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!