Re-Blast From The Past

Turns out that this month marks 15 years since I started my first tour of duty at TVW (a predecessor company to the one I currently work for). Out of the 7 people in my original training group two have last 15 years and one, me, has returned to work at the company. That's not bad odds.

Anyway... whilst confirming that fact via this blog I found this little post and I just couldn't resist resharing. What a silly boy I was! Love it.

I Am A Bad Man

I know I fail. I suck. I hate me too. There, you have it, BAD JAE! I think this blog should actually be renamed "Bad Jae". It'd be a lot easier.

But in other news... I've lost a stone in two weeks on Diet Chef! Amazing stuff. I admit since then there has been two major slips from the diet (a Saturday night curry fest and Tuesday's pancake extravaganza) but I think sometimes indulging isn't totally awful.

I also now own... dumbbells! Yes.... the first piece of exercise equipment I've ever owned. Slowing easing myself into exercising... watch this space (to see them sit in a corner and gather dust...)

Jim's doing okay considering his ever increasing list of hospital appointments. We used to joke that he was falling apart, and he's now trying to live up to this reputation!

Current obsession has moved from Doctor Who (a temporary change I suspect) back to another old favourite: the German Democratic Republic! What fun!

Today's Blast From The Past is.... The Last Days of Sam America in honour of the fact that today I placed an order with... Euroffice! Those were the days, huh? And what did I order? Bubble bags. Why? Because I've decided to sell off my comic collection. I'm sure a few tears will be shed before they go...

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

Have I Ever Liked Civil Partnerships?

No, I think will be the answer clearly spelt out in my post from the past for today, in honour of the current media rumours of movement on this issue.

Let's see what Past Jae thought of them back in December 2005 (PS reading back, I think I was a little harsh but there is still a small part of me that agrees with Past Jae):

I really don't wish to darken anyone's special day now that civil partnerships are legal. But those who are taking part in civil partnerships are selling themselves, and the rest of the LGBT community, short. They have given up the fight not just for true equality, but also for freedom for everyone (be they gay or straight) from the demands of the "righteous".

We have failed to meet two totally different goals of two quite different parts of our community. One was total equality, to have no difference between gay, straight, trangendered etc; to have full, equal marriage rights not similar to, but the same as, heterosexuals. That we have now not achieved and may not achieve for decades!

The other goal was more radical. It was to change the face of the world, and to free us all from a very self destructive socialisation we fell into around the time of the industrial revolution. This was the mixing up of romantic love and marriage, a mix that really doesn't fit. By selling out to this bizarre and strange mix of marriage (a formerly practical institution) and love (not practical, beautifully aloft) we have enslaved ourselves and abandoned our basic principles.

Somehow today a dream has died, and something wonderful has become dreary.

Link to post here


If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

The Love Of My Life

Whilst Jim might rightly be described as such there is a second; the animal kingdom. No not in that way you dirty minded person! But imagining my life without interactions with animals is difficult.

So it recent things I've picked up on at work really disturb me. Kelly, an Australian, was talking about her recent riding trip to Wales when one of my colleagues mentioned she'd never been on a farm. I was taken aback. Never been on a farm? It had never crossed my mind that someone would not have visited a farm.

Now you might think that coming from Kent I'm some sort of abnormal country boy. But trust me I'm not. I was brought up in Snodland and Folkestone, which are fairly average towns as it goes. Although I admit that I had a best friend who lived on a farm, the reason I was shocked was that a trip to a farm was one of the first school outings my school every did. It was treated as one of the "basics". You learn to add. You learn to write. You visit a farm and learn that animals smell. It's all delightful.

So I was shocked by that but discovered she wasn't alone, and some even suggested that the idea of "touching" animals repelled them. I thought that sounded like something you'd want treated like a fear of balloons or an annoying twitch.

I know, I'm being incredibly judgmental and wrongly projecting my world views on to others. But I sorta feel sorry for these people.

