OK folks, fair warning - this post has been simmering in my brain for a few weeks now, and I've had to write it in stages because, frankly, the subject matter pisses me off.

A little while ago, I was asked a question that I really struggled to answer. Usually, any question thrown in my general direction is answered pretty quickly - either with the direct answer, a non-committal answer, or a grunt of manly acknowledgement.

This one, however, had me stumped.

"What subject do you care truly passionate about?"

Now, I take passionate to mean something that really gets you going, gets you up onto your soap box ranting and raving, that causes emotion to truly flare.

But I couldn't think of anything. Like, nothing would come to my mind.

I care about gaming, and I get pissed off when news reports directly or indirectly blame gaming/games/gamers as the cause for violence in the world.

I care about the welfare of my kids, and I get pissed off when I feel they are being treated badly by someone.

I care about my friends, and I get pissed off when my friends need help with something, but I am not in a position to assist them..

And so I went with the "I will think about it" answer - a cop-out, yes I know - and after twenty seconds, I promptly forgot about it.

A few days after that, a series of events unfolded in three different, completely separate ways. Two different, unrelated, non-communicative friends were having issues at home and talking to me about it. The third was a stranger and his partner/girlfriend/wife walking past me in the street.

The "man" was screaming at the woman. Properly full-on screaming at her, effing and blinding and calling her all sorts of harsh names. All because she had left some papers at home that he needed to copy.

The names he was throwing at he, the venomous bile-filled words pissed me off. Coupled with friends struggling in their own relationships - no actual physical violence (not yet) - it hit me with a flash what it is that I feel passionate about...


Yes, I used the word hate. And I am sticking with that word.

Now, some of you already know this much, and some of you probably guessed or suspected (because I can be an arse), but most of my school life was filled with bullies. One boy made my life especially miserable, and even today I still remember the things he did to me, the things he had others say to me...

Adults in my life too were bullies, mostly of a mental variety, but some... not so much. Even as I've grown and become an adult, I've seen people abuse others both physically and mentally, and every time, it makes me properly angry.

Now, my friends that are going through this at the moment - and I stress, there is no physical violence, just psychological abuse and mind games - will not be named or given pseudonyms or anything like that.

What is it that drives people to become such bastards? I cannot understand it. you and I, dear reader, are normal, average people.. We deal with things differently, we argue or lose our tempers or whatever, then the mood blows over, and that is that. Other people seem to take pleasure in tormenting and controlling the people in their lives.

What gives anyone the right to tell someone that they are fat, or ugly, or need to change their appearance in some way... What sort of person controls the money in a relationship to the point you have to ask for it? What sort of person uses sex and intimacy as a weapon or means of control in a spiteful manner - I am NOT talking about 50 Shades or people that are into various kinks. Whatever works between two consenting & understanding adults of the right age is cool in my book! What sort of other half installs cameras in the house - not for security purposes, but openly admits to watch the person when she is at home to ensure she is doing her jobs and not entertaining someone. What sort of person cuts off all your ties with your friends and denies you the right to see or speak with them, all for no good reason? What sort of person is full of charm, politeness and light when out in public - playing Happy Families - and then, behind closed doors, revert back to their abusive, controlling asshat-self. What sort of person installs tracking & logging software on the phones or tablets so they know where they are, the speeds they are moving at, what messages or mails or comments are being sent and received.

A COWARD, that's who.

ANY man that treats his wife like an object, that makes her walk behind him, that watches her conversations with others, that talks to her like she is a pile of crap - you sir, are a coward and pathetic waste of air.

You partner should be loved and cherished. It is as simple as that. Regardless of her new haircut, you tell her she looks gorgeous no matter what. Regardless of you not buying her that new dress because you don't like it, you buy it because it makes her happy. If your other half has the only vice of playing online games on her laptop, don't disable the internet so she can't go onlne - buy her limited currency in the game.

It is not often that I get properly angry. I don't do anger very often - mainly, for all the reasons above but in regards to physical violence - but when I do, I get angry. I am not a physical-confrontational type of person, but there are a few people around the world that I would love to pay a visit, and stomp hard on your balls, one at a time. You don't deserve to be considered a man if you think she's a whore because she bought new underwear - because she needed new underwear...

Honestly, this post is taking me days to write, as I have to keep stopping.

I wish to the highest heavens that those affected by such things can find and get help to get themselves and their children away from an abusive, toxic relationship. You might think "I'm OK, I can handle it" but if this is your life, you shouldn't HAVE to handle with it.

Look at it this way - if your child, married and living with her husband - came home to you one day and told you this was their life, what would you do? Would you tolerate such a life for her? Would you accept the mental abuse because she says she can handle it?

