The Person You Were Talking To Is No Longer There

"DO YOU NEED ANY HELP CROSSING THE ROAD LUVVY" was the rather loud instruction shouted at my face by a lady who looked as old as time itself. I looked down at her (she was about 4ft tall) and I kindly told her "Back the fuck off, you manky old bitch. I'd rather get run over by a bus than have your withered hand drape itself on my personage". Of course I didn't really, even I'm not that cruel. I politely declined and said that it was kind of her to ask but I could manage. 
I can't say this happens that often, as since I've had Gibson and we walk around together it appears that I'm now a proper 'special' person. I officially qualify for that seat on the bus that is marked 'for special people only'. I'm like disabled. Which means most people have no idea how to talk to me, treat me or behave around me. 

Please give up your seat for anyone walking with K9, a person bouncing
on a space hopper or someone carrying a pneumatic drill whilst jogging on the spot.  

It's a very interesting situation and one which I often find hugely entertaining, as there's nothing I like better than an awkward silence following a person trying to ease their own discomfort from being around a DISABLED. 
For many years during my twenties I tried to blend in to hide my disability as much as possible. I remember refusing to be registered as blind (the current PC term is sever sight imparied... sigh) as this would mean I would have to tell people when filling out any application form and this was something I just didn't feel comfortable doing. But as my eyesight deteriorated so did my inhibitions and realisation that I didn't care what other people thought or said, it had no actual bearing on my life. Once I had this eureka moment, life became a lot easier and more manageable. 
I've faced many different situations where it has become apparent that people just don't know how to behave or act around me. Obviously people that have known me for many years (and that will probably be everyone who ends up reading this) still treat me as the grumpy old fart that I've always been, and quite right too. 
I was standing innocuously on a platform in the Underground and was reading the Metro that someone had left on the bench. Gibson was sat beside me staring intently at the rats scampering around in the guttering. I was reading and oblivious to what was going on around me until I heard a distinct conversation that was happening right next to me. 

"He must be training that dog"

"Yes, he can see the paper. He's definitely reading it"

"Unless he's just looking at the pictures, he is holding the paper close to his face"

"Maybe the dog belongs to someone else"

"Nah, it's got that harness thingy, he's definitely one of those blinds"

"Blinds? But he can see cant he?"

"I dunno how it works do I, maybe he's just blagged it to get all the free things that they get"

"Yeah, they do get special treatment don't they. I'd definitely pretend if it got me free things"

At this point the tube starting pulling into the station. I leaned over and handed the paper to them. "Here you can have my paper, for free. You clearly like getting things for nothing" 
I wished I could have said more, but to be honest with you some people are beyond saving. I was shaking my head amazed that a conversation like this could take place between two adults. They clearly thought I was deaf as they were talking so loudly next to me. The look of shock on their face when they realised I had heard their conversation was priceless. 

Gratuitous puppy picture. Check. 

It's this type of ignorance that I find more common than not, people are just stupid and ignorant. But of course not everyone is like this, there are many genuine people that devote their lives to helping others less fortunate than them. But you're not going to know about them, as they don't do this to then tell everyone on facebook. They just do it, because they want to. 
There are also other types of people, the ones who think they're doing something right. It's hard to ridicule them as often their heart is in the right place, but a lot of the time there is an overemphasis on 'doing the right thing'. This leads me onto the title of this post, which only a precious few know the actual story behind, so I thought I'd share it with you. 

Right next to the Bournville Boullevard

We went on a family trip to CadburyWorld with an organised Brownie excursion group. They'd very kindly pre-arranged it so that Gibson could come with. In hindsight I wouldn't have taken him as it was a long coach journey and really Gibson didn't have to come. 
The two organisers on the day were very nice and earnest, but they had the need to overcompensate to me and seemed to have to give me a running commentary of the day. For example whilst on the coach one of them approached me and said that we were on a coach, it would be travelling at speed on a motorway to get to our destination. At a service station stop we all got off for refreshments. I was standing having a coffee and cigarette and one of the ladies approached me and said in all honesty:

"The coach is 90 degrees to your right hand side, there are 3 obstacles in your way. We will be leaving in 10 minutes, you should allow at least 5 minutes to get on the coach."

