GroundBlog Day

31st December 2016 – 23:32

Happy New Year everyone! Well, nearly.

I’m starting this week’s entry, which is all about New Year’s Resolutions, shortly before the utter shitastrophe that was 2016 comes to an end. As I sit here, on my own (Isaac spent an hour-and-a-half in his own bed, before waking and demanding that my wife accompany him to ours instead – affording him plenty of time to adopt his now signature ‘kicking Daddy in the squishy bits’ pose, ready for my arrival), I have a little time to reflect on this year, before the next one starts.

To honour the occasion, I have opened our drinks cabinet in search of something suitably celebratory, since the large bottle of Budweiser in the fridge seemed a tad crass, and I’ll never get through enough of a bottle of wine, to justify opening one at this late hour.

To my delight, hidden among the whisky (too strong), champagne (too extravagant, especially when drinking alone in your pants), and Baileys (too, well, Baileys), I discovered a half open bottle of special reserve port. Perfect.

This joy was short-lived, however, as it turns out my knowledge of port is only slightly greater than my knowledge of, say, quantum-physics, or women. See, I was under the impression that port doesn’t tend to go off once opened, but I now realise that this only applies to certain types of port. What I apparently have here, is very much of the ‘goes off, then tastes like feet’ variety.

Why don’t they put that on the label? Surely a quick ‘don’t leave this until New Year’s Eve 2016’ wouldn’t hurt? In fact, I would go so far as to suggest this would probably improve sales, as middle-class people would quaff it quicker, if they knew it would perish once opened.

Then again, middle-class people probably already know that this particular port goes off, whereas plebs like me, who get given a bottle as a gift – and then gently work their way through it over the next decade – aren’t their target audience.

I was about to give up and open the Budweiser, when I spotted a long forgotten gift-set hiding at the back of the cabinet, containing three miniatures of port instead. Not only were they unopened, but a hasty Google search revealed they are all in the ‘this shit’ll last for years’ category. I am pleased to report that, having taken my first hesitant sip, they are indeed much more palatable – and distinctly less feety.

Crap, it’s 11.58pm. Have I really been writing about port for twenty-five minutes? I best get Big Ben on, ready for the fireworks. Bear with me…..


1st January 2017 – 00:15

Ok, it’s now 12:15am – so, more officially this time, Happy New Year!

The London fireworks are always very impressive, but I can’t help thinking the exorbitant amount of money spent on them, could be put to better use – perhaps by funding the NHS for another 3-5 years, for example?

Robbie Williams is on now. Insufferable git. If he got paid for every word he actually sang, rather than getting the crowd to sing for him (while he struts up and down the stage, like a piss-poor Mick Jagger tribute), he’d have less money than me.

Where the hell was I? Oh, yes, New Year’s Resolutions. I think, considering I’ve strayed so far off topic, and even though I can assure you I am not drunk in the slightest, I might resume this entry when I’m a little more coherent.


2nd January 2017

I genuinely wasn’t drunk when I typed those opening paragraphs – although I did discover a rather unfortunate ‘port sediment’ in my mouth, when I brushed my teeth before bed. For a few, harrowing seconds, as thick, dark-red gloop appeared on my toothbrush, I did fear that it was the end, but it turned out to merely be the aftermath of my unfortunate choice of drink earlier that evening.

Anyway, back on track. I’ve been giving some thought to New Year’s Resolutions, and whether I should break my personal tradition of not setting any, but so far I’m undecided. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment of trying to better oneself, by altering one or two aspects of your lifestyle, but the only thing I can be certain of, is that whatever target I set, it will be ditched by mid-March at the latest.

To my shame, I am not very resolute when it comes to resolutions, and that rather defeats the object. I have very little will-power or commitment when it comes to anything other than devouring chocolate Hobnobs. If there was a New Year’s Resolution which only required adherence until Easter, I could probably manage that, but sticking with something for a whole year is, to be frank, beyond me.

So, if I am unable (or, at least, unwilling) to alter the time over which I must adopt my new regime, perhaps I can select a New Year’s Resolution which doesn’t take much effort on my part to complete? It must still be something that improves my life, or those around me, so it can’t be anything as basic as ‘I will always wear matching socks’ (as I will anyway), or something as pointless as ‘I won’t eat tuna for the whole year’ (I fucking hate tuna), but so far I’ve not been able to think of anything.

For inspiration, I’ve decided to check out the ten most popular resolutions for 2017 (according to

1. Lose Weight

No surprises here, as losing weight/getting healthy was always going to be the favoured choice among Brits. We’re obsessed with gorging ourselves throughout December, then immediately switching to nothing but water and celery in January.

It’s bullshit, it’ll never work, and I’ll never stick to it for a whole twelve months. Even if I did, the vicious cycle of life would ensure that I put all the weight back on next December, so I’d be in the same predicament this time next year.

I may try to shed a few pounds from the gut region, but losing weight permanently just isn’t for me. I’d rather be happy and increasingly rotund, even if that means I can see less and less of my penis when I look down in the shower.