Of course you wouldn't.

If this is you, then get help. Ask help from friends, call your local police, ask them for help or guidance or assistance. There are various womens refuge or help charities help you get out from such an awful life...

And please please remember, just because you might think "It's OK that I am treated this way, at least he hasn't hit me" bear in mind that people like this can escalate. What starts as a new law being laid down in the house can become an argument, then a fight, then an injury. Any man... ANY MAN... that thinks striking a woman is a macho, cool thing to do, think again.

It makes them the biggest pussy there is. Big man, starting fights with your already-terrified wife..

It seems to be getting more and more commonplace too... So often I will see a man accusing his other half of being a waste of space or similar. Too often I will be talking to friends online, and find out over time what their home life is really like. More and more people seem to think that as there is no physical violence involved, that it's acceptable.

It isn't. Not even a little bit. If you are making your partner feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, undesired, scared to do anything or go anywhere, use or withhold sex as a weapon, think you can treat them like a piece of sh!t, you are very much mistaken.

And I hope for the love of everything peaceful, that the shit you do catches up with you. That your actions drive your partner into the arms of another person... A person that will treat them right, with respect, care and devotion... If she wants to go out to a pub or club with her friends, you don't "allow" it or "let" her, you tell her to have a great time and to be safe. No curfew, no rules, no ultimatum. A man that will love every inch of her skin regardless of it being bony or jiggly. That when she says she needs something, you don't give her a set amount of money - you give her your credit card and take her to whatever stores she wants to go into.

No one should deal with this. No one should put up with it. It is wrong.

If you are trapped in such a relationship, please, do everything you can to get out. Don't accept it as the norm - there is a perfect someone out there for you somewhere - don't even put up with it or just take it as life... TALK to someone. TELL them what is going on. ASK for help - no matter how proud you might be, that help might be nothing more than a helpful word or useful advice. Your friends - your real friends - will be the ones that stick by no matter what, won't drop you for whatever self-perceived slight they think has been committed against them. When you are stuck in such a destructive relationship, your words - even mundane stuff talking about the weather - will act like a beacon of hope for the victim.

And you ARE a victim.

If you know or even suspect someone is in this sort of relationship - and PLEASE remember, it can happen to men too - all I ask is that you extend your hand to that person. Be a real, true friend to them. Make them see the world is not like it is behind their closed doors, and that you can be the person they trust to make them feel better and to trust.

If there are children involved - and, invariably, there usually are - then you owe it to THEM to get them free of such a life. One of my friends has a couple of sproglets from a previous marriage, and while the little girl is too young, the little boy IS old enough to see... And for some reason, also becomes a target of the hatred and vile sh!t the arsehole spews forth. Punished for the most minor of reasons. Treated like a little Prince one minute, then like a demon child the next...

If you have children, you need to get away, before the behaviour of one "adult" becomes learnt and considered acceptable by the wee one.

I like to think I am approachable. I like to think I am helpful. If you need help, if you want someone just to talk to, then by all means, consider this my extended hand. I cannot say for sure that I can help you. I cannot say for sure that I can fix anything for you. But I can say I will talk to you, give you advice, and listen to you if that is what you need.

No one on this earth deserves to be treated like an indentured slave. No one on this earth deserves to be treated like an unfaithful dog. No one of this earth deserves to be spoken to like a naughty six year old.

No one. Not ever.

The next time someone asks me what it is I am passionate about, I won't pause nor will I hesitate.

I am passionate about psychological and physical abuse that is used so prevalently in this day and age...

And it has to stop.

(Post-Script: I have sent this to those mentioned in this blog post before I hit the publish button... The fact you are reading it means I have their permission to let the world see it. I don't want people to think I am writing about things confided in me in secret. I have their permission, and their identities are well and truly covered)

When Tiredness Strikes

To say the last few weeks have been absolute f$cking sh!t a bit hectic is putting it mildly...

The details aren't all that gritty - first off, I've been running around like a blue-arsed fly most days just doing "stuff" - housework, kids stuff, cooking, cleaning and so on. On top of all that, I had my second Pain Management appointment where I actually got to see someone trying to help me...

Their plan seems a little arse-about-face if I am honest, but I can see their reasoning. One of my meds, the Pregabalin, is - in my opinion - doing sweet F.A, but in case it IS working, I am not allowed to just stop and change meds.

So to get me in less pain, we're starting by... reducing my meds... Marvellous.

Yes, I get why they can't just stop them (pesky stroke and risk of death and all that) but it isn't any fun for me as I am still in pain 24/7, am still sleeping very very little, and still a moody bastard that everyone hates.

On top of that.