I thanked her and looked round and the coach was 12 feet from where I was standing with a crisp packet and stone on the floor and a bin next to it. She said this in an overly earnest voice, slightly above talking loud. I said to my other half that they clearly don't know I have some sight, and should I tell them. She was adamant that I should just keep quiet as they were trying to be nice and do the right thing. At the land of Cadbury, there was an area where Gibson had to be looked after and the staff kindly took him away from me as we walked around the factory area. When we came back around I inquired where they were keeping him and then I saw a man being dragged by a very excitable Gibson in my general direction. I took his lead back and bent down to give Gibson some attention. I said 'Thank you for looking after him for me'. At this exact juncture I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder and a loud booming voice shout in my ear 

"The person you were talking to is no longer there. You are now talking to a completely different person." 

I looked up and indeed there was a complete stranger looking at me bemused, more at the shouty women than me to be honest. She then proceeded to shout: 

"We are now moving 90 degrees to your left into another room, there are a number of obstacles in your way." 

At this point I was close to boiling point. I grabbed Sim and said that she'd better keep the shouty literal woman away from me. Fortunately there were no further outbursts, and I calmed down. It was very hard to keep my mouth shut, but I realised that this was just how this person dealt with things. She thought she was being nice and helping a special disabled person, who she took it upon herself to ensure avoided any obstacles and moved in an exact very specific trajectory and she clearly loved geometry. 
There is no point to this post, it's merely cathartic for me to put situations into written form, and I hope that I can bring a deeper understanding of geometry to your life. But please note that the person who wrote this blog is no longer here. 

Farsoles of the world unite

I can't believe it's been 15 months since I last posted on here. So much has happened. By so much, I of course mean nothing. Well I'm a year older, and a year grumpier. Which of course means there are more people in the world that I detest and wish were obliterated.
But apart from that, it's all good.
The subject of my ire today are the lovely Facebookers who have taken it upon themselves to live their entire life on Facebook. In some ways it's like everyone in the world has given us a key to their brain, and there's really very little inside.
These Farseholes are everywhere.
They're not just your own friends, due to Facebook's marvelous timeline and overly complex privacy settings, it's not uncommon for an update to appear at the top of your news feed. This post appears out of the blue and is usually someone you hardly know commenting on a post by someone you really don't know. Of course we can all turn these things off, but it's like the modern day equivalent of a crossed-line.
You know that feeling when you were younger and you picked up the phone and surreptitiously started to realise you were in the middle of a conversation by two random people that BT had magically transported down your phone-line. You felt like a member of MI6, eavesdropping on some top secret cold war spy network. The reality was far more banal, you really didn't care that Deirdre's cat had hemerrhoids and Maude's varicose veins were playing up again. But for those few split seconds it was intriguing, exciting and then reality set in. 

That's exactly what Facebook has now become. The initial excitement and wonder whether something interesting will appear, has been quickly superseded by the new realisation that other people's lives are generally as banal as yours. Not only that, may seem to think their lives are actually as exciting as an International Star and that when they popped to the shops to buy some tampax, we all must know about it. Particularly if it's a heavy period and they need the extra large ones. 
Now you may just shout 'Well no-one is forcing you to be on facebook, if you hate people that much why are you on it?'. It's a good question. The answer is also simple. It makes me know that no matter how much of an areshole I can be, and how annoying I probably am, at least I'm not a Farsehole. 
There will no doubt be more on this topic in future blog updates, simply because the tide is turning and like a new zombie plague, the farsehole virus is spreading. They're everywhere. Be warned. You may already have the virus and not realise. Here's a quick test. Look at the picture below. Are your fingers twitching to re-post this immediately on your timeline? If so, it may be too late... 

  

Blisters and Gay Tour Guides

Day two started with a very early jaunt to the Apple store to retrieve my 'special' iPad2 from the very special specialist called Emilia (yes Paul she was very fit, and no doubt you would hang out of the back of it, knowing you).

We then hot-footed it to our OnBoard tour bus pick up, to meet our New York Jon Inman with his very gay red umbrella and interest in all things fashiony and Steel. It was a great tour and we got a snapshot of the whole city including a boat across to the Statue of Liberty. After soaking up the atmosphere and seeing the Brooklyn Bridge close up, my darling wife summarised the spectacle perfectly 'I can see now why Miranda had such a big issue with moving across to Brooklyn in SATC'. Such cultural insight I think you'll agree.