So I said I wasn't a country bumpkin but I have spent a lot of time in contact with animals. First the domesticated ones; the pets of my life:

11 cats (Misty, Garfield, Marmalade, Bonnie & Clyde, Crystal, Millie, Angel, Herlock, Scooby, Tinkerbell)
4 dogs (Max, Shane, Geisha, Molly)
1 American bullfrog called Pocket Money (sadly banned in this country)
Uncountable amount of fish both goldfish, pond fish and tropical.
Stick insects
6 or 7 rabbits (Shudder... BOB!)
A guinea pig
2 goats
2 tortoises (Thomas I and Thomas II both of whom were found wild and returned (i.e. they wandered off) to the wild in and around Snodland)
5 hamsters (Honey & Spice, Chekov and a couple more)

Then the wild ones. We used to take Shane and Geisha for walks in down The Pit in Snodland every day and it was one of the most amazing places for wildlife I've ever been to. Adders, smooth snakes, grass snakes, slow worms, sand lizards, common lizards, newts a plenty and frogs of every colour (some of rather worrying colours). Nothing quite like seeing a pike staring up out of the water at you from underneath an overhanging tree. You'd think twice about getting into the water after that, trust me! Seeing the dark shapes of unusually big fish (carp but could of been whales the way they looked!) from up on the edges of the pit looking down. Poaching goose eggs (yummy when scrambled!). Hunting rabbits. Fishing on the Medway. Hunting lugworms in Dymchurch so we could go fish off the sea wall at high tide. Even just walking to work from Lympne and seeing foxes, rabbits, pheasants and... sheep. Horse riding. Horse jumping.

And then the exotic:

Being mere centimetres from the face of a rather pissed off silverback at Port Lympne, riding an elephant in Thailand, watching porpoises swim along side Bill's yacht in Spain as we went for a cruise or stroking a tiger in Kanchanaburi.

What would my life really be like without those experiences? Amazingly dull. Terrifyingly dull. And whilst I don't think everyone SHOULD have those experiences I really wish they did.

I'm sure they can say I'm missing out on things they do that they love. But at least I'd probably not be repelled by it.

This blogger works for nothing but the joy of writing but always appreciates things bought from his wishlist

Another Gay Sunshine Day

I've been having a rather gay time off work. Let's not talk about the interview in case we jinx it...

I've been watching QAF US and I think I've finally decided it is better than QAF UK, even if this does make my teenage self scream out with rage. Plus I've taken a gander back at one my "Favourite But Nobody Else Likes Them" movies: But I'm A Cheerleader. Love that movie...

Whilst half heartedly tidying the bedroom the other day, I came across the old diaries I rescued a couple of months ago from the parents home. As I picked them up a couple of sheets of paper fell to the floor. Two were the first two letters Stephen ever sent me way back in 2000. In perfect condition one even still had the picture he sent me tucked inside it. I was transported back to that same teenage self as soon as I read them...

But also tucked inside was a letter from Auntie Melly when she was in hospital in March 2000. In absolute perfect condition, not an extra fold or mark on it, it could have been sent yesterday. I was half torn between smiling at her lame jokes and crying at the subtext pouring from each word, so obvious to me now but alas not then, of her terror and her loneliness at her situation. I wish, obviously, what happened never happened at all. But I also wish that if it had to happen that it could of happened when I was older, more independent. I could have been there for her when she needed someone. I'm nearly as old as she was when she died. Hardly a life at all. I'd give anything to have her about still. It's funny how the grieving stops but the pain never goes away.

I can't believe I've never seen this video before...



It has Kathy Najimy in it! I am slacking... thanks Jim for finally bringing it to my attention.

Soooooo poor right now, I'm dreaming of a Diet Coke break and I'm not even dreaming of the hunky guy. Just the Diet Coke would do. Less than 12 hours until pay day...



Did you really think I wasn't dreaming of the hunky guy??? ;) This is me we are talking about.

This blogger works for nothing but the joy of writing but always appreciates things bought from his wishlist

Edinboro Castle

Last night I headed out to the Edinboro Castle pub with Kasey and Jon (former workmates of mine) and had a rather lovely evening in Camden.

We were joined by other former workmates Chris I and Dan who have continued an old Wednesday Club tradition. Ben K, Steve and Husam also turned up, a full 2 hours after I did which confused them as we'd all left from the same place. :D

The pub itself was large, well decorated with really efficient service and a good range of ales, lagers and ciders. My favourite thing though was the glowing birds used to indicate food had been ordered on your table. So cool. Sadly the food was expensive, lacklustre and the portions tiny. Good for a drink just stay clear of eating here.

It was nice to see some old faces and good to hear that their post EO careers have flourished.

*NOTE* My hiatus is not over... but infrequent personal diary entries may appear as and when i do something I want to make a note of. :D

Contenders READY!

