Crossing The Line

I have been having a passive aggressive argument about hair dryers for the last year with complete strangers. Every morning after the gym I shower and ready myself in my offices changing room.  A rather important part of my morning ritual is to blow dry my hair into a gloriously sleek and rather less edgy Pecky Blinders pompadour like hairdo. There are two hair dryers in the changing room and in some sick twisted game, there is only one plug. The hair dryers themselves are different models and as far as I am concerned the one you choose to use says rather a lot about you. One is a bells and whistles Babyliss number while the other is a decidedly understated Remington.  In my humble opinion the Remington or as I refer to it, Remi, is a far superior hair dryer, offering up a steady hot stream of air through a thin nozzle. while the Babyliss, rechristened Babs, is a dressed up tart who’s all image. It has blue lights and silver ventilation. You’d get more drying power ...

Smokers these days are more secretive and solemn when sparking up then heroine users on the street. In general you find most of them, skulk in dark secluded corners, eyes continuously darting back and fourth for any onlookers as they take secretive quick puckered puffs of there cigarette that is being held down by there side. The lit end of the cigarette is hidden directly under the palm of their hand, increasing the chances of a burn. All due to the undeniable sense of deep shame they feel burning hotter than the god dam sun. Poor fellas.  When it comes to walking the street, second hand smoke is literally the worst thing to be caught behind. I speed up and over take at the first opportunity.  Occasionally locking eyes with the person as I pass, both  of us understanding the reason for my Usain Bolt like speed. Both of us agreeing that it is necessary.  So why is it when you have the unfortunate luck of wandering in the path of person using a vape, they wil...

At times I tend to get a little over excited. Like a child a with a toy.  Last month I took a trip to Bangkok. The first leg of my journey was an Emirates flight from London to Dubai.  I boarded promptly and took my allocated seat near the back, I was in the aisle while a charming lady was in the window seat. We had struck it lucky, the middle seat was vacant. Hurray. Let me tell you what happened on the plane. I am not sure about you, but when I am first presented with the in flight entertainment I dedicated a good 10 or 15 minutes stock piling a favourites list the size of the a small country. This plane ride was no different.   It goes a little something like this. Rick and Morty season 2? yes to all of this ‘Tap tap tap’.  Ingrid goes west? Great movie ‘Tap tap tap’.  Classic Disney movies? get that shit in my list. ‘Tap tap tap tap’.  As I continued to add favourites to my hearts content I am completely oblivious to the growing tension, mo...

So. Let me ask you all a question. How was your Monday? Fabulous? Let me tell you about mine. Overall I was pretty happy with how my day unfolded. Work was both productive and tiring. A satisfying combination. I got to meet new colleagues and had interesting conversations to boot.  I managed to sneak in some catch up’s with work friends that resulted in plenty of laughter. The day was running so smoothly I was even able to to leave the office on time. Bonus. As a result of this I managed to arrive at the gym earlier than usual meaning I could hit it hard.  As I was leaving the gym I noticed a few eyes on me which always puts a little spring in my step. I cycled home in the glorious sunshine.  I prepared dinner as I listened to some music and jumped into the shower to wash away the gym sweat and day. I was feeling pretty content it was a good day.  Smiling to myself I turned to face the mirror. Enter the biggest face crack of the century. There, to the le...

Recently after a few drinks as you do on a typical Saturday night I made a cliche mistake. I started to peruse the various dating applications. As you do. I struck up a conversation while only slight inebriated with a nice chap. Okay so It was not a slight inebriation and more of an obliteration. We decided to move the conversation over to WhatsApp as is customary these days when you make the decision that the person you are talking to is not a complete weirdo. One you might one day come home from work to find them going through your bins, while humming the theme tune to psycho. You have eliminated that possibility through secretive and cleaver banter such as ' are you a weirdo?'. Anyways. He passed this test so we exchanged numbers. I saved his number under his name we shall call him 'Bob'  and added an emoji to help the name stand out.  This is something I do with anyone's number I gain from dating. I add an emoji. They have absolutely no thought pu...

 I have slowly come to the realisation that over the last few months, I like others, have become terribly addicted to using my mobile phone.  Numerous studies have been completed proving that receiving a notification on your phone release dopamine in our bodies. How utterly astounding is this? I wont lie. I am a high user of my device. I enjoy, scrolling through Instagram - bombarding others with funny memes. Sending lengthy voice messages on Whatsapp describing my day to my bestie and completely utterly useless quizzes on Buzzfeed.  Not mentioning my constant perusing of Grindr and Tinder. Enough said.  In a earth shattering decision I turned my phone off for a day.  Ground breaking eh. I needed to test myself and see how I coped without a mobile device to obsess over. I turned the device off on a Sunday evening and it was not powered back on until after 9am on the Tuesday of that week.  That way I could get the full experience.  Here was t...

I willingly gave up coffee on a schedule during the month of January. I say schedule because, it certainly was.  I decidedly choose not to drink coffee, Monday to Friday, the time I usually relied on it most. This was again a game of testing what I was made off. The background. I have been in a serious relationship with coffee from the age of 13. While everyone else was sipping there sugar filled milky tea I was using a french press to get my fix.  It was love at first taste, granted first taste was an instance Maxwell House red label, but every addict has to start somewhere right?! I enjoy the taste, the bitter after bite. I adore the smell, even the dirty coffee stank that lingers in the teacher’s staff room at every single school. Most of all, I enjoy the social aspect of it all. Nothing better then catching up over a coffee. Or even just going to a coffee shop to get some work done. Or an afternoon of cutting it up like cocaine and snorting it up both nostrils whi...

