Bad dad

Sometimes you just get it all wrong.

Now I like to think I have done an okay job so far in protecting my kids from many of the nastier things that lurke the internet.  They don’t have social media accounts, I have full access to their phones, they don’t have them in their room at night etc etc.  They know that I will occasionally check out what they have been doing and are for the most part pretty good kids to be honest.

Earlier today I stumbled upon this article going around warning parents to be aware of a new online ‘Suicide Game’ threat.  Momo.  I figured I would just make sure that they were aware of the risks and tried to assure them that all was okay whilst at the same time just cautioning them to take care.

This is the picture associated with the ‘Momo’ character.  Creepy as hell right.


My first mistake was thinking that I could wing it a little and npot have full info so instead of them taking heed they were suddenly rather curious.  Second mistake was mentioning the terrifying woman creature thing that accompanies the challenges and that wants you to kill yourself.

Oh and letting the eldest have a sneak peek to assure him that it wasn’t that scary was a really really bad idea too.  As was pretending there was something making a noise in the bathroom.  Oh and there was the small matter of the blood curdling scream and shouts of “oh god she’s got me”.  That may have also been a step too far.

Anyway he is now in bed with his mum and I will be spending the evening in the spare room.

Hope that scary bitch doesn’t come and get me!



An unexpected Christmas gift.

What a surprise that would have been…

My son turned 14 the other day and he had 7 of his friends over for a sleep over after a trip to the movies and for something to eat.   I know, I know, at this point you are already probably shaking your head because yes you are right, it was a bloody stupid idea.

To be fair to them they are a pretty nice bunch of lads but that said they are still 14 year old boys and therefore also a huge pain in the arse.  As expected they were loud, they smelled awful and they all think they are most funny when they are not.  Even when they were still pissing about at 2 in the morning it was kind of expected so for the most part I just let them be.

The next morning though there was a rather unexpected surprise when I went into my Amazon account to order a last minute Christmas gift.  Seems they had been using the Amazon Alexa search and order functionality to pick up some last minute Christmas gifts themselves.

Below is just part of the Alexa search history and the item I found awaiting my check out.

Well at least the wife says it was them…

Such thoughtful boys…

screenshot_20181222-101033_amazon shopping233364193054641232..jpgscreenshot_20181222-101539_amazon alexa1069071908132573103..jpg

Probably well deserved.

You’re not all special!

I popped to the engravers this morning to pick up some trophies for a rugby festival I am running tomorrow and noticed a large pile of parcels for the local grammar school.

Seems they are awarding 4 trophies for their top ‘A’ achievers, a good recognition for the ‘merit’ pupils and two very special ones indeed.

Nice to see the school telling it like it is.

Well that’s just super…

Kids. Honestly.

My dear children

I want the best for you but…

some days you are thick

Sorry thats the best I can do.   It is ten to ten and the eldest just told me he needs 6 sheets of filo, ricotta and spring onions for school tomorrow.  I want nothing more to shout and protest and stomp my feet as I was about to get in bed after this post but now I am off to the Tesco just up the road.  If they dont have it then I am going to the store in the next town.  But that’s ok right because I am an awesome dad.

I don’t feel it, I want to make him get dressed and go himself.  Oh, did I mention it’s snowing?  Yeah.  Loads.  Id happily watch him drag his forgetful arse out in a blizzard and drive behind him shouting valuable life lessons out the window.

I can just imagine his snow chilled little face pleading to get in the car as I bellow instructions about how to put up a shelf an how to make a good first impression.

What is more annoying though is that I knew it was food tech tomorrow and forgot to check what he needs.  So really I need to shout at myself.  But I am way past learning.

Stupid idiots the lot of us.  Right, where are my clothes I better get dressed again.


More stuff from my brain meat…

Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge

Deep and insightfully insightfulnessness

I tried to say goodbye.


M is for Michael

that’s me…

Michael.  That’s me.


This seemed like a good idea when I did the title but now I am less sure.  If you’ve read me for more than a day or two then you know what I’m like and I don’t really need to tell you.  I have a wife and kids who I love, a life I enjoy immensely and very few filters or boundaries.

You know what, I think that will just about do.

You really don’t need to know that I love comics or rugby or television or films or coding or laughing or being grumpy, that’s all there for you to see.  You don’t need to know that I think Donald trump is a twat and that I find it quite heart breaking to see what he is doing to America because I grew up with all things American and it played a big part in my growing up.

And you dont need to be told that I like to make people laugh and dont take things too seriously and that I have a problem with authority and organised religion.  It’s all there to see in my writing.

Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to take some pleasure in what I put out there and if not, meh, I’ll get over it.







L is for loss

If I were not here tomorrow…

Were I to die tomorrow then there are so many things I would not get to tell my boys.  As melancholy a thought as it is it is one with which I have of late struggled though something I have yet to remedy.  Such words of wisdom that are a father’s to impart would go unsaid and they would quite possibly venture into this world as young men without my deep and considered understanding of so many things.