Remember Saturday evenings on ITV? Do you remember Gladiators? Oh it was great... muscular men, determined contestants and, of course, John Anderson as referee. Well it's back... on Sky One. I vaguely heard about it's revival but decided to avoid it in case it ruined my memories of the good ol' days. And also... I have issues with Sky (well with Rupert Murdoch and his news empire's homophobia).

How wrong I was to avoid it! I caught some adverts this week showing the lovely Atlas and decided "Hey, I'll give this a go". Brilliant, just as good as it used to be! I know, this is not exactly high brow or worthy television.

But it is fun!

Now I can sleep easy with dreams of a Gladiator sandwich...

Oh The Wonderful Paper Round Of Yore!

It would appear that newsagents are struggling to get paperboys (and girls). Reading that article made me get all nostalgic for my old paper round.

Funny thing is I used to hate the bloody thing. Up at silly o'clock in the morning and then out into the cold. Then there was the waiting for Roger, the shopowner, to actually open up. This could be any time from 6.00a.m. until 8.00a.m depending on how drunk he'd gotten the night before. Then we'd spend our time sorting out the papers and magazines before loading them up into extremely heavy bags. Then the battle with the letterboxes, dogs and crazy people would begin.

I started off on Round 4 (the boring round with a house on it that was about a mile away from the rest). Then I got promoted to Round 3, the largest round (hence more Christmas tips), the round with the highest ratio of crazy to sane people. And I finished off my time on Round 2, the retirement round which involved far too many copies of the Daily Express and the Daily Star. Old people need to stop reading smut!

But I was doing the paper round at a time when I was just realising who I was and the hours (Round 3 was VERY large... used to take an hour on a weekday and 2 hours on Saturday and Sunday) I spent doing the round allowed me to have some really nice "me time". And the fact the Sixth Former (the subject of my unrequited affections at the time) lived on my round made it even more interesting.

I remember every single person on my round had their own preferences for delivery. Some expected you to open their unlocked front door and throw the paper in. Some expected you to use magic and fit the Sunday Times through their keyhole letterbox without taking it apart. One, described by the guy I took the round off of as "The Cowboy" due to his habit of wearing a cowboy hat even when in his dressing gown, used to always meet me at his door. I think he must have waited for me all morning, every morning.

The sad fact was, I really didn't need the money (I was 13 and I never really wanted much). My parents had signed me up to give me some "responsibility". As soon as I'd get paid every Saturday I'd have spent all my money on magazines before I'd even left the shop. Roger must have loved me.

Those were good times. Day dreaming my way through the morning, free to drive crazy on the roads as there wasn't any traffic that early. Bliss.

Blasts From The Past: The Loft Story

You know there is nothing quite like reading old posts from this very blog. I was only 19 and just about to move from Folkestone to Lympne.

Saturday, September 21, 2002

The loft has always been my space. So it was my duty to start the moving out process there. I didn't realise it would be so emotionally draining.

Firstly I had to go through over 500 letters.... from my Canadian pen pal, the SFX saga, Stephen, and random bods.... I threw the SFX lot straight off. Then I lovingly perused the others. It was really sad to peer through the dusty remnants of my past. People I had loved, lost, hated, treated badly. All were there in my letter collection. I miss getting letters. At one point I used to get 10 a day (that was during the SFX penpal scenario)!

Then I got a surprise. A letter from Melly while in hospital. From my more mature point of view I see it was really a cry for help... although at the time I treated as Melly being her usual fun and silly self. I cried when I saw it. Sobbed. Melly I will always love you.

Then I went further back, uncovering old journals, my own version of ancient texts. :o) So many entries. So much stuff I had forgotten. Then I found a porn collection of shocking quantity. I can't even remember it, but it was up there. God it must be like 5 years old! Threw it out anyway.... which was good for me really as with the current parental settings I haven't seen porn in ages, yet was restrained and grown up and didn't even give this collection a passing glance as I chucked it. Except one that said, "When the fuck did I get you?"

I realised that I have almost 1000 issues of 2000AD! Ouch have decided to throw out my entire mag collection to ensure I have space for my comics at my new house.

