Interlewd

I'm going to write a big blog about my thoughts on Fatherhood etc, but currently I'm suffering from sleep deprivation and toothache.


I just wanted to share a strange thing I came across (I'm going to regret putting it like that in a minute.)





That's right, there's a Porn version of Deal or No Deal. Unfortunately it's the American version. I think I'd prefer a British one with a chiselled Noel Edmonds, and 20 assorted people, many of whom look like they've just come from the Mos Eisley Cantina.





These parodies are getting ridiculous. If they were made in the UK I'm sure we'd have had "Life on Arse" "Gashes to Gashes" and EastBenders.


I'm just hoping they get stranger and we get old Sci-fi programs as Pornos. I mean Time Tunnel is ripe for the picking.

I've Always Depended on the C#ntness of Strangers

This post was meant to be a baby update. The situation is that my wife is in labour and some time today we'll have our baby. We've just got back from the hospital, who've sent us home so she can relax. She's having painful contractions and I feel a but useless truthfully.


What I'm going to write about is the fucking horrible thing that JUST happened. On the way back from the hospital we have to drive down South Africa Road to get home. SAR has quite a few speed bumps and when you have a wife in labour you slow down for said bumps.


While driving down the road a black people carrier (minicab) was right up my arse. Anyway I was driving around 25 mph. For those not in the know that's a safe speed 5 mph less than the speed limit on the road I was on. Not super fast, not super slow.


As I turned from SAR onto Blomfontein Road the minicab overtook me as I turned (illegal) and swerved to hit me as he obscenely gestured at me. Both the wife and I are fine, but it could have been the opposite.


Before you ask, I have called the Police. But with vehicular crime of this sort I have to visit a Police station (within 24 hours), something which I won't be doing in the next 24 hours. The woman did say I can go after 24 hours, because of the circumstances. Well that's nice of her. Thanks for making me feel protected and supported. Useless.


To say I'm angry is an understatement. I will do everything in my power to deal with this person. I'm exhausted and upset. But luckily my wife and I are fine. She's just having painful contractions.

Pop Goes the Weasel

Today is the day my baby is meant to emerge into the world, and so far there's been no sign. Not even a slight wobble. To say my wife is frustrated would be a supreme understatement.

For those of you not in the know I'm here to inform you about the 9 months fallacy. See a baby's gestational period is actually measured in weeks, with the baby due to pop out in week 40. Though to be even more confusing, a baby is technically term at 37 weeks, but full term at 40. Now if you're a lady with a wee parasite in your belly weeks 37 to 40 feels like about 6 months. Your bump is solid, the little wriggler is moving constantly, and your back feels like it's going to explode under the pressure. At night you can only sleep on your side, and if you stay on one for too long your leg starts to hurt like buggery. On top of that the weight of the alien on your bladder means you have to go to the toilet every 10 minutes. So people who go on about not sleeping when the baby comes, while right, have vastly underestimated what it's like before.




Now as someone who wakes up whenever a fly farts, this also means I've not been sleeping. This isn't me asking for sympathy, I know how lucky I am that a beautiful woman let me impregnate her that I'm fine with it all. The point I'm making is, by the time the squirt arrives you're already exhausted. Not to mention all the normal life stuff that needs to be done while you're in this situation.


Anyway, slight digression. The point of my post is to talk about the baby coming, or lack there of. See from 37 weeks you're on standby. You know that the little blighter could emerge at any moment, so any slight change can send you into overdrive. "Honey my stomach's gone hard and not stopped" "I've got the runs" "My belly's shifted!" All of the above will convince you that the time is now. Unfortunately it isn't. The body's just preparing itself, and the poor midwives on the other end of the phone are going to have to spend another 20 minutes calming you down. So you make it to 40 weeks and you're ready to have it out. But there's no sign.





From 37 weeks we tried everything to kick start labour. We were told the baby was engaged, and it was big and healthy; so we weren't taking unnecessary risks. Though if we had it didn't help anyway. You'll read online the various techniques to kick start labour and I can reveal now they're all bullshit. In the past 3 weeks my wife has ingested Pineapple, Raspberry Leaf tea, and spicy food by the truckload. We've walked about and done lots of the sex, but my baby has stood firm. I'm not that surprised that sex didn't work, because if I saw a giant pink sausage coming towards my front door, I'd stay in. Obviously when I say giant, I'm talking in scale to the baby.




