Monday, 26 December 2011

Casting an eye over Christmas

Well that's it, another Christmas has trudged by and as is often the case I find myself Taking a little time to cast an eye over the whole thing and asses my gratitude.

Right here right now I seem to be getting the greatest of satisfaction from my nice new sheep skin slippers!!! Yep that's right slippers. No longer do I need to search for a mighty high, a twisted and deformed view of reality. Oh no, all I need are a pair of sheepskin slippers.

It's been a good Christmas, yes it has.

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Sunday, 25 December 2011


I wanted to send some sort of holiday greeting to you, but it is so difficult in today's world to know exactly what to say without giving offense. So I met with lawyers, and on their advice I wish to say the following:
Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced with the most enjoyable traditions of religious persuasion or secular practices of your choice with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2012, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make our country great (not to imply that our country is necessarily greater than any other country) and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms:

This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely
transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no
promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for
her/himself or others, is void where prohibited by law, and revocable at the
sole discretion of the wisher. This wish is warranted to perform as expected
within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one
year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever
comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance
of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.

Disclaimer: No trees were harmed sending of this message; however, a
significant number of electrons were slightly inconvenienced.

Saturday, 24 December 2011

They know me here.

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Thursday, 15 December 2011

The unusual width of his nose!!!

It must have been over two years ago when along with Mrs D, I went to our Doctor to point out Jacks eyes were not quite pointing in the right direction. In the usual way these folk do we were told in a quite possibly patronising fashion that he was fine and that in fact his eyes only looked the way they did because of the unusual width of his nose!!!

Turns out this was no the case, not at all. The poor little mite is now going to need glasses until he is at least a teenager, this I must report upsets me somewhat.  Partly because I cant help thinking if they had done the job right when we raised our concerns this might not have happened, and partly because I don't want Jack getting any stick at school because he has glasses.

In truth there is probably very little I can do about any of it. Nevertheless I still need to put in place the necessary  plans to strike down with great vengeance and anger on the first bastard who dares to call my little boy four eyes, specky specky speckerson  or any variation of the above.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Enough said

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Friday, 9 December 2011


Today I got to go to Jack's first nativity play and it was absolutely amazing!!! For the most part he sat picking his nose and gazing into the distance, yet in my eyes he was the most talented and wonderful child on the stage.  He's the one on the left, second row with a red scarf and what looks like a pair of pants on his head. I am a proud Daddy and no mistake. I honestly believe I'll always be that way, I hope so.

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Just for a change.

It would seem I'm spending just a little to much time at the Dentist of late. It's not that I dislike the chap, in fact he's quite nice mostly. It's more a case if enough is enough.

This time round I find myself sitting here so he can asses the damage done but the Hospital last week. I guess I should be happy he can see me so quickly, yet oddly enough, I'm not. Even more strangely, I'd rather be at work. Still at least I get the chance to bolg a little.

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Saturday, 3 December 2011

Friday, 2 December 2011

Thank you me.

Monday it was, bloody Monday and my mouth is still hurting like a Bastard and its Friday. I so very much want to spend some more time wallowing in my little old pit of self pity, oh yes, oh yes in deed.

However, I guess I need to be careful with that sort of thing so instead I'm gona say a little thank you for my new bike, thank you for my new bike.

Not sure who the thank you if for seeing as I paid for the thing, me I guess. Thank you me.

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

A mouth full of stitches

My last blog was written as I sat waiting for some dental surgery yesterday so I guess this is as good a time as any for an update. Update - it didn't go well........

The job at hand was explained to me by the surgeon as "no problem". A couple of big teeth from the back and a root that my dentist couldn't get out. Turns out the back teeth were fairly straight forward, a few stitches that I'm told will happily dissolve in time and a bit of a sore mouth, easy life eh? The root however was very much a different story.

While digging it out they somehow managed to put a hole through to my sinus. That was I must admit, enough for me. Yet some how my most gifted surgeon then managed to lose the afore mentioned root. Not sure where it went he told me, hoping its not gone in one of your lungs. Me to I fucking thought.

Two trips to xray and the missing root proved elusive enough for the finest medical minds to call it a day and send me home. Now I'm left with the oddest of feelings, a mouth full of stitches and a direct passage through my gums into my sinus and out of my nose. That and a big pile of antibiotics as I wait for the impending infection that is sure to follow.   

Monday, 28 November 2011

Its always ok.

