiculously souped up hatchbacks, tribal tattoos, unrealistic car chases and pointless storylines. So do I. Yes they are dumb, but my God they are fun! Every line is a cliché, there is more product placement than an X-Factor advert break, washed down ghetto hip-hop music crammed in to every possible gap, uncredited female ass shots and pointless explosions. I love it!

Alkaline Trio

I don't really like punk rock, I love all that it stands for, and what it has done for the alternative music scene, and I love the punk community, but it's just not my bag. I especially avoid pop-punk! But between all the riff-heavy metal drones of Corrosion Of Conformity, Down and Stone Sour, and the addictive, synthetic dance beats of Orbital, Caribou and Unkle on my generic multi-media player, lie Alkaline Trio. I shouldn't like them, I don't usually like bands like them, I can't imagine I have much in common with their average fan, but I think they are brilliant. I have seen them live, too, and this confirmed the fact that they are one of my favourite bands out there.

Reading through my Girlfriend's trashy gossip magazines

If it is there, I will take it upstairs to the loo and read the shit out it. Junk mail, leaflets, shopping reciepts, instructions for flat packed furniture I put up 6 months ago, I just need something to read when I am at my most vulnerable time. When nature calls I will always pick up the nearest thing to me to take with me to read, and I must admit, when it is one of Jen's rubbish celebrity gossip magazines, I get a little bit excited. I usually have no interest in who was sick on Cheryl Cole's shoes at the annual awards for talentless zombies, but I will read that magazine from front to back. (Which is why I spend so long in there Jen, if you think about it, it's your fault.)

Ice Cream
Usually only reserved for kid's parties and 20 something girls who have just been dumped, Ice Cream is something I don't think I could live without. If you look back through my blog, you will see my dislike for warm things like coffee, which obviously results in a love of cold things, like ice cream! I do really love ice cream, all of it, I have never had a flavour I dislike. I was always the first in the queue when the Ice Cream Van came to our street when I was little, and the waiter in Frankie & Benny's in Middlebrook told me I was the first person to order a Coke Float this summer (it was April).

Little Boots
What's not to like?

So there you have it, 5 of my "guilty pleasures". Although we all know that they are not actually guilty pleasures, just things I like. I will try to avoid sharing details of my 5 actual guilty pleasures, Bondage, razor sharp stilettos, gas masks, rubber catsuits and... well... Little Boots.

Jennifer

3 years ago today, I approached Jennifer Waring in a loud nightclub and said the words "We have been seeing each other for a couple of months now, how about we change our facebook statuses to 'in a relationship'?". They say romance is dead!

Today is the 3 year anniversary of our relationship, and it seems that over the last few weeks, our relationship has grown stronger than ever.

Let's rewind: 3 and a half years ago my life was completely different. I lived for Friday nights, I spent every week wishing the hours away until the weekend where I could meet up with my mates, go to the same pubs, drink the same drinks, achieve the same level of drunkenness, dance to the same songs, smoke a pack of Marlboro Reds, go home at 7am and vomit in the same toilet. It was amazing, really amazing, I miss it so much, the last thing I wanted in 2009 was a girlfriend.

One night, in the trashiest nightclub in Wigan, which I went into alone at around 4am after all my friends had left, I found myself locking tongues with a fake, blonde, insane, drunken Chav girl, who proceeded to insult me, drink the remainder of her drink, then mine and walk away, out of my life forever. I decided to leave the club to go after her, it was light outside, I saw a couple of people I know sat outside the club and I joined them for a bit, asking them about the blonde. One of the girls there I didn't know, a little, cute, brunette in a nice dress. I smiled at her, she smiled back. I talked a load of drunken rubbish, asked them if they had any cigarettes and left. The following morning, lying in bed, nursing the usual, chronic Saturday hangover, I was thinking about the girl. Not the blonde with attitude, the girl sitting on the floor who smiled at me.

The following week, the same night was planned, only this time, the people I saw sitting outside the club last week came over to chat and no doubt remark on what a drunken mess I was. I was introduced to the girl who smiled at me. She was really happy, fun and pretty. I liked her. As she and her friends left, I alerted my best mate, Kris, to her bum, she had a really great bum, he agreed. I saw her a few times that night, I got lots of smiles, her smile was so nice, but her bum... Amazing. Kris told me he thought I had a chance. I didn't think so.

The third time I saw her, the following Friday night, I spoke to her, a lot. I bored her with how this relatively new act Lady Gaga is going to take over the planet, my tattoo plans and (for about 4 hours) Daft Punk's spectacular art-film "Electroma". That night, we kissed.

For weeks, We kept seeing each other around, sometimes it was awkward, sometimes it was nice, every time we kissed. I started thinking about her, a lot, all the time. I thought about her at work, and turned to Kevin, a man who was fast becoming one of my best mates and a guy who's opinion I can always trust. I told him I had met a girl and I told him I really, really didn't want a girlfriend.

I pestered Kev with my dilemma for months, what do I do? I like her, I like being single. Frustrated, he told me that if I was going on about her so much, I like her more than I like being single. Me and the girl kept getting closer and closer. He was right.

