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A Poem A Day 3

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Dribbles of concern

I was wandering around after work (read: walking home), musing on suitable subjects about which to blog and avoiding students on bicycles and cars intent on killing something, anything, at crossings and junctions, when I was distracted by the thought that I had never shaved every day ever. New job, new skin care regime I had reasonably assumed before starting - along with new Gap jumpers, Gap corduroys, Gap shirts (and you know what? I strongly dislike Gap. Go figure) and an errant H&M pullover - and had stuck to it for the full week without so much as thinking about not shaving. But now I was. . I'm not sure why shaving has become such a standard requirement for suitably dressed men past the age of university slackerdom. I regularly enjoyed 3 weeks worth of fluff up until the age of 32, even once the lovingly groomed ponytail had been ceased to be a feature of my daily routine, having been hacked orf during a moment of drunken clarity one drizzly Tuesday afternoon, aro...
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There's a bit missing...

Ah, memories, how fleeting etc

Cleaning up the old FB inbox, I came across a message (see below) from a chum who reminded me how indifferent the Universe can be to the trials of mere mortals.   Firstly, my name isn't Chris (although Mark may have been protecting my identity - no need old bean!) and secondly, I'm not sure The Hayes Island Snack Bar sells pies... Still, on the first point, Ninjah (residents of Cardiff will know exactly which 7 foot bin-thumping rap star I'm talking about) called me Nick for ten years, and the lovely Lisa from Jazzy Jackets in the market insisted my name was Matt. When set straight they were respectively mystifyingly unperturbed (Ninjah didn't care - he preferred Nick to Gareth), and embarrassingly forgetful (I became instead "Maaaaa - shit! - Gar!")   Anyway, I have no idea about how genuine this extract courtesy of Mark Thomas may be, but it warms my cockles nonetheless. Enjoy.   13 November 2008     Mark Thomas can't remember things the way they happene...
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There's a bit missing...

Rage, rage against the piling up of shite.

It’s Local Election Day in Cardiff, and on my way out with the dog, I am greeted by the smiling faces of the Liberal Democrats’ Plasnewydd Focus Team. I had naively believed that I might go one day without being harassed by the Liberal Democrats, but obviously today was not going to be that day. Nonetheless, it was the final straw for me and my paper-thin patience. A little history, and some contemporaneous comment, would be useful right about now I think. The Lib Dems have led the council in Cardiff since 2004. My sources in the Welsh Conservative Party have indicated that they are about to take a complete pasting in today’s local election, with Labour way out in front, likely to come close to the 50 members they had back in 1999. In my opinion, this is a justified spanking. And yet I am unable to justify this on a political level. According to some of the bombastic nonsense that comes through my door unbidden every single day of the week and often on weekends too, ...
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There's a bit missing...