From the title you may have guest it. I took part in my own little version of Dry January.  I can hear you now. Oh how original Ray. Its oddly predictable isn't it. A dry January, or as I refer to it a dryish January.  Alarmingly the name dryish comes from the fact I had little confidence I would be able to achieve it and so didn’t want to set anyones expectations to something I wouldn’t be able to meet. Standard practice by yours truly, I detest failing. First of all, here are the facts. This was my first time trying this. I have no recollection of ever attempting it before or in fact being dry for a month since meeting the legal drinking age requirements.  I decided on trying it randomly with not much premeditated thought. From the haze of a hang over on new years day. It all looked pretty achievable.  The first week of January is a easy one. No one seems interested in doing much, everyone is facing the realities of a new year and is on a low after t...

So here is a shocker. I enjoy the gym. I really do. As a stress head I find that it helps relax me. As a vain mother fecker it soothes my ego to see some progress on this hot body.  All of this is a great bonus, however, my favourite thing to do at the gym is people watch. Not that way you perv. I am not talking about salivating over all the muscle bodies. Well not much anyway. I am more interested in the slightly off beat chaps that you encounter. These folk can offer some serious comic value as long as its not at your own expense. The other evening, during my stretches I noticed a girl next to me of a similar age wearing cow girl boots. I presumed she was on a quick demo tour of some sort checking out what the gym had to offer, but then I noticed the weights in her hands. Nope, girl just likes to work out in some western Daisy Dukes.  While we are on the topic of clothing - why do some gents wear jeans to the gym? recently there was even a chap wearing green cords. No...

What is the deal with everyones reaction to the sudden appearance of some sporadic snow? The entire population of London could talk of nothing else for an entire week with pre game talk beginning at the end of the previous week. I am  halfway through my 6th year living in this urban metropolis, It has snowed heavily once. To be fair, the one time it did in 2012, It snowed really bad and it did cause mayhem as the cities prep for such an event at the time was non existent. I know this all to well as I was trapped by Piccadilly circus for 2 hours in the middle of the night getting sober by the minute and getting wetter by the second. Side note, I was wearing a cardigan as a coat, I assure you it was a chunky knit and was the height of fashion at least to me at the time. Bad choice.  Further side note, I was so new to London I went out to a club on Piccadilly circus. Those were the days.  The weather stations and the BBC had the entire population of the United k...

Recently when changing my bed sheets I lost a pillow. Thats right, an entire pillow vanished from my peripheral view. It happened after everything had been changed into fresh linens.  I was constructing the masterpiece that is my princess like bed. I call it this as I have 6 normal pillows and 3 throw pillows. Don't you judge me.  Anyways; towards the end, I noticed I was one pillow short. Where could it be? I checked all around my room, moved boxes under my bed and checked the  laundry hamper. Possibly I had mistakenly added it to the wash which I had just put on full of my dirty sheets. One hour and 30 minutes later the wash finished, and as I hung it out there was no pillow to be seen. It had simply vanished. Seriously, how does one loose an entire pillow? It’s not some tchotchke like ornament, it was an entire fecking pillow. The scenario had me questioning my sanity.  What if someone had broken into my flat and was testing me like some mild vers...

Me and the arty shot I recently went on an incredible trip across the beautiful country Italy. Expect a boastful blog post soon regarding my spiritual awakening and personal growth and experience as I travel from city to city like a real life Eat Pray Love. Or the old school movie where Sabrina went to Rome. Anybody?  To be honest it was a fantastic holiday and I felt truly comfortable in the cities I visited alone, almost more so then when I had company. Shade at Niamh who I met up with in Rome.  Before I could get truly comfortable and start to develop any high brow thoughts about how cultured and grown I was, the world has its own little ways of putting me back in my place. That’s right, at my most self satisfied moments Italy truly put me back in my place. In two different scenarios in particular. Salty bitch. My first day in Venice, was inspiring. The city with its intrinsic canal system connecting the tiny islands combined with the beautiful arched b...

For everyone who knows me, I am literally my hair. Yes I did just quote Lady Gaga, which is incredibly homosexual of me, but then again I am  one so I think I can do so. Anyway; my hair, is very important to me. Why? Who knows. But it always has been. From the early teenage years where by I piled wet look gel into my blonde tresses making me look like a poor infantile version of every late 90’s boy band members. The cows lick was my best friend. I have sampled all the hair styles, but in recent years I have found a style that suits my face and style. Long on top, short on sides.  Yes predictably its the same long quiff look that most lads my age are sporting these days.   Every now and then I forget myself. Inspired by some fashion article, Instagram post - person in the street, I think wow maybe I should cut my hair up into that style.  I could pull that off.  Recently I had delusions of grandeur, I ended up with a top knot and a moustache for ...

Have you ever been to a social gathering where by you only had a loose connection to the person hosting it? This being all the more obviously by the fact you are standing out like a twink at a bear club? For the most part, you will at some points in your life, have to suffer casual drinks, birthday parties, going away parties, weddings and shows under the guise of a favour you owe a friend.   ‘Can you please come to Mary’s drinks on Friday night? It is on   out in Hackney    in the cutest little gin bar’ all the while you sense the under tone of   ‘you owe me bitch, remember that art exhibit in Peckham when the venue smelled like rotten cheese?’. She doesn’t say this, but its all in the eyes. So of course, you say ‘Okay, as long as we go central afterwards together’.   What you are really thinking is, Does Mary even live near Hackney? Doesn’t she live by Holloway? The other side of London, she’s only having the drinks there as the boy she fancie...