In August, we had been meeting up on our own, no mates about, we had been starting the nights out together and meeting our friends later, she had even stayed over a few times. On Friday the 14th of August, we spent the night together in the club. Her best friend's then boyfriend grabbed me and said "just ask her out, already". I did. She said yes.

We were together, and we spent so much time together. My mates liked her, my parents and brother liked her and I was with the girl with the amazing bottom. I enjoyed every moment I was with her. I started leaving night clubs at reasonable times so I could take her home, I drank less because I liked our chats and I really didn't want to vomit in front of her, and I started doing things with my weeknights with her, instead of wishing them away. I didn't want a girlfriend, but I really needed one.

...so here we are, 3 years together. I have grown so much. We have been through so much together, but I wont get into that, this blog is already long enough. The girl I liked is now the girl I love. Her smile is still amazing, and I swear, her bum is even better.

She still hasn't seen Electroma.

I don't do...

It must be equally as, if not more effective to define somebody not by what they do, but rather by what they don't do that everybody else does. For instance, I can get a better grasp of a person's personality upon learning that they don't eat foods beginning with a vowel, than I would upon learning that they do collect bees. Am I making sense? Well, it's my blog, so who cares? Or rather who doesn't care?

It would be interesting to learn that somebody kite boards, but much more conversation provoking to learn that somebody doesn't watch TV.

This got me wondering "what don't I do that most people do do?". My only answer is "I don't do hot drinks". I don't drink tea, I prefer iced coffee, I don't even drink coco before bed, and I also find the idea of warm milk slightly weird. Flaming Sambuca? I'll pass.

This isn't that groundbreaking to learn, though, because I don't really like hot anything. Being ginger and 18 stone, I don't really cope well with hot weather. I much prefer a cold shower in the morning to a hot bath in the evening. I tend to wear shorts for as much of the year I can. In the depths of winter I have the windows open and a fan blowing on me in bed, disregarding the duvet as much as possible.

Lets disregard curries and reggae reggae sauce. Lets just say they are spicy, not hot.

So that's it. I don't drink warm drinks. What does this mean? Either I am incredibly boring, or I shouldn't be left alone with my thoughts for too long. Probably both.

I do, however, talk a load of rubbish.

I also came up with a word today. Have you ever needed a wee and when you arrived at the toilet done a poo that you didn't even know you needed? That's an "impromptpoo". I am quite proud of that! I will avoid looking at the urban dictionary, because somebody has probably already coined it.

I also can't believe that at the time of writing this, I have had 117 page views, half of that and I would have been very flattered. So thank you all for reading this drivel.

Dolls

Yesterday, in work I got a couple of porcelain dolls, sufficiently scary, don't you think? They are going to be fun to photograph. Here are a couple of quick pictures I took today in my back yard.

But there is nothing to be positive about, Chris.

I am not sure why I have decided to start a blog. As the title suggests, it's little more than something to do between meals, a place to come to rant and complain with nobody around to retort and argue against me.

I had the idea of blogging in work earlier. I moan an awful lot in work, so I vowed that my first post would be positive. I suggested this to Hannah, a work companion [in joke] and my main partner in the act of banter, she said "but there is nothing to be positive about, Chris". We laughed.

There is plenty to be positive about, though. Even though I have to get up every morning and go to work, what was once a gigantic, unpredictable monster of a social life has died down to less than a shadow of it's former, glorious self, and all the money on Earth seems to be as elusive as a mixed race man at a BNP meeting, I like to think I can always look on the proverbial bright side.

My brother's girlfriend, last week, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Ellie, my niece. Not only that, my girlfriend and I moved into a new place which will save us lots of money, I am feeling very patriotic as Team GB rack up the gold medals at the London Olympics, the football season is just around the corner, and, to top it all off, In The Mood by Rush just came on the radio. I challenge anyone to be anything but positive when Rush come on the radio. So shut up, Hannah!

Either way, this post is nothing more than an introduction. For those of you who don't know me (heaven knows why you are reading this), my name is Chris Foxon, I am a dreadlocked giant who looks like a Viking, and speaks like James Blunt. Is James Blunt still relevant? Should I be talking about Dappy and One Direction? I shall save my thoughts on modern "music" for a future post. I work in Leigh, I Live in Bolton. I am a rather outspoken atheist, I am very liberal and, it seems, I use a lot of commas when writing sentences. I love eating, talking and laughing, in that order. I have an amazing bunch of friends, with whom I don't spend enough time. I have a red car, a roboraptor, a nice camera, a strange imagination, a flawless set of parents, an awesome brother, and a beautiful girlfriend, none of whom will probably read this blog, but will almost certainly feature.

I plan on posting pictures I have taken or drawn, things I have witnessed, things I have noticed, ideas I have, things I love, things I hate and details of food I have eaten. If that isn't enough reason to start blogging, I don't know what is. I hope people enjoy my ramblings, but above all, I hope I enjoy it.
Lets hope I keep it up.
Fresh!