Kellie decided to have one of her Heart-Attacks-That-Isn't-A-Heart-Attack sessions... The day before the Main Event, she was at work and went very wonky. Chest Pains, Left Arm Pain, crushing feeling on the upper body, going a lovely shade of Corpse Grey... Everyone in the office had a flap, plus she got a telling off for not having her GTN spray handy. But, at her insistence, she was fine and that was that, and gradually the pain went away.

Following a bad night, and feeling much much worse the following morning, she did it again. I don't know, maybe as I missed the events at work, she thought she would give me an action reply. Chest pains. Crushing feeling. Left arm pains. Grey ashen colour.

BUT she didn't want a lot of fuss - we've been told many times that it's not a heart attack (despite telling THEM we know it's not a heart attack, on account of her not being dead and all) so instead of dialling 999 and getting an Ambulance out, we opted for the NHS Helpline on 111.

As soon as the woman answered, I explained that we know that despite how it sounds, her symptoms are not her having a heart attack. OK she says. So I go through all of the above, tell her it's happened before, that we know it's not a heart attack, and that we just want a little advice or help or something.

Five minutes later, Mr Solo Paramedic turned up at the door. Oops. You could see neighbours having a nosey through their windows, but I let him in, explaining to him that it's not a heart attack, but here are all the symptoms. He wired her up to the ECG machine and Blood Pressure thingie, clipped on the glowy red finger clip of doom, and sat talking to her.

Funny thing is, she couldn't talk properly as her chest was crushing so she couldn't get her words out and breath very well at the same time. So she sounded like a breathy old lady having a heart attack.

Work with me here love, I'm trying to tell people you're NOT having a heart attack, don't act like you actually ARE.

Her blood pressure was quite high, her ECG was a bit wonky, and her sats were 86-89%.

Mr Paramedic radioed for backup.

Three minutes later, MUCH to my amusement and Kellies annoyance, a biiiig yellow ambulance pulled up behind the flashy-light paramedic car. Out jumped two lady paramedics, AND a trainee fellow, all with lots of kit in tow, and they came into the house under the watchful eye of the neighbours.

The old girl next door popped out, quite worried something bad was happening, so I had to talk to her and calm her down before she needed their help too - she's got a dodgy ticker as well.

With Kellie, three paramedics, me and the two cats wandering around, the downstairs was a weeny bit crowded. Kerry turned up for good measure as well as she was worried too, and Kellie... Well, she wasn't impressed. She felt like shit, and was receiving LOTS of attention.

The four medical people had a conflab, and it was decided that Kellie really really should go to hospital. They had given her GTN and Aspirin (like they do with heart attack and stroke victims) and that eased her symptoms (like it does with heart attack and stroke victims) but told her she really should be checked out.

However, she wasn't allowed to walk out to the ambulance. No, she had to be strapped into one of the special chairs for patients.

And wheeled out on display for all the neighbours to see. Kerry watched too.

Once in the ambulance, we had to sit for a little while so they could be sure she was safe to transport, that her symptoms were a little better, that her ECG wasn't wonky, and her Blood Pressure and Sats were improved.

All were a little better - sats were back into the low 90s, ECG was clear and BP was more normal. And off to A&E they took us. Checking her the whole way, monitoring her so she didn't die and so on.

Once in A&E it was the usual... Sit and wait for a doctor. Go get an Xray. Have a blood test. They also put a cannula in the back of her hand juuuust in case they needed to get quick access for drugs.

Yes, just like people having a heart attack/stroke.

We were in there for hours while she was checked, questioned, prodded, poked and bombarded with Xrays.

The only superpower she developed, however, was "pissed off with being checked, questioned, prodded, poked and bombarded with Xrays" And at no point when she was hooked up to everything and needing a wee, did I turn on the tap and leave the room.

After ALL that, she was given the verdict of "Well, we're happy to say it wasn't a heart attack..."

Er, yes, thank you for that Dr Obvious. "All we can suggest you do is just advise your consultant what's happened, keep your appointments for your Stress Test and Pulmonary Function Test, and go from there"

So once again, no answers, no help, nothing... No, I know, it's not their fault, they can only go by the symptoms - but it would be nice if they could be some help and try working out why this shit has been going on for five years now.

If any of you armchair doctors - no, NOT Dr Google - can explain to me why she gets all the symptoms of a Cardiac Arrest, without the actual Cardiac Arrest, the please let me know so I can go to the doctor, specialist, consultant or whatever and say "What about THIS" instead of feeling like they just throw random diagnosis out and then a few months later, they say "LOL, no, not that"

Anyway... Kellie ended up having the rest of the week off work (They didn't want her there!) and chilling over the weekend.