Then finally as I moved the boxes aside I found my old hideaway. It consisted of a mattress, a bunch of books, a writing pad filled with my stories, a torch and my Book of Shadows. I hadn't been there in years. My Book of Shadows and a Dean R Koontz book (half read) were left open. It was like one day a couple of years back I had been called out for dinner..... and never gone back. I sat there for a while reading my Book of Shadows, and wondering what happened to the nice quiet Jae who once sat up here reading. When was he replaced by bitchy, loud Jae?

Blasts From The Past

There are some memories so terrible, so absolutely awful that your minds only sensible thing to do is to block access to them completely. Today one of those memories escaped it's incarceration... I remember the Purple People Eater movie...



God that was an awful movie that for some reason 6 year old Jae just had to watch over and over again. And I could because, sadly, my Mum worked in a video rental store and I got the privilege of hiding out back watching 1) god awful movies (Howard The Duck), 2) terrifying movies I smuggled in using an empty Flintstones Meet The Jetsons case (such as Killer Klowns From Outer Space and Slugs) or 3) weirdo childrens movies such as Purple People Eater and Pinocchio and the Emperor of the Night.



There I was, a boy with a whole store of videos at my disposal, and I used that time to watch the dregs of the late eighties...

Blasts From The Past, JD and Coke and Commander in Chief

I cannot put into words my love of JD and Coke. That is the drink of Gods. Sadly, as many who know me are well aware, I don't handle JD too well and must only partake of this devine liquor in moderation.

Whilst looking for a picture of JD and COke I found the following:



Is this the best idea ever?

I think so...

Seeing the full season of Commander in Chief on iTunes prompted me to give it another watch. Jesus, I loved that show. And not just because of Matt Lanter!



That show idealised the Presidency and just makes me fell all warm and tingly inside thinking about how great the world would be if America could have such a bloody awesome President. Likely? Nope. But one can but dream!

Blasts From The Past, Dave Lee Roth

A series of posts about those memories that just won't get out of my head. I hope writing them down will help exorcise the demons...

My mother is to blame for my Dave Lee Roth memories. She was an eighties rock chick (she's moved on to Scissor Sisters since then) and she listened to Van Halen, Kiss, Motorhead, Marc Bolan and above all else... Dave Lee Roth.

She had one video and on it was Just A Gigolo, California Girls, Yankee Rose and Goin' Crazy. And she played it constantly... go to her house and hum a few bars of any of those and she and my siblings will sing all the way through....

It reminds of a fun time in my life, living in Snodland, spending my days at Primary School whilst my evenings and weekends were spent walking the dogs around the great chalk pits nearby (full of allsorts of wildlife) and spending time with my mates. Innocent, sweet times...

Blasts From The Past, Looking For Love

A series of posts about those memories that just won't get out of my head. I hope writing them down will help exorcise the demons...



1998. Dear Constant Reader... that year just crops up in my life so often it's unreal. It is, quite simply, the year I was born. There would be no Jae without 1998. And for all it's goodness as the year I realised I was gay, the year I was deeply in puppy love with The Sixth Former, the year of SAGA work experience (ooo... topical) and more; it was also a year of great depression.

I had few friends outside of school as I had moved away from them (the very next street...), my geography teacher placed me in detention for weeks over study leave (mock exams) for getting a C on my coursework, my parents found out about my sexuality the day after they found out about the detention making a bad experience oh so much worse, and I was just plain unhappy with life.

So I fled into music videos, watching MTV for as many hours as possible before I got thrown out of the house every evening to wander Folkestone (yes my parents believed forcing me out of the house to wander Folkestone alone would somehow cheer me up). And this was one of the videos that just stayed with me. At the time I thought finding someone to love would make life better. And this song kind of confirmed it for me.

Thanks Karen Ramirez.

Blasts From The Past, Dumpton Park

A series of posts about those memories that just won't get out of my head. I hope writing them down will help exorcise the demons...

In 2003 I went out with a bloke who lived in Ramsgate. Ramsgate is on Planet Thanet. For those without Kentish connections, Planet Thanet was (and probably still is) one of the centres of Chavness in this universe.

I visited most weekends, leaving on the train straight after work on Friday and getting back to Folkestone on a late train on Sunday. I'd usually get off at Ramsgate station and walk the 20 minute journey to his house.

After he dumped me (collective boos would be appreciated now, Dear Constant Reader) I had to return to his house to collect some things. That day I got off, and on, at Dumpton Park station which I had belatedly discovered was on his road (trust me to find out just when I didn't need to!).