After the tour we wandered around the extremely garish Times Square and then after a quick change walked down Broadway to our posh restaurant. after eating scrumptious fine dining fare we walked the hour back to our hotel admiring the madness of Times Square with full size minis on billboards. It's so bright at night that even a blind one such as I can see.

We collapsed and woke early again on our actual anniversary. 10 years. Quite a feat and one we celebrated in the best possible way.

Surprising her indoors is never easy, in fact pretty impossible. If she gets a sniff of something dodgy them she's like an annoying 5yr old who won't stop bugging you till you let on. But amazingly I managed to keep the big surprise of the helicopter trip a secret till we were literally five minutes away.

It was an amazing experience and definitely something to store in my brain box as very special days, which also includes our wedding day (well she is going to be reading this) and the day I discovered if I pull my pee pee a lot it makes me feel kinda special funny in a good way.

After this we took a blister busting 'stroll' up through the financial district, to the World Trade area and then across Brooklyn Bridge. We ate at Grimaldi's Pizzeria, heralded as having the best pizzas in the whole state.. And I can honestly say it was the best pizza I've ever had in my life. Quite magnificent.

After this gastric phenomenon we decided to get the subway back uptown to Grand Central, such am iconic and beautiful place. I felt like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, except I didn't have my fabulous melting face disguises, which I'd lent to Worzel Gummidge.

And now I sit relaxing in a Fifth Avenue store nursing my sore tootsies whilst the misses starts to shop till she drops.

Concrete Jungle...

In the city that never sleeps it's now 8:50pm and The Wife is snoring next to me in our luxurious extra comfortable Queen bed. I'm not far behind, it has been a he'll of a day.
But we made it. The Mazin's are in NYC.

It all started at 7am when our friendly reliable cabbie Steve picked us up to Heathrow. FF 90 minutes we arrive at Terminal 3, and at check-in The Dilemma was offered.

'We have an over-booked flight, if you don't mind taking the later flight to NY at 5pm we will give you 2 free return tickets to anywhere in the world, to be used in the next 18 months.'

So naturally when put on the spot we turned them down. You may think we were mad, but having spent a further 2 hours at Terminal 3, the thought of spending an extra 6 hours there was not worth any free flight. Its not called Terminal for nothing you know. It's where Unicorns go to die.

So we got a free upgraded seat with extra legroom and danced merrily through to the departure gate, which is just a herding pen for humans. But I discovered that I have the magic Staff of Ultimate Power... Well my white stick, which so far has proved exceptionally useful when getting ahead of able bodied norms, particularly when I use this with my rather excellent Joey impression and do some convincing shoulder munching. It's amazing what you can get when people think you're a 'Special'.

The flight was smooth and very enjoyable, despite being over 7 hours. For travellers used to flying via FlyLo it was a new experience for us not to be spat on or rudely shoved into a space no human should really fit. I enjoyed the food, there's something about airline food. Maybe it's just the way you have to unwrap it from tinfoil, but it's just so lovely eating your lunch 3 miles in the air the novelty is yet to wear off.

In-flight entertainment although brilliant, I managed to watch 30 minutes of 2 dire films - step forward Morning Glory and Hereafter. Instead I watched 2 episodes of the rather brilliant The Trip with Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon. I was snorting with laughter. Marvellous.

Security at JFK was horrific, until an angel from security spotted my SoUP and dragged me and The Wife to the front of the queue. Sorry norms- who's Special now eh? Oh still me.

Then after a quick luggage pick-up and more security (I think it's time we told those Yanks that there's no point trying to close that stable door when those horses bolted 10 years ago) we got in a cab and met our driver. Or rather The World's Grumpiest Yellow Cab Driver (TM). Just what you need after hours and hours of travelling is another painful journey with a grumpy bugger, but by this point I just didn't care anymore.

After driving for more than 45 minutes through what looked like the North Circular with US road signs, we went through a tunnel and arrived in Manhattan.

Even though it was sleeting it still looked fantastic. We arrived at our hotel, and I got called Sir 3 times in the first 5 minutes with no air of sarcasm whatsoever. After a quick trip out to the Westway Diner for some dinner we tredged through the now settled snow and ice back to our hotel, for a well deserved night of sleep whilst everyone else can stay up in this snowstorm!

To be continued......

P.s due to an unknown technical hitch photos are not appearing in this blog so will be posted direct on FB

Did you Smash It?