I'd heard about the sexual kick start before we'd had a baby, and made all the jokes about a small hand reaching out and grabbing it. What I didn't realise until I read up was that it isn't the motion of the ocean (or the sun in the sky) that makes bubs appear; it's the man's sticky mess. Now here's the science bit, the baby's being held up by the lady's cervix (entrance - tee hee) which is all hard (like a carrot as a midwife in our anti natal class described it.) The Toni Braxton Hicks contractions a woman has during pregnancy act as a way of softening the cervix. Hopefully "ripening the carrot into a nice soft plum." When you do sex on a lady your love wee acts as a fabric softener on the cervix, thus helping the baby to pass through. Now this science could only have been written by a man, but I want to stand by it for obvious reasons. My favourite addendum to that is a Scientist who, at a pregnancy seminar, gave a speech stating that semen reacting with the gut is far more efficient; so women show blow their fellas to make their baby come. Either way, ladies you have to make your baby cum, to make your baby come.



So nothing's worked and we've got to our due date. My wife has battled through 40 weeks of pregnancy, and Baby Zee is still happily ensconced in Camp Mummy. So today I'm going to take a different approach to coaxing out the little beggar. Initially I suggested to Mrs Z that I should tie a Farley's Rusk to a bit of string and dangle it in front of her groin. She then pointed out that the baby has no knowledge of Rusks yet, so this would be futile; but could I go out and buy her some Rusks because I've now put the idea in her head. My first idea thwarted by baby ignorance I took the only path I could think of, music.



Unfortunately despite playing it against belly and downstairs lady parts; my child remained in their Womb Lair. Later I hope to make the wife jump up and down, scare her with my face and make her eat a chilli (actually did that yesterday, but another try can't help.) So here's me signing off, hoping that this post acts as a baby kick start. See Sod's Law dictates that if I publicly go on about how the baby isn't coming, it'll appear just to make me look like a prat. Here's hoping.


Z


Late addition thanks to Nathaniel Metcalfe.

Interlude

I've spent this morning loading my loft into a van, and unloading it into a storage unit. My father, who is a herculean superman, did most of the work despite having not one but two large kidney stones. I can barely make myself a cup of tea when I've stubbed my toe.

Anyway I want to review some books but I am so fricking tired I cannot face it. So here's a musical interlude.

A Touch of the Mondays

I'm sure you've all read in the papers about the Auton government's cuts to just about everything. Our plastic leaders have decided in their esteemed wisdom to cut spending on services, benefits, oxygen production, etc to help the country lurch back into prosperity. I understand part of their plan is to take a portion of the newly unemployed electorate (preferably Labour voters) and sell their organs around the world. They've already decided to turn part of the Olympics into a body parts expo for Mad Scientists from around the globe. While enjoying some light entertainment in the form of sport, you too can choose from a variety of the disenfranchised to transform into monstrous undead armies.

Because I work with the homeless our contracts are tied to councils, so we always expected to be hit by the cuts. I especially knew that I would, as I'm employed through an agency so changing me around was alot easier than a full time staff member. Just before I go on I'd like the record to show I'm not in the slightest bit bitter at the company I work for. I was originally only going to be employed for four months and over a year later I'm still there. They've also kept me abreast of everything and been really really good to me. ANYWAY recently it was agreed by the council I work for that I should go down to four days a week.

Now initially my thoughts went to money. But the difference in pay wasn't too grand, and I could still afford the same amount of UHU and donkey porn I had become accustomed to. So my next thought was that this actually was a blessing. I had been gifted an eternal three day weekend. I could devote a day a week to doing the stuff I never had time to do during the week, like for example writing. Unfortunately for writing there's something else going on in my life currently.

On February fifth I'm due to become a father for the first time. Now this isn't me moaning about having no time. That would be a massive dick move. It is an absolute blessing (every time I type that I want to type BLESSED) and we very much made the choice to have a baby. Apart from anything else I'm so fucking happy and excited about it coming I could never resent the little beggar. But I digress, my Mondays "off" have become an insane cacophony odd jobs, appointments and site visits.