Dumpton Park is a tiny little station hidden in it's own man-made valley behind some trees. It is the lowest platform I've been on in this country and you practically have to throw yourself on to the train.

And so we get to the Blast From The Past... the words "Dumpton Park". Due to the fact my commute to work goes along the Waterloo East and Charing Cross route into London, which is also the route down to Folkestone and on to Ramsgate, I tend to hear announcements for a train to Dumpton Park almost daily. And every time I hear the words at the end of the announccement, "Sandwich, Ramsgate and DUMPTON PARK", my mind goes back to that horrible Novembers day in 2003.

I'll be glad the day they cease operating trains to that bastard station so I never need hear the words again.

Blasts From The Past, The Glo Worm

A series of posts about those memories that just won't get out of my head. I hope writing them down will help exorcise the demons...

One of my first memories is one that just won't leave me alone.

There used to be a chip shop on Tonbridge Road, Maidstone. I don't know if it's still there but I remember it used to be covered in brown tiles, and it was pretty small.

This must of been when I was only 3 or 4 and I had been taken to this chip shop by some old lady. I have very little idea of who she was (a mother of a boyfriend of my Mum?) but I still remember where she lived. Every time I drive by her road I crane my neck down it to see if I can see her house. Another Blast From The Past there!

Anyway... I was in possession of a hard plastic Glo Worm at the time and it was my favourite thing in the whole world. So good that I played with it on the ledge by the window while waiting for our chips.

Why does this moment stick in my head? Because I left the Glo Worm there. To this day if you put chips in front of me my concentration goes out the window...

I remember that losing that Glo Worm was as traumatic an experience as a 3 year old could have without the need for the authorities to get involved. And so every so often I find myself thinking about that Glo Worm and whatever did happen to it.

Strange really that 20 years later I still wonder about a toy I can only ever remember playing with on this one occasion. I like to tell myself that the Glo Worm was found by an adventuring toddler who took in on amazing journeys around the world before retiring to Spain. You never know...

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Blasts From The Past, Part One

An irregular series of brain dumps...

I don't know about you but I have these niggling memories that just won't go away. Memories that just go round and round for weeks then disappear for a couple of years before returning to haunt me again. Now, when I say haunt it's not because I consider them bad memories. They are actually very random and stupid. No I mean they just won't go away!

So Jae's first Blast From The Past is a scene from a 1992 episode of Taggart. See what I mean. RANDOM. Let's set the background:

When I went to primary school in Sellindge my mother decided that I could no longer stay home alone after school. Instead every day after school I went to some womans house in the middle of a sheep field. Seriously. Anyhew... her daughters were a few years below me in school but I got on with them, and they watched Star Trek: TNG every day so they weren't that bad. Things I remember: her cooking always tasted awful. One of her daughters names was Alice. And the girls were pretty much constantly naked in the house which meant I had to stare at the ceiling during breaks in TNG. Bizarre.

Somehow, and now I really don't understand what my mother was thinking, I ended up going on holiday with this bizarre family to the Lake District. We stayed in a lovely old cottage.

Actually, come to think of it, this is the setting for two Blasts From The Past's but I'll save the other one for another post.

So one evening on this holiday I was allowed to stay up quite late and I watched my first (and only) ever episode of Taggart. I've since discovered it was called "Nest of Vipers". Basically the killer used exotic animals to kill his victims. Now Mr Shadowman was still, at that point, considered not to exist sooooo basically it dramatises my ultimate fear at the time; someone leaving a poisonous snake in my bedroom who kills me just after waking me up so I can die with a terrified look on my face. So it was scary... yeah... I was messed up.

But the one scene that really sticks out is the one where the killer has a victim round for dinner and tries to kill her with frog poison on her spoon. The scene involves him licking the spoon in a strangely reptilian way. This is the scene that just won't leave my head... I cannot lick a spoon without that scene playing through my mind.

Maybe it's because I felt the actor playing the murderer was actually quite cute but had no idea at the time that that was what I was thinking. Maybe it was because I felt the portrayal of him was a little... queer? Even if he was killing women, and again I certainly wouldn't of thought this at the time. Or maybe because the rest of the show was just too terrifying for words and that scene just put the weird icing on the scaly cake.

I think I need to see it again just to try and get this out of my head... so I've added it to my Amazon Wishlist

P.S. On a completely unrelated note my birthday is on the 18th June.

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