I don't know about you - but I can't bear Female People, or Fat People, White People, Black People, Yellow People, Pink People, Small People, Large People, Annoying People, Kind People, Jealous People, Inane People.. the list goes on. In fact I can't bear ANYONE. 

So sack me. Gary - you're fired for being Peoplist. OK Gary, thanks. I'd like to apologise to all the people I've offended. Although I hate you all, I'm actually nice to your face. 

As we go along in life, our natural instinct is to be wary of others, we are just animals really. 

Spot the odd one in

Seriously though, it's all very very silly isn't it. As a 30 something I grew up in the 70s and 80s a time when Mind Your Language was one of the biggest and best shows on television. For those uninitiated with this 'sit-com' it basically consisted of every racial stereotype imaginable sitting in a room having the piss taken out of them, for all of us to laugh at. Also Jim Davidson was one of the 'funniest' comedians on the box, and of course it was more common for women to be called 'love' and 'pet'. The biggest TV quiz show of the time was the classic Bullseye, never a more misogynistic show would be seen in our lifetime. So after being impregnated with such racially dodgy views for so many years, is it any wonder that there's so many Daily Mail readers today? 

Accordingly, my hatred of people runs deep and Andy Gray and Richard 'Manimal' Keys fall into the category of abhorrent small-minded, dysfunctional grunts that I particularly detest. Yet I for one was heartily dismayed that they've been fired/forced out. I mean their personal views had no bearing on what they do in their day to day job, which is talking to men about other men moving a spherical orb around a large area covered in grass, trying to make sure the orb lands between two sticks, and being able to do this more times than the other men in the allotted time-frame earlier agreed upon. 

Women ARE the better species. It's a FACT. They are better at everything that men can do. They've proved it time and time again. I'm an excellent single tasker. I can do one thing at a time pretty well. I'm managing to type this blog quite fast. Now I've stopped to drink my tea. .... Now I've stopped drinking my tea, I can carry on.... Sorry phone rang. Back again. 
But I watch my other half in disbelief as she cradles the phone between her neck having a deep conversation whilst cleaning the kitchen, making dinner, sending an email, arranging her birthday list, surfing the internet and gobbling me off.

How does she do it? 

Simply because she's much better than me at pretty much everything. 
So it's understandable that us Men cling on to football. It's one of the last things that Men still do better than Women. Women can't play football. That's a fact. Anyone who's ever watched a women's football match will know. So please let us have this. Don't take this away from us. 

Thousands and thousands of men abandon their wives, children and families for 90 minutes on a Saturday to spend time with other men, talking about how good their team is in playing with the aforementioned spherical orb. It's not big, it's not clever, but it is still one of the few places where Men can feel superior to Women. I know there are many women that love football as much as men (probably the same proportion of straight men who enjoy talking about periods and buying make-up), but it is still very much dominated by men for men. So was it really such a surprise to find that two of the main people involved in the broadcasting of football, think that women should 'know their limits' and talk about 'fluffy kittens'. Of course not. It's thanks to the morally outraged Daily Mail readers, who were brought up on a daily regime of racism, sexism and bad TV that find this behaviour despicable. 

Quick joke in keeping with the theme:
Q. What do you call a useful woman? 

A. A dead one. 


How funny is that. Ha HA HAAAAA HAAAA. What - you mean it's sexist? You don't find it funny? 

Well you'd be interested to know that on QI, Jo Brand said exactly that joke replacing the women part with men, and of course she got a big laugh. How is that possible? 

See - I've just done a To Kill A Mockingbird on you. Or for our younger readers A Time To Kill. Why is that acceptable in our society now, as long as men are being ridiculed? It's an interesting question. I'm not going to get all philosophical here, but really cements my earlier argument that women are the greater species and are actually in control. 

You can look around our TV schedules now to find programmes for women, aimed at women - ostracising men on a daily basis. Anything from Loose Women through to some fashion twonk. So ultimately the one time when men had a bit of a dig at women, stating that women don't know the offside rule (again in general terms this is indeed a fact. I barely understand it, and have tried to explain it to many women and failed). 

So to all you sexist bitches out there. Let us have our football and ironically claim how you should be 'doing the washing up' or 'ironing our clothes' whilst we cower in the corner waiting for the few hours on a Saturday when we can feel like MEN. 

THE BLOG IS BACK!