So I made it, forty-four years old. The folks who have known me for a while will for sure understand what a truly surprising thing that is. This all happened a few days ago and as is life, I've now moved on. The novelty of hitting 44 was as it should be, short lived. The focus of my attention has changed.

Today I find myself sat in Poole Hospital waiting to go into surgery and have some teeth pulled out. Nothing major, just a quick general anaesthetic, an hour in recovery then all being well homeward bound. That's the plan in the real world, but not in my head, no sir, not in my head.

It's funny how quickly I can move on from the gratitude of hitting 44 to the mental paranoia that sits waiting patently in the back of my head. Truth is its ok, it's always ok. I sit here listening to a share on the Twelve Concepts for World Service, knowing I have a place in this world. That's ok.

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Friday, 18 November 2011

As simple and as wonderfull as my life gets.

Every minute that goes by tonight gets me just a little closer to tomorrow morning, the morning when all being well I will wake up a forty four year old. Forty four years old!!! I'm led to believe I'm gona peak any time soon, just hope I don't miss it.

So with that in mind I was talking to someone today who asked that age old question, what ya doing for your Birthday. My answer was quite frankly boring and dull.

I'd like to hit the recline button on my trusty arm chair and watch some TV with the boy. Latter perhaps a trip to the local harvester for a bit to eat, maybe even some ice cream. Life in the fast lane sure ain't what it used to be.

Who knows, the day might not pan out the way I hope. Maybe I'll end up taking a trip to Clifton and bungee jumping from the suspension bridge. Some how I doubt it, not in these pants.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

I picked up my guitar and played tonight, it was good.

I've never been a great guitarist,  or even an average guitarist if truth be told. Yet despite that I still get a feeling of ease and comfort just about every time I pick one up. Seems no matter what is going on in my little world, my guitar has the power to gently pull me away to a world of my own.

This was not always the case. I remember many years ago getting myself a most wonderful Fender Telecaster. To me this was truly a thing of desire. I always wanted one, and now I had arrived. Clearly I was set to make Robert Johnson sound like some sort of half rate strummer who could hardly play a note.

I would of course be able to do this because I now owned a mighty Telecaster. I never practised or took time to learn, I just looked and imagined how great I would one day be. Funnily enough, no matter how hard I imagined and how hard I looked, I never seemed to get any better. Nor did the amount of money I spent on the thing seem to make my playing any better. (Note to self, amend still owed to the person who paid for that guitar)

So what's changed twenty odd years on? What's changed is I no longer think I can be great at anything without putting in at least a little effort. Even then I'm fairly sure I'm never gona be much more then average in most things. The thing is, and this is an open secret, I'm really, really happy with average. Good enough truly is good enough for me now.

The end result is I get to do the things I do in life with a certain degree of satisfaction. Never needing to be great has given me the freedom to be ever so slightly outstanding once in a great while. The rest of the time I get to be mostly average and general happy. I picked up my guitar and played tonight, it was good.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Don't put your head in toilet seats

Even taking into account the job I have and the clients I work with, the call I received from Mrs D at lunch time today was odd to say the least. The boy has his head stuck in a toilet seat she proudly announced, and I can't get it off.  Mrs D then went on to tell me that she had what could possibly amount to a cunning plan. She was going to butter the boy to within an inch of his life and simply slide the offending item form his head.

A progress report five minutes latter confirmed  the butter ploy had failed and the boy was still stuck fast. Not only was he stuck fast, he was more the slightly aggrieved at his Mothers effort to pull his head off.

At this point I managed to stop giggling just long enough to spring into action. On route I dropped in to B&Q and grabbed a saw. I've got to say it took all I had to keep quiet about the task that lay ahead, but keep quiet I did.

In truth Jack didn't seem his usual cheerful self when I got home, In fact he seemed quite miserable. Despite this I resisted the temptation to leave him to wallow and, saw in hand, I set about freeing my son from the ring of misery.

Surprisingly enough it went quite well. Within a few minutes the boy was free and un marked. With not so much as a thanks he was off and that was that.  It did however get me thinking, as such things most surely can.

The uncertainty of life really is quite a thing and you really never know what is round the corner. If someone had told me this morning I would be cutting the boy free from a toilet seat by lunch time I may well have doubted them, yet I was.

I'm sure there is a message here somewhere, I'm just not sure what it is. Don't put your head in toilet seats I guess.