That's right, site visits. On top of us about to have a kid, a full time job, and trying to finish this comic pitch; we've moved out of our house as it's completely remodelled. Complete re-wire, new bathroom, new kitchen, adding a new utility room, and loft conversion. Suffice it to say, just a bit going on. God love our builders, they are bloody quick and we're in week four and re-wire is almost done.

Today is a good example of how my Mondays look. Had to be up early as a very kind friend has given us a nursing chair for free, so no sleep in. My wife has her 38 week check-up (she's actually 39 weeks and 2 days for those counting) at 11am. After that it's straight to the building site so I can start sorting stuff in my loft as tomorrow I have to clear it with my (long suffering) father, so work can begin up there. At 1.30 we have a kitchen designer coming in, and after he's gone I have to finish in the loft before it gets dark as there's no lights in there.

I'd be lying if I said that today was not a typical "free Monday". I know with the baby it will definitely only get worse. But this isn't me complaining. It's more me charting my life and offering up a little window into why I'm constantly putting off "proper" writing.

So if there's a point to all this (which there probably isn't) I would like to offer some advice to prospective parents. In the closing months of 2010, while knowing full well we were expecting I: moved house, learnt to drive, started major dental work to make my smile not like a Universal Monster's, and completed my grade six musical theatre exam. This on top of a full time job and a very pregnant wife who can't do much (she's amazing and I'm happy to work twice as hard for her.) My advice is this. Don't make the same "mistakes" we did. If you're thinking of trying for a child, get certain things locked down first. Need to learn to drive? Do it first. Want to move or have work done on your place? Get it sorted first. The pressure you feel at this little person coming into the world is indescribable (but I'm gonna give it a go.) You will go through every range of emotion possible. Your wife/partner will need so much help it's unreal. And all that stuff about not being able to sleep when the baby comes, while true, is also an understatement. I'm sure little Baby Zee will keep us up, but also be prepared not to sleep for the last couple of months of the pregnancy. She will be so uncomfortable that she will toss and turn all night, as well as visiting the loo every ten minutes. If you're a light sleeper like me, resign yourself to getting 3-4 hours a night max.

So in summation. I've got lots on, if you've got the choice don't do everything at the same time. Though I'm happy as Larry, I'd kill for some rest.

Laters
Matt

*All photos loving pinched from Google. Thanks to all actual owners. Obviously that is my real 20 week baby scan.

Tangled

Today I had planned to finally go and see the Social Network. Unfortunately stupid Vue Westfield had listed it on the website as on this afternoon, despite it not being on. Well you all know the Zitron motto about making Lemonade (actually the Zitron Motto is "If in Doubt, Drink"); so we (Wife, Mother, Father and I) decided to go to see Tangled.

For those of you who don't know, Tangled is the latest in a long line of Disney Princess capers. Unless I'm mistaken (which is a likely possibility) I think it's also the first in not only 3D, but CGI. Tangled is the Rapunzel story, I hate to say updated (which to me conjures up the idea of a young girl dangling her locks from the fortieth floor of a tower block), so lets go with re-imagined. I hate spoilers so I'll try and be vague with the plot. Suffice to say you have a pretty young girl who's locked in a tower, who has long hair. She meets a dashing young thief and they go on an adventure. See vague.

I've been deliberately/annoyingly light on plot, because the story nuances are what make Tangled fantastic. The writer (Dan Fogelman, based on the Brothers Grimm tale) has adapted the Rapunzel story changing it around to add both adventure and pathos. Within the first ten minutes, it's not only explained why the eponymous heroine has her monstrous barnet, but why and how she's put and kept in her tower. In fact there's absolutely no fat on the back-story, so straight away you're hooked on the tale. At just over 2 hours, it's fairly long for a family animated feature, but it belts along at a fair old pace and doesn't leave you bored.