Yes I know,  it's been a while. But I'm back. To spread the word of our lord Baby Jesus to you all and make you all BELIEVE... err sorry, let's start again shall we. 

I'm back. .... (silence)......(tumbleweed blows past)
Hello ... (hello... hello... echo .... )
Oh well, I care that the blog is back, even if no-one else does. 

So what's happened to Rev Food I hear you cry. Well after spending some time lounging and eating as we all do over the festive season, it's time to get cracking again. 

My diet has calmed down to a more normal level, I still love my bird seed and Alpen with rice milk (mmm you should try it), and have stayed away from the demon fizzy soft drinks and smoking. I've also started walking again. It's been too bloody cold to do any outdoor activities, but now it's nearly February it's time to get on with it again. 

So I hope that all the festive excesses have stopped and everyone has started thinking about how to get back onto the healthy regime. I'm always amazed how many people suddenly join gyms and go on intensive post-new year diets, all for it to fail miserably before the end of January. I mean January is such a horrible month to do anything so drastic. The days are short, the weather is horrible and generally everyone is in a grump, so why subject yourself to what is clearly torture? It makes much more sense to ease yourself in to a healthy regime and start building up exercise. The Spring is a much more sensible time to start and get things going. Now that the dreaded 'most miserable' day of the year is over, it's only going to get better from now. 

So you'll all be delighted to hear that Rev Food is back, looking down on all the fatties and 'tsking' and shaking his head in that 'I'm better than you way' that the Rev loves to do. Not really fatties, I love you really (no, actually I don't). 

When One was younger One was also a DICK

Talking in the 3rd person, that's actually one of my pet hates. Have you discovered this fairly recent phenomennonononon which seems to have sneaked up on us over the past few years into everyday language, since the start of The Apprentice. it's basically that annoying habit of people talking about themselves in the 3rd person. Anyone who does this is a DICK. Rev Food thinks that people who talk about themselves in the 3rd person are DICKS. So stop it now. This also goes for people who use the word 'One' at the beginning of a sentence. It doesn't make you sound big or clever, just more DICKISH. So if you are a DICK, then by all means carry-on,just don't be surprised why everyone hates you.

See - I bet you're glad that I'm back. It was nice to have a bit of a break, as in the last 2 months there's been a lot more things that I've found have annoyed me, so that the blog will have lots of new fresh targets to vent my spleen. 

New Year Resolutions are another pointless exercise in my book. Why bother? Come on - hands up who made these so called resolutions? See that's a lot of you. Now keep your hands up everyone who keeps these resolutions for the year. See - no-one, apart from that weird looking kid at the back - who I think has some deformity that means he can't lower his arm. So why do we do them? It's just another social conformity that we all feel the 'need' to be a part of. 

Don't get me wrong,  I have also spent many years also making these resolutions. I think the best one i made was: This year I will make an effort to be nicer to people. That one lasted about 3 hours. So come on people stop being sheep, wake up and smell the roses. Why do you need a particular date to tell you when to make a change? 

This brings me onto my final spleen venting for this blog day, Valentines Day. Probably the most pointless and idiotic day in the entire calendar. Even more pointless than St Swithin's Day. I will post more about this despicable creation nearer the time, as I feel it needs it's own blog write up. I'd like to think I'm a romantic, I love my wife and my family. I try and treat them all and show my love and appreciation for them on a regular basis. So WHY OH WHY do I have to send a friggin card and flowers on some day in February because the 'Man' tells me to. I think there's actually nothing sadder than seeing couples go out on a 'romantic' meal on Valentine's night to spend the entire meal sitting in silence, as they feel they should be making an effort, whist inwardly they hate themselves and everything their lives stand for. OK - I'm guessing the last bit. 

I feel I have so much more to say, but for now I think enough is enough. There's only so much steam that can come out of my ears in one sitting. I need a cup of Jasmine tea and a lie-down to calm myself. 

A Booky Wook

It's quite sad to see that the physical book is dying out. Sure it will be many many years before they completely disappear, but no doubt due to the technological movement and environment books will gradually disappear from our society. 

What with the Kindle, iPad and a multitude of new Android tablets due for release next year,  there will be more electronic books in circulation than physical ones. Although I can't see how children's books will be replaced as easily, there's nothing like a big bright colourful book to raise the interest. But I know that fewer and fewer parents are even buying their children books and encouraging them to read. It's far easier to buy them a Nintendo DSi and let them play with that than actually read a book with them. 