Which was lucky really as by the time Monday came back around, it was Dom's turn for stuff - even though this was pre-planned shenanigans.

Last year, Dom - being a spaz - hurt his leg playing football. I say hurt, it was a knee dislocation. Lots of pain and crutches and so on. He was checked, told to rest it. A few weeks after that, he did it again because, you know... Spaz.

This went on for a year or so with random dislocations of the left knee, an MRI was done, but nothing mentioned about it, doctors passed it on from GP to fracture to Xray to MRI to Orthopaedics... Eventually - almost a year to the day of its original dislocation - we got to see a knee specialist.

We were in there for a little while, and the only real option was knee surgery to reconstruct the broken ligament... Er.. Broken Ligament?

The MRI from eight months previous showed that Dom had managed to sever - not tear, but completely sever - the ligament that holds the knee cap in place, and also that prevents the joint dislocating at random intervals.

So surgery was booked in - but for AFTER all his exams.

Monday was the pre-op, and with that being all clear, the surgery was done on Tuesday morning. Now, I am not going to go into me vs. hospitals here. Dom, however, held up like a champ, only getting properly nervous when he was being wheeled into the theatre.

Kellie went in with him and was looking after him while he was knocked out, and after that, we had to go somewhere to do something to pass the time - so opted for the restaurant, drank coffee and ate cake, had a wander around, watched the world fall apart via the news on TV...

He was down in theatre for almost two hours - the surgery took just over an hour - and he was wheeled back in from recovery very whoozy and away with the fairies thanks to copious amounts of drugs. Apparently he was in a lot of pain when he came out of the anaesthetic, so they popped him with some morphine for good measure.

The rest of the day he was spent sitting at his bedside, chatting with him when he was awake, chatting to the nurses when he was asleep, reading, playing on the DS or Tablet... Just passing the time - which is a completely different time inside a hospital. Hospital Time is a strange phenomenon, and some of you will understand exactly what I mean!

Because Molly came up from school and sat with us for a while, we decided I'd take her home to get her fed, watered and into bed, while Kellie stayed at the hospital to spend time with Dom.

Within half an hour of me leaving, things took a bastardly but thankfully brief turn for the worst - all the drugs, the anaesthetic, the antibiotics, the three kinds of pain killers - decided to combine into a concoction that made Doms heart rate go through the roof, and to feel as though his lips, mouth and throat were swelling. Luckily, there was no swelling, but physiologically, he was affected, and his ECG, Blood Pressure, Sats and everything else went completely screwy for an hour. Luckily, Doms surgeon was on the ward, arrived and took control very quickly in a manner that kept Kellie somewhat calm...

After all that, Dom went to sleep and was fine for the rest of the night. Kellie got home and was a nervous wreck, and I feel shitty that I wasn't there when things went pear-shaped... BUT he was - and still is - fine. So no harm done.

The following day, Dom was hurting, tired but otherwise OK, and by lunchtime, the wheels were in motion for discharge. He met his physiotherapists, and started doing his various exercises - painful but necessary. His leg has some bolts of some kind in it, holding his new synthetic ligaments in place. The road is going to be a long one, apparently, with lots of physio and rehab for his leg - even now, it's taken him a week post-surgery just to lift his leg.

The wound itself is pretty... Disappointing... He has two, actually, both covered with a dressing the size of a large-ish plaster.

These two pictures show the site of the surgery. The arrow on his shin was done PRE surgery so they remember which leg to poke holes in, and what leg to NOT cut off. The blue lines are anatomical, showing the kneecap, femur, tibia/fibula (spell check update - the bones are Tibia and Fibula. There is no such thing as a Fibia. Apparently, it's an amalgamation of Fibular/Tibia, and MAY refer to the lower-half of the leg, but it not a recognised word. Thank you Spell Check & Google), and where there are and should be ligaments. Probably showing the team what needed to be done...

The next picture is when Diane - the 0dd Mother in Law - came to visit the other night. Dom, who is living on the sofa at the moment, is playing through the new Tomb Raider game. Nanny wanted a go... So Nanny sat trying to control Lara through bad-guy-infested areas involving cliff edges, gravity, rocks and dying. A lot.

I snapped this picture just after she fell to her death again, and Dom is giggling like a school girl... The look on the old girls face is one she shoots me a lot... Sort of.. Dragonish...

So, all in all, the last two weeks have been shitty. I've not really had anyone I can talk to, so been sitting and dwelling and worrying and thinking and OVER thinking and so on... Hence the blog post - I needed to get it all out and deflate. It's helped a bit, but... I don't know.