Now I'm not one of these people who likes to moan about how Disney have lost their prowess at MUSICAL animated features since the early 90s. I really enjoyed Hercules, Tarzan and I loved the last Princess feature The Princess and the Frog (in fact I'll say it was very good and worth a look.) What I will say is since the Lion King in 1994, I haven't seen a Disney musical feature that's managed to give me that special feeling that only a Disney Musical feature can. Where the songs, plot and characters touch you deeply and by the end of the movie you feel like you've had a soul douche. I have to admit a couple of times a wee tear did come to my eye, with my mother and wife sobbing. I hope it's the film and not the two of them realising what they created/have married.

With original music by supremeo Alan Menken with lyrics written by Glenn Slater, you're treated to songs that almost touch on past Disney greatness. I'm maybe being a bit harsh, but with such amazing tunes to his name, I'd be surprised if Menken manages to better songs like the above. Anyway, the music is brilliant with Mandy Moore (Rapunzel) and Donna Murphy (Mother Gothel) being particularly good.

Since I was a wee'un I've always been attracted more to the side players than the leads of Disney films (Stitch probably being the main exception, but let's face it he'd be the comic side character in any other film.) Not long into Tangled you meet Pascal, our heroine's trusty Chamelon sidekick. I am a true sucker for this kind of character, and he manages to steal the show in pretty much every scene he's in. What's great about Tangled is you get another brilliant mute animal side player in commando dog horse, Maximus.

I don't want to give anything away but Maximus partakes in one of the most memorable battle scenes of recent years. Suffice to say all the big laughs come from these two four legged sidekicks, and I guarantee you'll love them both.

Before I sign off I'd just also like to say that I think this (finally) is a case of 3D down well. It's organically used throughout, and helps to bring you further into the world. While I've never had much trouble immersing myself into a film, experiencing the depth of field (especially in some of the musical numbers) really adds to the feature. And I usually really hate the 3D gimmick.

I apologise for the "fluffy" review, but I genuinely enjoyed every minute of this film. It flows beautifully and every piece of the story fits together in a cacophony of excitement, fun and adventure. All four of us were bowled over, and we agreed our change of plans worked out for the best. I've been vague because I truly think you should view this film without knowing more than "it's the Rapunzel story". So if you long for a return to classic Disney stylings, then go see Tangled as soon as you can.

Once Upon a Time There Was a Man Named Matt

So here we are. My Blog.

I bet you're reading this (Mum) and wondering "why has it taken someone who wants to be a writer so long to do a blog?" My reply will at first be the old, I've been really busy with X, Y, and Z, but in reality I'm just a lazy sod.

Most people who "write" will tell you the same story. They have ideas, they have stories to tell, but sitting down to write them is much like going to see the dentist: you should do it, but you never seem to actually get round to it.

I could say "well I'm dyslexic and it's tiring to sit and type away" but again that's mainly a crock of shit. Yes, it is tiring, but if I was to condense down all the rubbish I post on Twitter, Facebook, etc I bet it'd far more than a decent sized blog.

So I've decided to be strict with myself. I'm composing this intro so that there's something here. And I intend to every so often post my ramblings, and some reviews of things I've read/watched/played/eaten. I'll attempt to post at least once a week.

Though saying that, my first child is due next week, so I probably could have chosen a better time to do this.

What I'll say now for posterity, is that I'll always try to be fair with my reviews. I'm at a point now where being horrible doesn't have the same sheen it used to. So even if I don't like something I'll try and be reasonable about it, and explain why. I will say now though, best intentions of mice and men. I'm sure all it'll take is me being offended, and I'll write a maniacal rant at someone's expense.

I used to be someone who liked horrible things, who said and did stuff to shock for a laugh. It's often known as being a complete arsehole. While I'm still naughty and say rude things, I like to think I'm somewhat more measured now. I say somewhat, I do still love making people laugh, so I will act the prat if it gets a giggle.

My "newer" temperament could be down to meeting the right woman, which I do attribute most of my improvements to. I actually think it's that coupled with getting older. When you've upset enough people by being a cock you realise it might be time to change your tune.

So here I am, at the beginning of my blogdom. As I begin I'm a no-one. Not published, working towards it currently. What'll be great is charting my journey to success or failure on here. Hopefully I'll say stuff people will like, if not it's your own fault for reading me.

Love & Kisses, Matt