2. Getting Organised

Tough one this. I’m quite an organised person anyway, so unless it means de-cluttering at home, I’m already there. And, if it does mean de-cluttering at home, my wife is far better than I am at sorting through junk, so I might as well set my resolution to ‘go to the tip when she tells me to’.

3. Spend Less, Save More

Sounds great in principle, but I’ve never been an extravagant spender anyway, and have always been quite good at saving. That said, we’ve already decided not to holiday abroad this year (due to a combination of now having to pay for Isaac on flights, and the fact that last time we went abroad, the boys behaved like rabid chimps), so I’ll tick this one off my list.

4. Enjoy Life to the Fullest

And how, might I ask, am I meant to do that, if I’m supposedly spending less? I can hardly travel the world (unless I do it solely by hitchhiking, but I think we can all agree I would be trucker-fodder within a week). Nope, I’ll stick with enjoying my life in moderation, ta very much. At least until the kids both leave home.

5. Staying Fit and Healthy

I can’t stay fit, if I’m not fit to begin with. This should be ‘get fit, then stay that way’. I am, however, going to try running again.

I don’t mean that in the sense of ‘I tried it once, and was shit at it’, because running is relatively easy to comprehend (‘I honestly don’t know what happened. I tried to run, but after jumping up and down twice, and then spinning on the spot for three mintes, I skipped straight into a ditch’), more that I used to run, but had to give up due to injury. Essentially, I now have the lower back and knees of an osteoporotic pensioner.

6. Learn Something Exciting

Now, does this mean learning a new skill, such as a musical instrument or foreign language, or just finding out something exciting? If the latter, I’m not sure I have any control over that.

Perhaps one of my readers can e-mail me something exciting that I don’t know about? I suspect it’s the former though, in which case I don’t have the time, the patience, the inclination, or the money (I’m spending less, remember?).

7. Quit Smoking

Easy. Never have smoked, never will.

Having said that, the resolution does specify that I must quit smoking, so ideally I need to start smoking, then quit later on.

Maybe this can be my ‘learn something exciting’? I could learn to smoke one month, then quit the next. Two birds, one stone, and all that.

8. Help Others in Their Dreams

What utter bollocks. Aside from my inherent dislike of most other people, I have no control over their dreams whatsoever. I’m not the fucking BFG. If some poor sod is dreaming about being chased by a psychopath, what I am supposed to do?

I guess I could help someone overcome a bad dream, but that would entail breaking into various bedrooms, and hoping I discover someone thrashing around in a cold sweat, mid-nightmare. The odds are against me, and even assuming I did find someone unconsciously suffering, I’m not sure them waking to find me looming over their bed will help. In fact, I would go so far as to say it might make matters worse.

Oh, hang on, I see what they mean now. Help others to achieve their dreams. Nope. If I’m not achieving mine, I’m certainly not assisting others. Unless they’re a lingerie model, and their dream is to sleep with a tall solicitor.

9. Fall in Love

Not sure what my wife would have to say about this one. Then again, she’s probably still angry from the end of the last one. Pass.

10. Spend More Time with Family

I spend most of my spare time with my family anyway, so unless I quit my job and follow them around all day, I’m not sure I can do much more to achieve this. Besides, I’m pretty certain most of them don’t like me.


That settles it then. I’ll have to set my alarm for 5:00am every morning, then hang around waiting for my wife or one of the boys to have a nightmare, so that I can wake and console them. I’ll then go for an early morning run, followed by breakfast of a few cigarettes (I’m on a diet).

I won’t need to go to work, as I’ll quit my job in order to spend more time with my family, and because I’m no longer earning, I’ll also need to spend less. What little money I do have, will be going on my guitar and Spanish lessons, but I’ll only do these once a week, so I’m not away from the family for long.

Hopefully, either my guitar or Spanish teacher will be attractive, so I can fall in love.

Bring it on, 2017.


‘Twas The Blog Before Christmas (2016)

’Twas the blog before Christmas, another year done

Forty-six brand new entries – it’s been a good run

This poem’s a collection of the year’s greatest hits

(although it started off poorly when I contracted the shits)



I wrote about Peppa, how she drives me insane

And my flight down to Norwich on the worst fucking plane

The month ended with Bowie, who had just passed away

I analysed Labyrinth – in my own unique way

I queried the lyrics to the song ‘Magic Dance’

Bowie’s crush on young Sarah, and that bulge in his pants



February started off crap, with an unpopular list

My fave films of the Eighties, was a blog largely missed

Then came my birthday – Happy Blogday to me!

Thirty-six reasons why it’s a shit age to be

Valentine’s was no better, forget ‘roses are red’

There’s far better ways to prove romance ain’t dead.