Whilst their mother would without doubt provide them the support they need as young men I would not be there to explain to them why they should always ensure they place the drill chuck back in the little holder thingy on the handle of the drill to ensure they are not forever heading to the DIY place to buy another.

I ask myself who, if not me, should be the one to explain why darts is a sport and motor racing is not and why being a Yorkshire-man is truly a privilege.

My heart is heavy with the thought that at my passing so ceases the chance for me to impart upon them how a man should approach washing dishes so as to ensure he never gets asked again.

Truly though I believe the greatest gift we can give them is our presence, time and attention without which we cannot pass on our biases and prejudice.

Good god, what if they grow up to be Manchester United fans?


K is for Kids

Just to be clear. They are not for sale.

I have two and I love them very much, which is lucky for them because there are days when I think they might just be a little bit faulty.  Don’t get me wrong, despite their obvious flaws I still think mine are actually more pleasant than other peoples – and definitely yours – and I have the tedious photo’s and long winded stories to prove it.

I think/hope that my eldest may well have the most wonderful sense of humour as just the other day he asked whether the Germans were still looking for the Von Trapp family.  Now don’t get me wrong, as an Englishman I am of a mind to think that somewhere there is a lower level Ortsgruppenleitner with a hatred for sing songs that is still hopeful of apprehending them, but truth be told that’s probably just me being awful.  I was troubled enough to ask him whether he was serious, and I am still not actually sure.

The youngest is a precious little thing who has the most delightful ability to believe his own lies and I am most certain that he is destined for great things – probably in politics or banking.  Such is his conviction that I often have to refer to the internet to support any argument I may find myself having with him.

Still, I wouldn’t be without them no matter how much I was offered for them – and trust me the little blonde one is worth big money in certain parts of the middle east.  The elder brown haired one is probably worth less though he has broad shoulders and a strong back and would certainly do the work of at least one small mule.

Not that I’ve researched it.  Honest.

To be fair, had I tried to return them or asked for a repair I imagine I would have been told that any damage they are currently exhibiting may well be my fault.




On the matter of inverting a penis.

As a parent you sometimes just do the best job you can then go have a beer.

I do as good a job as I can as a dad, and I know I fall short of the mark plenty but I do try.  I’ve heard it said that we learn how to parent from our own parents though I do not recall having a conversation with my parents as I have just had with mine over lunch.

I’m still away on holiday and on an all inclusive so have at this point in the day had a slushy strawberry daiquiri and two or three beers which might explain how the conversation came about.  I’m not sure really.

Anyway, there we are tucking into lunch when the subject of gender alignment comes up.  How?  I’ll be buggered if I know, it just did.  My kids are 9 and 12 so have to a degree been exposed to such things ever so slightly but for the most part it remains a matter of obliviousness at best and confusion at worse for them.  Given their ages I am quite fine with this and I am happy to deal with things as they come up.  As best I can I encourage my children to be tolerant and understanding of others and try not to make a big deal about such matters.

As I blundered through at one junction my son asked about transgender surgery, and at this point my wife was head down tucking into her lunch – probably expecting this to get rather odd knowing me as she does.

I have no idea why but for some reason I chose to try and explain penis inversion.  Thing is, I don’t really know if that’s a thing.  Well I do but I am particularly short of details.  She looked on in horror, and the boys with some bemusement,  as I chose to use an empty coca cola cup to explain how to invert a penis and turn it into a vagina whilst I had absolutely no idea what the devil I was on about.

I am a programmer not a surgeon.  I’m not even a very good programmer so you can imagine how poor a penis inversion sex change surgeon I am.  I think I used the word urethra at one point which made it sound wholly more convincing in my head but my wife’s exclaimation of “God Mike please stop” would indicate that it was not going as well as I had hoped.  Instead I ploughed on though explaining how you can still take a pee if your penis has been inverted.  I tell you, you’d be surprised the effort it takes to take a coca cola cup and invert it without ripping it asunder and causing them even more consternation than I already was.

By the time I was done they simply stared at me looking more confused than before I had started, and wondering why I had ruined a perfectly good cup.  I am probably going to have to do a little research on the matter and see where I went wrong.  With hindsight I think my choice of props was probably a bad move but they had earlier refused to go fetch me some hot dog sausages from the buffet so I had to use what was at hand.

Anyway, they don’t seem too scarred and they’re back in the pool now having a blast whilst I have another beer.

More limericks about sad things

my quest to determine whether a limerick can make the most horrid subject a little less so…

my quest to determine whether a limerick can make the most horrid subject a little less so…


I fellow I know, a romancer

lovely wife, healthy kids and great dancer

had it all so he thought

but it all came to nought

when he died really young of brain cancer

These Twins at birth were separated

who later in life met and dated

they had kids, sad to say

hip conjoined by the way

now in freak show they’re quite celebrated

“You’re adopted” says father to son

“and I’ve just had a chat to your mum

It’s just not working out

we don’t want you about

this parenting lark’s just no fun.”


Want to read more of my stuff?

This is kinda funny

and this kind of sad

This was just fun