Apologies in advance for the brevity of this post, but I have just had a very long day packing in preparation to move into my new house.

Yep, I managed it! Admittedly, my ambition was to buy my first house before my 30th birthday. I was 30 this year so I am a little bit late but I got there in the end. Of course, none of this would have been possible without the help of my girlfriend as she is the one who fronted the deposit for us to buy together. She got lucky a few years ago and managed to buy an ex-council property at a ridiculously discounted price. The great thing is that four years later the house's price has risen to match equivalent sized properties in the area. Result!

Our new home is a gem, in my opinion, anyway. It has 3 bedrooms, loft, [small] bathroom, downstairs toilet, conservatory and the best bits.......86-foot garden with double garage (electric 'roll-up' door!), rear view to Great Sultans/golf course (cant see the golfers though), end of terrace (I think of it as semi detached, lol), 3 year old kitchen and finally... a cast iron log burner in the living room! It’s amazing how the smallest details can be the deciding factor in choosing between two houses in the same area.

Our friends will be helping us to move on Thursday. Sleepy et al. I thanks ya in advance.

If you know me, then come and visit some time. No excuses, you have been invited!

Yesterday I thought enough is enough; “I’m going to clean that bin shed”! The said bin shed is outside of my girlfriend’s house and it has been the bane of my life over the past four months. I shall explain…

Six months ago, a typical family moved in two doors away. When I say typical, I mean typical for the Landport area of Portsmouth: man, girlfriend, mother, baby and Staffordshire bull terrier cross. I must point out that these people DO NOT represent the majority of civilised folk that live in Portsmouth; however, they and their peers do contribute to something of a, (dare I say it) underclass.

Anyway, from the moment they arrived, they busied themselves with emptying the house of old bits of wood, carpet, vacuum cleaners etc. and dumping it all into the bin shed area directly outside my girlfriend’s house. To make matters worse, the boyfriend of the house started to throw in their rubbish bags ‘over arm’ style and, inevitably, they spit open on the wood. This has continued ever since and layers of rubbish have been slowly building up.

The crunch came about two months ago when I witnessed a couple of shitty nappies lying on the top of the rest of the trash. I was horrified and immediately called the council to arrange some sort of cleanup. In short, I have called weekly and have even been invited into the office to talk to a clerk, but all in vain. The clerk has informed me on several occasions that he has passed on the case to the ‘appropriate’ department and that, while he is sympathetic, there is nothing more he can do. I believe him, although, it doesn’t take away the fact that the rubbish has not been removed. Even the bin men are weary of going near the shed and only take a token number of bags.

The real problem with all of this, besides the awful smell and health hazard, is that my girlfriend is trying to sell her house and the rubbish is a major turnoff. This is one instance where I simply do not have the time to pursue the council to the ‘next stage’ (News, Environmental Health) so I have resorted to being the bigger man and clearing the problem myself.

I bought some paper overalls, 3M masks and black gloves and myself and herself entered the danger zone dressed like the stars of CSI or Life of Grime (take your pick). It took us over two hours to re-bag and clear the shed, I nearly chundered twice. The organic waste at the bottom of the layers had decomposed to the point where it was a thick, black slime, similar in appearance to crude oil!! There were slugs the size of carrots and earthworms the size of grass snakes!

In conclusion, the bin shed is now tidy and I am hoping that next Friday the bin men will take the twelve neatly piled bags of rubbish. At least it looks like a bin shed again and it doesn’t smell. No viewings of the house as yet, but its early days. At least potential buyers won’t be running in terror; well, at least not from the sight of the rubbish.

N.B. The bin shed may be clean, but my beef with the council is by no means over! The News may have a story yet - I have the before and after photos.

Have had a shit day today, so I must apologise if what follows is not among my happiest of thoughts...

It all started yesterday when the heavens opened and drenched me on my way in to school. I'm not impartial to a 'little' bit of rain; however, for those of you who are not too clued as to the recent meteorological events of our fair isle, IT PISSED DOWN! To make things worse, I was wearing a pair of canvas shoes and jean-style trousers; the kind that dry within an afternoon when hung out after being washed, but stays wet for an epoch when you are wearing them.

So, there I was, in school dripping wet. Many of my colleagues arrived in a similar state and the pupils, in their typical way, were splashing about in 4 inches of rainwater in the playground (they seemed to think it was funny to risk contracting acute pneumonia). Anyway, it turned out that the water that they were 'playing' in contained sewage!!! Yes, that’s right, sewage. Nasty, I know, but it is after hearing this from the deputy head of the school that the day got worse.