A friend pointed out that when they were in a pizza restaurant recently there was a family on the table next to them and all 3 of their children were playing with their DSi's whilst the parents ignored them. Don't get me wrong, Isabella has a DSi and no doubt Ellis will also have one in a few years, but we monitor the time she spends on it. But I'm proud to say that she has probably hundreds of books that we've collected over the years, some were given as presents, others picked up in charity shops. 

When I was younger I had no greater joy than reading a new book. I got into horror books at a very young age, and used to love reading the most gruesome and gory books and using my imagination. One of my personal favourites was the endearingly titled 'SLUGS'. They slime, they ooze and they kill. The perfect combination!

I generally used to go through a book in a couple of days, and used to love searching and hunting in the library for the next great horror or fantasy book to swallow me up and take me to a faraway place. I'm only surmising, but I expect its because of my constant need to read books from a young age that my vocabulary and communication skills are what they are today. For me there's no greater enjoyment than delving into a book, and soaking up the atmosphere and relishing every page. I have read a few books electronically, and it just doesn't work for me. 

Also I worry about the public library. A wonderful British institution that just oozes stuffiness, awkwardness and the only place where people with glasses truly feel at home. In fact anyone who doesn't at least wear glasses, a cardigan and some corduroy slacks would be out of place. But it's perhaps this reason that libraries get a bad rap. I wish that more parents would encourage their children to go to the library, and as an adult I still love to roam the shelves looking for that hidden gem, or a book I haven't read for many years. If I had as much time as I did when I was younger, then I would still happily read 2 books a week, but unfortunately the draw of technology is too strong. 

I'm a great believer in technology for improving our lives, but I just don't think that electronic books really do that. I know that they cut down on paper wastage, free up much needed shelving space, but really - you just can't get excited about downloading the latest John Grisham rather than picking it up in your local WH Smiths. I urge everyone to go to your library, sign up and start reading again.

Life without the stuffy book will never be the same again. I hope it's hear to say for many more years to come. Now to pick up a copy of the new Alan Sugar autobiography that looks like it's the size and weight of a small house. 

Trick or Trick...

So that's Halloween done for another year. One of the many new wave of holiday event days that has suddenly sprung up in the last 10 or so years. When I was a lad, all we did was watch Halloween I, II, III or IV and get scared by Jason. We never went trick or treating, it was such an American thing, that you only really saw on E.T. and other films from the old US of A. 

But as with everything that started over there, we've now inherited this totally pointless holiday. Don't get me wrong, it was lovely for the kids to dress up and have fun. I also really enjoyed carving a pumpkin and making a delicious pumpkin, sweet potato & leek soup. But the whole trick or treating malarky is rather amusing. 

Apart from the fact that it seems to be an unwritten law in the UK that you don't EVER knock on your neighbours door unless in a complete emergency, it's also rather strange to see how your neighbours live and why they lock and bolt their doors at 5:30pm on a Sunday afternoon. We're not exactly living in Beirut. 

But what I find most peculiar is as parents we are encouraging our children to take sweets off of and talk to strangers. Never forgetting what Charlie said, this is a VERY BAD THING. 






So our children toddle up to the front door, ring the bell and demand that stranger give them some confectionary, preferably the type with a lot of sugar that will make them fat. Is it me, or is this all a bit mad?

But the most annoying part, is the stroppy teenagers who ring our bell and demand some high quality sweets or indeed there will be a bad trick. So it's ok to feel threatened in our home because it's Halloween. No wonder so many of our neighbours kept their lights off and their doors locked shut. 

So why is it ok to encourage kids to eat sweets and chocolate on this day, and yet we spend pretty much every other day trying to control their intake? It's the madness of clever marketing is what it is. If Halloween consisted of children going round collecting fruit from strangers, it would never have got off the ground. Quite simply because there would have been no money in it. 

As a cynical old hack, it's not difficult to find all this commercialisation so distasteful. I went into my local Sainsbury's and found a whole isle of sweets and chocolates that only appear for Halloween. So it's now turned into Easter in the Autumn. All those Big Food companies are rubbing their hands with glee as we buy chocolate witch fingers and chocolate eyeballs. So just another example of how it's impossible to escape all this sugary madness. And we wonder why so many kids get fat and crave sweets. 