No, I am not going to go into me or my issues (pain clinic notwithstanding) and am just trying to get on with everything.

Kellie is better - still getting chest twinges - and she's trying to get hold of her consultants secretary to bring her next appointment forward... Dom is slowly on the mend - still on the sofa, still making funny groany noises when he moves, still getting lots and lots of care and sympathy from me... *ahem*...

Other than that, there have been Parent/Teacher meetings for Jaysen & Molly (both very bright, both very smart, both prone to chatter, both could push themselves harder, etc etc). Tam is doing very well too, reading at a higher-than-normal average, but still trying to play the whiny little girl card when she doesn't get her way...

Life is ticking over with what feels like extremely regular speed bumps, but I'm doing my best to push through it and just carry on... I think I need a break from everything to stop it getting on top of me.

Oh, snail...

I feel like I've been doing this post all day - thanks to Dom (aka, Spaz) needing guiding in Tomb Raider... Anyway, this morning while watering the house-plants, it became obvious to Dom and Myself that I am waaaay over-tired, and waaaay in need of getting out more.

The watering can - which was kept in the garden - had a snail on it. A fact I only realised while halfway through the watering. He was sliding around the outside of the can, drawing little trails as he meandered in circles.

And I was talking to him. Chatting away, apparently. Asking him questions... Dom thought I was definitely strange at this point. By the time I was done and put him back in the garden, "the snail" and become Mr Escargot. Yes, I named the snail. And made sure he was released somewhere cool, damp and shaded.

When I came back upstairs, I was talking with Dom... Considering how weird a snail looks - with his eyes on sodding great stalks, those two strange feeler-stalks, bloody great shell on his back, sliming everywhere - what must WE look like to them?

And then I went on to mime a snail, doing a human impression. Dom laughed till he nearly pissed his pants. Me, a human, pretending to be a snail, pretending to be a human.

I'm either very tired, something has snapped in my head, or I need medical attention.


Stalky Stalky

The last few days have been pretty crappy, and for the most part, I've been keeping to myself, sulking in my corner, virtually trying to wish the pain away.

Of course, it didn't work.

When I'm in my own little world, I come up with all these different blog post ideas. However, where I don't want to do anything except hack off the offending body parts, blog post ideas either disappear into that great grey expanse that is my forgetful mind, or, on reflection, I decide that if I post about this subject or if I go on about that issue then I am likely to just piss people off.

I kid yea not.

So instead, I opted to answer a question that has strangely popped up three times over the weekend. Usually in the form of "Blimey, how many messaging apps do you use?!" or something similar.

The trouble is, I like to chat to people, especially when tired, insomnic (not a word, but you get the idea), bored or just generally natter away. But yes, I still hate actually talking on the phone. And because I talk to different people, different people use different apps. Or one of the kids say "Oh this is good app to use!" or I get invited into a beta and kind of just stay with it...

In order to put the subject at rest, I figured I would just list them all out here for all to see. If you use one (or more!) of these apps, then feel free to add, invite, share - whatever. I have them installed on my mobile and my tablet, so usually reply pretty much where ever I am at the time.

Especially when I am bored.

So, here is the list - and because I am EXTRA nice and helpful (stop laughing) I've added a link for these apps for you to download - obviously, if you're on an Android device, use Google Play. If you're on an Eye-something, then App Store is for you. If you're not sure, then I've added the apps direct website. Because I am so extra nice and helpful.

Facebook Messenger
I have the Messenger app installed, and it would appear you don't even need to be on my friends list in order to message me, so that's nifty. You just need to know me through Facebook - which can be found by clicking This Link.
(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

I've used WhatsApp for aaaages - it's a proper nifty app for messaging, and I would argue that it's the best chatty-talky-messenger-type-app. Download, install, and it sees which of your contacts uses it and adds them - which means you will need my mobile number stored in your phone. Just ask and I will share it - alternatively, it's on my Facebook About Me page.
(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

I have no idea why I have a Google+ page, I never think of it, and check in on it only very occasionally, but it's there ready for when Facebook goes all... MySpace-esque. OK, I know, wishful thinking.. I've never used Hangouts, but still, it's there, linked to my Google+, Mobile Number and Email Address; 0ddness.bl0g@gmail.com(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

Another app I only use very rarely, but I DO have it and it's on... I only ever used it to speak to one person, but never got around to uninstalling it. Still, I have it - if you want to add me, my BBM Pin is 7B75E2FE
(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

Now, I used to use MSN a LOT... My contacts list was silly sometimes, and I would have multiple windows open with multiple contacts. From what I gather, Microsoft bought Skype, and merged Messenger with it. So now I have Skype. I think. So, if you want to add me, my Skype name is oddness.blog and my MSN account dan.english@live.co.uk
(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