The pupils were herded into the hall and told to "sit quietly" by one of the senior teachers!! Now, call me sceptical, but I find it very difficult to comprehend why it is that people can say so much without consciously thinking about how ridiculous they might sound. "Sit quietly"? They're kids! Wet, smelly, full of additives, refined carbohydrate-fuelled kids. Of course they're not going to sit quietly. DOH!

After 30 minutes the school hall was up to 90% humidity and you could cut a slice of the air and take it away with you: "would you like a portion of arse crack or perhaps a helping of BO to go with your slice of rancid air"? If the smell wasn’t bad enough, the childrens' behaviour was worse. It took up until 12:30pm to eventually send all of the pupils home, by the end of which my entire throat was so dry that I could have easy been tempted to drink a glass of the rainwater from the playground.

That was yesterday...

Today the school was closed to the children and the staff were expected to go in for, surprise, surprise...MEETINGS! The day dragged on and on and on and...

At lunchtime, a colleague and I got an egg thrown at us while smoking a fag in the estate across the road. Luckily, the egg missed. I suspect that it was just some chav honing his primitive instincts. At any rate, I shouted back, "Ah, you missed, ye fuckin' idiot". Childish, I know. I guess from now on I will be smoking at the bus stop.

By now, I must be honest that I have run out of steam writing this post. I was all fired up for it at the start of the evening, after a friend of mine and my own cousin sent me ignorant texts that just topped of my day, but now… I’m in check and relaxed and am looking forward to a chilled out weekend. I wish you all the same. Xxx

P.S. The molecule at the top is the active chemical found in absinthe; generic name Thujone. Thanks S.

I have considered for a long time now the possibility that a friend of mine could be suffering from Tourette's/Aspergers. The precise extent of her condition is still unknown to me; however, on a scale of 1-10, I would imagine that she rates at around an 8!

I have chosen to write about this because she constitutes a big part of my private life and, most importantly, provides me with an endless source of humour (whether she knows it or not). Therefore, I have decided to share with you five of her most interesting and funny mannerisms/habits; particularly the ones which have lead me to believe that she is suffering from Tourette's/Asbergers:

1. The excessive use of bad language, especially in the company of people who don’t appreciate bad language.
2. The fact that she wouldn’t bat an eyelid at using the word c**t. In fact, I am sure that she truly believes this word to be on a par with words like “delightful, as in: “that little boy is delightful”.
3. She has an aversion to loud noises and usually exclaims her distain by threatening to murder the perpertraitor.
4. She has an obsession with keeping her “space”. It cracks me up that she has her own set of draws (as in chest of draws) next to “her chair” in the living room.
5. Her unfailing ability to recall facts and (more funnily) bend the truth when it suits her.

If anyone out there is qualified to comment on the above, please feel free to post your diagnoses.

A strong, white ethereal beam of light pierces the clouds and slams into the ground, burning a hole in its wake. Out of the smouldering abyss emerges the naked silhouette of a disoriented man. The man, clearly dazed by his arrival, pears through the darkness trying to ascertain his situation; how did he get here, what is this place, why is he here...?

I use this short and pathetic attempt at creative writing as an analogy for how I feel about my recent introduction to Blogging. So, please be gentle, I'm new to this and I don't think I can handle giggling little cliques of bloggers whispering away in the corner...Ooo, who's the new boy? He doesn't seem to know what he's doing!!

Why am I here? Not to be confused with the other "why am I here"?...

A good friend of mine is a frequent blogger (or is it blagger?) and is constantly reminding me to check a photo blog site of hers. The problem with this is that I find it very difficult to use the website and, therefore, cant be arsed most of the time. Instead, I prefer to wait until I see her to view the photos directly on her laptop. However, I have recently discovered that she has now turned her hands to writing and has (some how) managed to convince me into setting up my own blog site. God only knows what has possessed me to follow through her suggestions, as I don't usually like writing for long periods of time.

I like the idea of blogs, they're both informative and personal and they give users an insight into ones likes, dislikes, hopes, fears, political opinion, secret sexual orientation etc...

I don't suspect that my blog will be of very much interest to people other than those who know me. Similarly, I don't believe that I will post blogs very often. That said, I will try my best because it is something new and If I don't take this opportunity to join the new age of 'literary freedom fighters' I will feel left behind and, besides, I wont be able to tell my grandchildren that "I was there in 2006, I posted the TRUTH!!!” You.......STOP GIGGLING!