Last year, just before New Years Eve, I wrote a blog post called How To Grab 2017 By The Balls which talked about getting the best out of the new year by STOPPING DRINKING and STARTING RUNNING. This year, based on my experiences over 2017, my flaky advice for making 2018 your bitch is as follows:
This will be my 3rd sober Xmas, which seems bonkers when I think about it. Time flies eh?
I was going to do the usual ‘how to survive Xmas without booze’ type of blog post today, but then I thought NAH. There are already a ton of those floating about on the Googles. Plus, the one I wrote last year still seems fully relevant. Read it HERE.
I’ve got a half-marathon coming up in a couple of weeks, my third ‘official’ half marathon where you get a medal and a t-shirt and a bag of wanky snacks at the end. It means I’ve had to put a bit of effort in to training but it’s no biggie these days. Whether it’s pissing down, or blowing a gale, I’ll be out there. 10 kilometers, three times a week, forever and ever and ever until I DIE. Continue reading
Before moving to Milton Keynes I spent around 5 years working in Manchester city centre, which – despite the long travelling times – I really enjoyed. It was the buzz of the whole place which I liked to get caught up in, and even my daily walk down Whitworth Street from Piccadilly Train Station felt like a stroll through the centre of the universe. I still think Manchester pips London as my favourite UK city, and we even went back up there for our joint stag/hen do earlier this year. Continue reading
A few years ago – quite a lot of years ago in fact – I carried out a spate of petrol station robberies.
Picture the scene: It’s night-time, lashing with rain, and a twenty-something lad sits in his car on a petrol station forecourt. He whispers to himself as he intently watches the customers come and go. “One out. Two in. One in. One out. Two out”. He sucks on a Marlboro to help him concentrate as he counts. He has intensely blue eyes, which flicker left and right as he closely observes the scene through the drenched windscreen, his focus interrupted every few seconds by the wipers as they squeal back and forth. He has short scruffy stubble, and the jawline of an Adonis. His phone rings and he flips it open with one hand, cooly bringing it to his ear.
To keep me on the straight-and-narrow, especially in my first year of sobriety, I did a LOT of reading. Books, blogs, news articles… anything that would help me better understand alcoholism and the ways to win the battle. I often got in touch with the authors to say thanks for the inspiration or whatever, and it’s through that act of connecting with other people that I realised the importance of sharing and support in tackling booze issues. This is also what spurred me on to start writing, which is why I created SoberPunks, and it’s in the spirit of connecting with other people, with booze addiction as common ground, that I ended up chatting online to Dylan Kerr. Continue reading
Okay, that was probably an irresponsible choice of title for the blog. I’m just trying to reel readers in with SHOCK and sensationalism. I’d sell my granny for 1000 page clicks (nb: she’s dead).
Actually, bad as it sounds, I think once upon a time I did quite enjoy drink driving. It’s not something I’m proud of. One particular incident stands out for me, waaaay back around Y2K (I’m so TREND that it hurts). I was at a party in Dewsbury, fully intending to sleep over at the hosts gaff, when a huge venomous argument erupted. I was over half a bottle of vodka into my night already, and so I don’t even remember what we argued about, but it ended with me throwing my toys out of the pram and marching out towards my little red Fiesta, 70cl Smirnoff bottle still in-hand. I slammed on my Pantera cassette (Vulgar Display Of Power for you rock fans), and squealed off into the night.
In order to keep things spicy and exciting at SoberPunks, I’m going to be writing all future blogs from seedy hotel rooms whilst wearing cheap slutty lingerie.
Not really. I’m going to be interviewing interesting characters in the world of sobriety, or at least people with something to say about it, and publishing the interviews here for you set of bastards. Continue reading
When you stop drinking there’s a worry that your life will lose it’s danger and excitement. I was gunna say it’s a misconception, but on reflection it’s really not. It’s fucking true – at least to some degree. The thing is though, right, that danger and excitement isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes the danger you get yourself into when you’re drunk is BAD, for example this stupid stunt I pulled on a boat across to Amsterdam.
I got married a couple of weeks ago. It was a bit of a DIY affair – we had a clear idea of how we wanted the day to pan out, and so that meant a bit more stress and worry than maybe your usual wedding, but that’s cool. Everything went to plan and within 3 days of saying ‘I do’ we were laying in the sun, poolside, on a little island about 400km off the coast of Africa. Everything was lovely, except for the stinking colds we both developed in the wedding day aftermath.
SoberPunks 