I had no problem grabbing loads of sweets when i was younger,  and I didn't need some extra pointless holiday to encourage me to eat more. The Halloween spirit was summed up for me, when I was in the queue to pay for my bag of carrots and apples (naitch) in front of me was what looked Augustus Gloop and his family from hell. Piled high in their trolley was the following:
- Monster Munch variety pack x12
- Kit Kat x24
- Mars/Snickers variety packs x 2
- Tizer
- Lucozade
- Coke (non diet)
- Variety of Mr Kipling caked goods

Stripey tops definitely make you look fatter. FACT.

...and  that was just what was on the top that I could see. The family consisted of a huge mother, equally huge father, boy probably around 9 who was as big as me and a girl who couldn't have been older than 4 sitting in a pushchair that was buckling under the weight as she sucked on a Yazoo 1/2 litre bottle of banana milkshake. Well it's got milk in, so it must be good for you!

And sadly this is probably the norm. I don't know if this was a special Halloween shop, or simply their need to top up their sugar fixes, but it made me feel ill just watching them fight over the bags. Seeing them was enough of a fright for me to last into the next Halloween and beyond thank you very much. 

So now we can look forward to Fireworks Night, where we can encourage our children to hold lit flames and watch things explode at a not very safe distance. Hurrah for mad Holiday's. I for one can't wait for Slapsday, where we get to slap random strangers who just annoy us. 

Oooh Aaah Just a Little Bit More...

Today its all about too much food. If I lived in the US I would no doubt be this big:

But maybe I wouldn't wear that shirt... 

Anyway, my point being that I'm big enough as it is, if I lived in a country where the average portion size was 150% bigger than what we're used to, then it goes without saying I would be MASSIVE. The Americans just love everything big. Bigger is better, and why give you one quarter pounder, when a half pounder burger is better. 

There's a show on cable called Man Vs Food, which basically shows this guy going round the US trying out loads of food challenges. Most of them include him eating what amounts to a whole cow, sheep or pig in cooked meat form. The food eating contest scene is so popular in America that they're actually canvassing it to be included as an Olympic sport. If you don't belive me go and have a look at The International Federation of Competitive Eating or  Major League Eating as they like to be called for short. 

Believe it or not, she could eat you under the table

So they actually class overeating as a competitive sport. If you fancy yourself a bit of a competitive food eater, then you're living in the wrong country. What is quite funny though, is that a lot of the competitors in the eating contests are actually rather skinny. Including this lovely lass Sonya Thomas, she ate 11lbs of Cheesecake in 10 minutes. Wow. I mean I love cheesecake, but eating more than a 1lb a minute..

Unfortunately as well we know the US is far and away the most obese nation in the world, and although not everyone takes part in competitive eating, the fact that they watch it as a sport, pretty much sums up one of the main problems with the country. And sadly, we're now not too far behind at all. As a country, we may be lacking in some sports, just see our dismal World Cup display. But we can now proudly boast that we're the most obese country in the whole of Europe. How about that for some top bragging rights. 

I must stop at this moment to post this clip, which has to be one of the funniest and most bizarre things you will EVER see in your life. One of the all time great competitive eaters Kobayashi (not the one from The Usual Suspects) faces off against a Giant Bear. Not a man called a giant bear. Literally a GIANT BEAR. I tip my hat to you people. Genius. 

So we now know we're the most obese nation in Europe, and that's not going to suddenly get better. Our current overstretched NHS spends more than £4.2 billion on obesity per year, and this is increasing at a rate that we can't afford. So when we wonder why the NHS is in such a state, it's because of all those fatties and Vanessa Feltz having gastric bypass surgery. 

You're probably thinking 'OK Mr. Cleverclogs, what's the solution?'. Well obviously there is no real easy solution, but I would say that one of the main factors is how children are being raised, which is a start. You only need to look around at how much food is available for kids at such a young age, and how so little of it is actually good for them. A 3yr old is more likely to recognise the Maccy D's and Disney logo, more than any other. 

I think that we're probably fcuked. To be honest. It's all down to the individuals, and at the moment people seem more interested in surgery or the latest diet pill, rather than the seemingly harder job of stopping eating crap and exercising.