Another one I use very rarely - mainly to see what my very small friend list shares when they are equally bored. I think there's a chat function on there now too, but regardless, I have it and load it when I remember to check! My username on there is essexdan101
(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

OK, technically NOT chat software, but it does have the chat function - plus I USE this one when bored and taking pictures. Feel free to add me on there, which is the username 0dd1 (zero-Dee-Dee-one)
(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

I use Twitter on and off, but mainly off as I don't know that many people that I chat to. I lose the plot, lose track and forget to reply. But again, it is a chat-type-app, even if you are limited to 140 characters, so on there my username is - like Instagram - 0dd1 (zero-Dee-Dee-one)
(Google Play / App Store / Webpage)

Now, I am fully aware that there are many other chat programs out there - Viber, Yahoo, WeChat and so on - but these ones listed are the ones I have installed, and use. If half a dozen of you turn around and say "We're on this app" then maybe I will give it a whirl.

So there you have it - a complete list of ways to get my attention and alleviate my boredom. Or yours. And remember - if I don't reply, I am probably asleep!

Time Out

Dear 0ddness, it has been many many weeks since I wrote on you properly, and for that I deeply apologise. I don't know if people still check in here to see if I have actually done anything, and I don't know if people still blog anymore... Surely Facebook hasn't killed blogging?

But I digress. And, I apologise. I apologise for being away and neglecting my pages, and I apologise because this is going to be a rant. My time away from 0ddness was partly self-imposed, and partly because.. Well.. People were complaining. Complaining about 0ddness, complaining about my Facebook, and complaining about my Twitter.

When I say complaining, it wasn't a "Dear Author, this content is..." comment or anything like that, but people were making snide shitty comments. "You're always moaning on your blog" or "Why do you always have to complain about your medical stuff" or even "That picture/link/song you wrote about sucked..."

After a while, all these comments got to me. I stopped using Twitter first - people hardly talked to me on there anyway, most of the content was just people retweeting someone elses content - which in turn was from someone else, or it was just boring. Some people you would mention or Tweet didn't even acknowledge you... Especially some attention-whoring celebrities. Why have a Twitter account and ignore everyone? And trying to have a conversation on there... I mean, 140 characters? I think anyone that gets a text from me knows I don't abbreviate, I don't take short cuts, and I don't do acronyms. So the 140 character thing got to me - especially trying to chat to someone.

Then it was the blog that took the next hit. Yes, I complained on here. Yes, my medical stuff was a common subject... But if people were complaining, I just couldn't be arsed to carry on. Not even a little bit.

Then came Facebook. People moaning I shared too many pictures. I updated my status too often. The stuff I shared was sexist or rude. I used bad words and people complained that their little ones saw it. So I only update my status once or twice a day at most. I share things that make me chuckle still, but I gloss over a lot of other things.

And then, this week, I had a shot of insight.

Who do you think you are to moan about my Twitter, or my Facebook, or worst of all, my Blog. It occurs to me that if you don't like the stuff on my pages, then YOU have to either block me, unfriend me, unfollow me or at worst - IGNORE me. I don't have a blog for your entertainment. I use 0ddness as my outlet. I use it to vent the stupid thoughts that I have running around my head. I use it to talk about how I feel physically, which parts of my body are screwing around and when. I use it to clear my head and try to avoid getting down and miserable - fighting depression is a hard battle, and 0ddness has always been my main therapist.

Sure, sometimes the stuff on here is mundane at best, but I do not make you read it. I do not tell you to read it or else. If you don't like it, I would much rather - instead of moaning at me (Ironically, about me moaning...) that you just went on your merry way.

As for my Facebook... If my status has a swearword in it, and you don't want 6 year old junior to see it... Er... Get 6 year old junior off of Facebook. It's a swear word - you might not use them, but I do. I always have done. Block me, or hide my updates if you don't want to see it. As for the pictures I post... It might be something funny, it might be a woman in a sexy dress, it might be something geeky, it might be something gross. There are plenty of tools on Facebook to hide me. And honestly, if you can't stand all the things I share, which show my sense of humour, or the mood I am, or what is on my mind - or anything else - that is part of me...

So why are you friends with me?

On both here and Facebook, if I find something interesting, or something that I think some of you will enjoy - even if it's only one other person that might like it - then I will hit share. If you don't like it, I am sorry, but I am not doing it for you. There are PLENTY of people on Facebook that share the same shit all the time, and then mutual friends share it over and over... There are so many things I don't like people posting, but you know what - I don't care. I scroll past, I don't bitch at them for sharing something I don't like... If everyone told everyone to not post things they don't like, Facebook would be a ghost town.