Take Me Out 1

March then began, like February before

With the ten Nineties films that I most adore

What followed, was Paddy, and his show ‘Take Me Out’

It’s my guilty pleasure – of that there’s no doubt

I then turned to politics, and revealed my plan

For improving the country, when I’m the top man

March drew to a close with the last blog of three

The best Noughties films (according to me)



A weird start to April, as I discussed my commute

And the ‘friends’ that I meet every day while en route

Like ‘The Angriest Cyclist’ (hope he falls in a ditch)

‘Mr Late’, ‘Fiat Fitty’ and ‘Toyota Dwarf Bitch’

God how I hate her, the maniacal elf

Which lead rather nicely to ‘Go Blog Yourself’

I admitted I swear lots, but sometimes ‘Oh poo’

Just isn’t enough, only ‘fuck off’ will do

Then a break from all that pent-up aggression

As I wrote about Ollie and his sticker obsession

His Panini collection for the Euros comp

Was followed by some girls who had crawled from a swamp

A hen party so ugly, like you would not believe

Each with a face that would make a man heave

I continued the theme with my brother’s stag do

(but there was only so much that I could tell you)



This took us to May, and, like a berk

I stupidly agreed to play Rounders with work

Before risking a backlash of jibes and derision

By declaring my fondness for drunk Eurovision

I bought a ‘Parrot’ phone system, but was quick to deduce

That an actual parrot would be more fucking use

Then ‘The Blog Trip’ brought May to an end

Before June started off with Ollie’s new friend


Photo 4

‘Isaac’, the class bear, came with us down South

He wrote about London (with his foul potty-mouth)

Then I went shopping, with varied results

Argos got the worst of my rage and insults

Breakfast became a Shakespearean play

And I ended the month with a nice Father’s Day



Into July, and a tale of friendship

As myself and a mate took an epic road trip

Visiting football clubs all ‘round the land

Raising awareness of ‘Kidscan’ – and over two grand

Next, a disaster, as my wife went away

Single parenting – I nearly quit the first day

I know I’m not manly – less man and more mouse

That didn’t stop me building a wendyhouse

Our anniversary comes at the end of July

And sometimes my gift ideas can go awry

To make matters easier, I designed my own list

(although reading it back, I might have been pissed)



Moving to August, I considered it best

That I re-wrote the two-year development test

‘Can your child thread beads on a shoelace?’ it asked

Along with other potentially life-threatening tasks

I risked splitting the nation in ‘Blog on the Tyne’

It was North v South – but a draw made things fine

I concluded by explaining why I detest the beach

I’d rather sunbathe on nails and dip my toes into bleach.



The month started sadly – there was no new blog

As we’d just said ‘goodnight’ to Bexley, our dog

Instead I re-posted an entry I’d penned

He was more than our pet, we’d lost our best friend

In ‘Blog on the Dance Floor’, I explained I can’t dance

I’d sooner be up there in only my pants

After which, I wrote about how, on a whim

I decided it’s time I taught Ollie to swim

In ‘Blogman’s Holiday’ I described our home town

Reading it back, did I have a breakdown?

I ended the month choosing my favourite child

But Ollie was mardy and Isaac was wild

Isaac’s now two, and Ollie is six

I love them both dearly, but they can be fucking pricks



In ‘Blind as a Blog’, I discussed my eye test

and how I ended the trip as a rampant sex pest

Then in ‘Blogs will be Blogs’ I had a nice day

Taking the boys to our local soft play

But ‘Good Time Charlie’s’ is such a peculiar place

And I ended up hitting a girl in the face

It’s not like I punched her, she walked on the pitch

As I took my free kick, the daft little bi… prat

Back to our own kids, and they again felt my wrath

By behaving like gremlins when they go in the bath



I started November by raising objection

To the candidates fighting the US election

But they must have missed ‘Chilli Blog With Cheese’

As they elected Trump and put the world on it’s knees

We then took the boys to Disneyland Paris

Where they tried their best to upset and embarrass

We also encountered the worst of the Brits

And I ended up, again, with a case of the shits

Keeping things personal, ‘The Blog’s Bollocks’ came next

While I explained how men should have regular checks

Despite starting the month with Trump and Clinton

I ended more cheerfully with some ‘Blogminton’

Despite playing the sport for over a year

I’m still rather shit, and just go for the beer.



I started December – last month of the year

Admitting I used to come over all queer

Hardly the most endearing of blogs

When you’re fainting head-first into the ladies’ bogs

The penultimate entry brought festivity

As I re-wrote the usual nativity

Mary and Joseph, three useless ‘wise’ men

A modern take on the story of Jesus, Amen

The year ended with Isaac and a case of the pox

A trip to Volkswagen, and a crummy gift box

A failed trip into Costa, a man searching for fags

A large helping of stress, with a couple of gags.


That, my dear friends, is a review of this year

I wish you and your families much festive cheer

Thank you for reading, you make this worthwhile

I hope you enjoy it, and my blog makes you smile

But since I’ve got mince pies and sherry to quaff

That’s it now from me. Sandbach Hatter, signing off.


See you all in 2017 x