Did you know that the healthiest people in the whole world live in Okinawa, an island near Japan. How are they so healthy? Well they believe in Hari Hachi Bu, which simply translates as eating till your 80% full. On Okinawa island, they have more people who live older than 100 than anywhere else in the world. They also have the longest life expectancy than anywhere else in the world. It's no coincidence, that they live on a diet of whole foods, seeds, grains, vegetables and fish, along with a daily exercise routine. Just read this to be amazed. They also manage their intake of calories, so they only ever eat till they're 80% full. I'm not saying we should all practice that, but it does make you think. I'm sure some people would say that they'd prefer to live to 65 and be able to eat chocolate and processed crap till they couldn't eat any more. But personally I'd like to live till at least 100, well I would imagine that by then my time machine will finally be working, and I can take over the world. MWAAHH MWAAAAHHH. 

So the next time you want go large in Maccy D's, think about Hari Hachi Bu. 

The Diet Trap

I know that some people can't understand when I tell them I'm not 'on a diet', as they're so caught up and brain-washed with the whole diet trap that it's not easy to see the wood for the tress so to speak.

Generally we've all gone on a diet at some point in our lives, even people who are not over-weight go on a 'diet' to lose a few pounds before a holiday, or to get into that particular dress or dinner suit. But the problem is that most of the time we're bloody miserable. Diets are horrible things, that seem to spend more time telling you what you're not allowed rather than what you are. 

It's a common fact that as soon as you say to someone 'Please can you not touch that large piece of chocolate cake, I'm saving it for later'. They automatically want that piece of chocolate cake more than anything else. It's what is commonly referred to as the Adam Complex (well when I say commonly - I just made it up. But it sounds good!). As in Adam & Eve. According to legend, and not truth - Adam could have anything he wanted from the Garden of Eden, apart from that sodding apple. So why did they eat that Apple? Because they were told they couldn't have it, and allegedly there was some talking snake who was not helping matters. 

Just one wafer thin Apple. Oh No I can't I'm stuffed. Oh go on, go on etc

Before I go on a religious rant here,  I can't let the talking snake pass. As sane individuals, we're meant to believe in god. The same god who made this snake talk, and then apparently because it was so evil took its ability to talk away for all future snakes. Well that's clearly bollocks is it not? Hands up who believes in god. Ok that's quite a few of you. Now hands up who believes in talking animals. Well apart from Dr Dolittle over in the corner, it's all gone a bit quiet. It's not like there's loads of talking animals around. Anyway - I'm diversifying and this was not a religious post, even though I am Rev Food. 

So back to the Adam Complex. This is fundamentally the basis for all diets since the beginning of time. Whatever diet you go on, they're all saying it's good to eat this and that but whatever you do, don't eat THAT CHOCOLATE BAR, or if you do, you're only allowed 1/4 of it. So obviously we spend all our time thinking 'I can't eat that chocolate bar, but I WANT IT'. So when you're on a diet you spend all your time trying not to think of what you're not allowed to eat, or using your will power to stop yourself. And generally you're pretty miserable. I don't remember many times when I've been on a diet and was truly happy. I lost over 2 stonne on the Slimming World diet, and thought at the time it was brilliant. But as the diet stops you from mixing carbs and protein it's not workable on a long-term basis, and sure enough once I'd lost the weight it soon started to creep back once I started to eat 'normally' again. 

How do you get off the Adam Complex? Well it's actually quite easy really. It''s just a case of realising that you're really not missing out on anything at all. I can eat chocolate if I want to, but why would I want to? There will be times when I choose to have some nosh, but it's my choice. I know it's hard to explain, so for now I'll just tell you about a new fad diet that I've just come up with. I'm going to make my millions from it. 

I call it the 5 ITEMS OR LESS DIET. In a nutshell - from now on - don't eat packaged food that has more than 5 ingredients in it. Simple. You'll find that you'll end up cutting out nearly all processed food from your diet and that's not a bad thing at all. And don't eat anything that you don't know where it's come from. So no random meat product. Most packaged food you buy has a lot of extra ingredients that you don't need. The items that you buy that have less than 5 ingredients, will not contain any extra sugar, salt or processed E numbers. Now go to the supermarket and see what you can actually buy with 5 items or less. You'll be amazed how little there is. 

A prize for anyone who knows what the hell this is? It sounds truly disgusting

See what I've done there. I've gone and slagged off diets, and then gone and added another one to the mix. But if I can make my fortune off it, then you can all stay fat for all I care. I'll be rich, rich I tell thee.