So, hopefully, from today, I will not be posting on here or Facebook or even Twitter to entertain you. I am here for myself. 0ddness has been around for MANY years, and has always been my outlet for ranting and venting and putting into words things that I struggle to vocalise. I am not a trained chimp here to please you, entertain you, or to only like things that are "normal".. I am who I am, and I like what I like.

If you can't accept that, then the problem is not with me. It's you.

Musical Monday #160 - Demons

Another Musical Monday (following a busy weekend) that I have to thank Spotify for... Another song I'd never heard of or considered listening to were it not for me being indecisive and clicking the "Meh, whatever..." button of random music!

I linked the album on Facebook the other day after I found them, and a few other people replied with "Oooh I love that album" so I know for once it isn't just my brain telling me a song is good when, in fact, it sucks monkey arse.

And I believe it's Sweary-Wordy Free, so everyone can listen, even those of a nervous disposition!

Imagine Dragons - Demons

Passing Time #37

Musical Monday #159 - Sail

Yes yes, it's been ages, bad Dan for not posting on his blog. I won't go into the sob story about feeling like shit or anything.

However, I DO  have a new install or two on my computer, the first being good news for my Musical Monday posts! Quite how I never used it before I'm not sure, but Spotify - being free and all - is some sort of... just.. wow...Two brief adverts every four or five songs? Oh, alright then!

Thanks to it getting used to the shit music I enjoy, it is starting to make suggestions for me... A "You liked that, you might like this!" sort of deal. Once again, I am listening to artists and albums I've never heard of, liking some, not liking others... And I came across a group/band/artist called AwolNation. Their album Megalithic Symphony is on Spotify, and it has quite a few very good tracks on it. But this is my favorite of them all...

AwolNation - Sail

Musical Monday #158 - Call Me A Hole

If there is one style of music that always impresses - regardless of liking the music itself - it's when someone creates a Mash-Up of two songs.

Now, I am not talking about when a DJ flicks his wrists and makes one bit of music play with some phat-bass pounding in the background. I am talking taking the music from one song - minus vocals - and mixing it to the vocals - minus music - of a totally different track.

It's something I've liked for several years, and while I know it's been going on for a while, the advent of this fangled Intarwebz thing has made it easier to listen to such music.

I've been playing Eve Online for entertainment of late. It's been the only game to hold my attention (as you may recall, I was having some serious gaming issues) but thanks to Kevin - Kellies best friend Kerrys brother Kevin (konfusing...) I'm now playing with a group of like-minded sorts that is making life enjoyable once more.

But I digress from the tangent.

Eve has a very popular radio station associated with it, with the catchy name of Eve Radio. The Devs and the GMs join in with it too which is cool, so they socialise with the player-base. It was on here that one of the DJs played this song, and to be honest, I love it. I wasn't overly enthralled with one part of the song thanks to it being soooo overplayed in this house, and while I prefer the original of the other song, these two together just...work.

I think I might post some more Mash Up tracks over the coming Musical Mondays.. Hmm..

Anyway, for now.. Nine Inch Nails vs. Carly Rae Jepson - Call Me A Hole

Way To Stereotype

I am, in general, a very very tolerant person. I don't care what colour your skin is, I don't care who you love, I don't care who you say thank you to at bedtime, and I don't care if you talk to a spirit, power, supreme being, or an invisible goat called Jeremy.

Be nice to me, I'll be nice to you. Do what you want, don't force it on others. Live your life your way, be mindful of how others live their lives.

There are, however, still people in the world that have Stereotypes sooo far up their own bottoms it is worrying. And I don't mean The Common Person On The Street, I am talking about people that wear a shiny badge that says "I'm a politician" or "I'm in charge of a massive company" or whoever.

I WAS about to do a Musical Monday post, but decided to skim through the news, where my usual repository for face-palming at  humanity - Sky News (also known as "Wow, Let's Sex Up This Headline!") were covering the missing Malaysian Airways 777-200.

Now, I get they have to cover all bases, and I get that they are probably quite stressed out and trying to do everything they can. One of their lines of enquiry seems to be these people that managed to get onboard using stolen passports - which is a little worrying considering how tight security is supposed to be in air travel these days. While discussing this avenue of investigation, I was taken aback by one single line, a quote from Malaysia's Civil Aviation Chief caught my eye, and pretty much made me shake my head.

