PeeLee

The Cucumber Intruder

If you love cucumber’s, if you eat them and enjoy them daily…if you feel a warm, soothing glow whenever you see something that reminds you of them…well…it might be best to look away right NOW. It might be best, in fact, to go running to your cucumber and hug it – because this post is about hating cucumbers. Why? Because they are useless, taste of nothing, and have been awarded a name that is far too interesting for something so More

On Impulse

Recently, being a lover of the coast and an enthusiast of all things with a good vibe, I thought Why not just go on down to Brighton? Brighton is fantastic; it is both a seaside resort embracing the ways of the olden days – rides, mini golf, bad food that costs too much and a pier that isn’t accessible because someone thought Why not burn it down, actually? – and a hip place with decent shops, decent food and a real culture that the UK isn’t exactly filled with. So I went there, just like that: the plan was to meet up with a friend who was living near the pier – not a tramp, someone with a house with a roof, though if I had to spend the weekend with any tramp I am sure it would be with one who lives in Brighton – and have a darn good time.

On the train I suddenly remembered: doesn’t someone else I know also live there…someone who works for a Fish oil Supplements company ? Someone I have not seen for an age?It took a while but eventually, approximately thirty miles down the track later, I recalled it: an old friend from sixth form. He was there, now, living with his wife!

So I considered: should I contact this person who used to be a friend but I haven’t seen or heard from in a full ten years?On paper it sounded sketchy at best. I mean, this person and me weren’t exactly best friends…what if I found him on Facebook and sent a message and heard nothing at all back?

But what did I have to lose, that was the thing? The worst that could happen would be we didn’t meet up. Or he sent me a text and said I never did like you, moron! But I tried not to think of that.

The story ends like this: he did reply, we did meet up, and I did not regret it. Brilliant. It’s times like that that you remember: sometimes it’s better just to go on impulse.

Do You Remember…?

Do you remember the tsunami? As in that enormous wave that wiped out a lot of Thailand a while ago? What about that hurricane…hurricane Ka…ah, I can’t quite think of the name.

I wish that was a conversation that I had made up, I really do, but the fact is that the other day while waiting to buy a train ticket I heard this behind me. Two people who, it seems, who had been invaded by aliens: aliens, for that matter, who really didn’t do their homework before beaming their way to earth.

It troubles me. I walk down the street and see people holding copies of Heat and The Mirror and what about all the serious stuff that has happened in the last few years? To many that is all but forgotten about. Even last week I felt as thought I had wandered in to a badly put-on amateur dramatics show: two people arguing about whether the recent oil leak had happened in the Gulf of Mexico, or somewhere near France…

What confuses me the most is that the media and the news is, now, more accessible than ever! Shouldn’t that mean that we now don’t have to look far to find out what is going on in the world? Or maybe it is simple to explain: maybe breast enhancement surgery and the X Factor is just so much more riveting than thousands of sea creatures suffering at the greedy hands of man? That’s a shame, but we can do something about it: when someone near you needs educating, just politely turn around and inform them.

World Cup Woe!

The flags are down, the players are down and out and the whole country seems to be on a collective down, except for one man – me. I’ve got a World Cup betting slip with Germany written next to those magical figures of 14-1, and so the traditional capitulation of the England football team didn’t bother me one jot.

What does get my goat, however, is the wave of force-fed optimism and barely concealed contempt for all things foreign that More

Hard To Do?

Staying in touch is hard to do. But is it? If there’s one thing I have realized recently it is that staying in touch is easy to do. It’s the procrastinating that’s the hard part–wondering if the person you are thinking about is actually bothered about hearing from you, or not.

Back when I got my first job promoting Calf implants (of all things…) I used to be one of those people who just thought about getting in touch but More

Lucky One

I am really quite lucky. I have good dreams. I’m not talking about super fantastical ones where the world is amazing and world peace is a problem long since solved, I am talking about ones where I can fly. This might sound quite standard and boring but please, bear with me: this is much more interesting than a cure for warts (which, incidentally, is what I dreamed about last night…)

Firstly, in these dreams there is a certain amount of More