Now, I am sorry, but someone that is "In Charge" of anything should be somewhat less of a dick as far as I am concerned. I completely get that they have to explore the possibility of terrorism in the disappearence of this flight. I get that the "climate of the world" is somewhat tense. But it seems to me that he is dismissing that line of enquiry because the chaps using the stolen passports were not "Asian-looking"

My first thought was the chap that tried to blow up the explosives in his underwear on Christmas Day 2009 while heading into Detroit. Despite his name, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab was also "not Asian-looking" being that he came from Nigeria.

My second line of thought was "What the holy-hell does an "Asian-looking man" look like anyway!?" Asia is, as far as I remember from Geography, a fairly large place. I mean, bigger than Belgium at least.

Side note: Everything always seems to be "The Size of Belgium" when they talk about big things. Don't believe me? Click that link!


Asia is effing big. Like, BIG big, and covers 80% of the Earths land, 60% of the World population (4.3 billion people, apparently) and a bit of research tells me it ranges from Egypt, up past Turkey, Western Russian, across the top of The World, down the side of the Pacific, through the Indonesia archepegalo, and then all along the Bay of Bengal, around India into the Arabian Sea, and finally up the Red Sea, back to Egypt (via Suez).

For clarity, that is 48 different countries (and, apparently, parts and areas of Turkey & Russia sometimes count) for one somewhat-larger-than-Belgium continent. When you think how different all these people look - from the Japanese to the East, to the Turkish to the West, there is no "look" for an Asian person.

THIS is how pissed off the quote has made me - I've been researching all this for this blog post!

It is also worth noting that the aircraft was travelling from Kuala Lumpa, Malaysia to Beijing, China - both of which come under Asia - so I would imagine quite a lot of the passengers "look Asian"

But I digress. And breath.

It just really pisses me off that in this day and age where we should be less "He's Asian, must be a terrorist" and realise that any nut-job can be radicalised by any other nut-job, and be turned against the world for ANY reason. Religion is a biggie, but then there are the Land Disputes out there too that create radicalised people.


PS: If I suddenly vanish, it's because MI5 or similar security agencies found some of my Google searches for this post, and decided they were worrying enough to lock me away. Currently I can barely walk, let alone be a nut-job or a terrorist... So please remember to get me released ASAP - I don't think I'd do well in jail with my baby-soft skin ;)

Feeling Rough

You would have thought that having had a relatively busy weekend, followed today by getting up at half eight and being proper full-on busy All. Day. Long... You'd have thought sleep would come easily.

Pfft, you'd have thought...

I honestly didn't stop till about five this evening today, and I had to use all my faculties too, physical, strength, mental, dexterity, following lists and instructions, crouching low, stretching high, trying to not lop off my fingers or fall down stairs, and remembering how to type and count too..

Last night - well, most nights this last week - have been horrendous, even for my sleep patterns, and while I could have done without being quite so stupidly busy today, I thought - foolishly - that it might help me sleep.

So, early night... Nine o clock.

And here we are at half midnight already. I know what most of the issue is. My body is screaming, and my head is swimming with what feels like blancmange, and thoughts struggle to rise through it.

So here I lay, three and a half hours of trying to sleep, so I figure I'll try blogging, focus away from sleeping.

Or not sleeping, as the case is.

Thursday, I'm going back to the doctor and asking for a referral back to Pain Management. Not that I am holding much hope with them being helpful... Just like the last times (yes, plural) I've been there.
And maybe this week I'll learn to stop running around doing everything and delegating to the rest of the household to do something. I know I can't keep going on like this. I nearly fell out the shower yesterday. I almost fell down the stairs today. Twice. I nearly stuck myself with a knife AND almost lopped off a finger today too.

Not good.

Anyway, I'm going to return to the bed and staring at the ceiling now in a hope that part of my body realises it'll stop hurting if I fall asleep, and will feel better in the morning.

OK, not better... Less shit, maybe. Unless I did more than I should have done today, in which case, I'm going to suffer for the next few days.


Wish me luck.

Musical.. Er.. Day.. Number.. Erm..

"So Mr Insomniac -" ask the normal people of the world, the ones that get into bed, fall asleep for 8.37 hours, and wake up feeling refreshed "- what's it like living on 1-2 hours of broken sleep every night for weeks on end?"

The Insomniac isn't too sure how to answer this. After all, Last Remaining Alert Brain Cell (that you may recall, is a complete and utter bastard) has made the Insomniac walk to town and do shopping amid all the cranky if it wasn't for us in world war two pensioners pushing past the Insomniac, and 'disabled' people on their Obescycles blocking the aisles so they can buy chocolate...

The Last Remaining Alert Brain Cell, being a complete and utter bastard, decides to answer the question in the form of music. He vaguely recalls the day being Monday, and something associated with music happening on that day.

So here we have what it's like in the head of Mr Insomniac most days.

And f$cking nights.

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