Friday, 4 November 2011

Dr. Bob’s Farewell Address

“My good friends in AA and of AA, I feel I would be very remiss if I didn’t take this opportunity to welcome you here to Cleveland, and not only to this meeting but to those that have already transpired.  I hope very much that the presence of so many people and the words that you have heard will prove an inspiration to you - not only to you, but may you be able to impart that inspiration to the boys and girls back home who were not fortunate enough to be able to come.  In other words, we hope that your visit here has been both enjoyable and profitable.

I get a big thrill out of looking over the vast sea of faces like this with a feeling that possibly some small thing I did a number of years ago played an infinitely small part in making this meeting possible.  I also get quite a thrill when I think that we all had the same problem.  We all did the same things.  We all get the same results in proportion to our zeal and enthusiasm and stick-to-itiviness.  If you will pardon the injection of a personal note at this time, let me say that I have been in bed five of the last seven months, and my strength hasn’t returned as I would like, so my remarks of necessity will be very brief.

There are two or three things that flashed into my mind on which it would be fitting to lay a little emphasis.  One is the simplicity of our program.  Let’s not louse it up with Freudian complexes and things that are interesting to the scientific mind, but have very little to do with our actual AA work.  Our Twelve Steps, when simmered down to the last, resolve themselves into the words “love” and “service”.  We all understand what love is, and we understand what service is.  So let’s bear those two things in mind.

Let us also remember to guard that erring member the tongue, and if we must use it, let’s use it with kindness and consideration and tolerance.

And one more thing:  None of us would be here if somebody hadn’t taken time to explain things to us, to give us a little pat on the back, to take us to a meeting or two, to do numerous little kind and thoughtful acts on our behalf.  So let us never get such a degree of smug complacency that we’re not willing to extend, or attempt to extend, to our less fortunate brothers that help which has been so beneficial to us.

Given at:
AA’s First International Convention
Cleveland, Ohio
July 30, 1950

Dr. Bob succumbed to cancer on November 16, 1950.

Sunday, 30 October 2011

The need to get over ourselves and get on.

"Experience shows that few alcoholics will long stay away from a group just because they don't like the way it is run. Most return and adjust themselves to whatever conditions they must. Some go to a different group, or form a new one. In other words, once an alcoholic fully realizes that he cannot get well alone, he will somehow find a way to get well and stay well in the company of others." Bill W., Letter, 1943 c.1967AAWS, As Bill Sees It, p. 312

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Sunday, 23 October 2011

Marco Simoncelli and Kitty's Wishing Tree.

I'm a motor sport fan, I love fast cars and I love fast bikes. Always have done, ever since I was a little kid. As a result you can more or less guarantee where I'll be on a F1 or Moto GP race weekend. I hit the reline button on my chair and accompanied by my Son Jack I kick back. This is how it was today as we settled down to watch the Malaysian GP. A race that was to be stopped in the second lap in the most tragic of circumstances. A race where 24 year old Marco Simoncelli was to lose his life.

 A giant of a man who road a GP bike in a blaze of pokey out knees and elbows. He also had a huge, some would say mighty, head of hair. But Christ could he ride a bike.

It's an odd thing how as we become followers of various folk, we develop some kind of attachment. That's how it is with me, that's how come I cried this morning when Marco Simoncelli died, the same way I did in 1994 when Ayrton Senna died. It's times like this when it would be easy to feel down and ask that age old question, Why?

This afternoon we all jumped in the car and set off for a Sunday afternoon walk. Not really having much of a plan we ended up wondering through some local woods and came across "Kitty's Wishing Tree".

I have absolutely no idea who Kitty is (or possibly was) but stumbling across this tree covered in the wishes of so many before us really did warm my heart, even the one that said "I wish saleem was dead".

You see this is, as far as I can see, it. We live our lives and we make our wishes, once in a great while they come true. Sometimes when they come true great things happen, sometimes tragic things and sometimes nothing. The point is if we let then our wishes can be wonderful amazing things. We show up, we do our best and we deal with the consequences, good or bad.


Friday, 21 October 2011

Just something I like

"Let us never fear needed change.
Certainly we have to discriminate between changes for worse
and changes for better.
But once a need becomes clearly apparent
in an individual, in a group, or in AA as a whole,
it has long been found out that we cannot stand still
and look the other way.
The essence of all growth is a willingness
to change for the better
and then an unremitting willingness
to shoulder whatever responsibility this entails
Bill W., July 1965
c.1967AAWS, As Bill Sees It, p. 115

Saturday, 15 October 2011

The 'we' version.

Anyone who has ever attended a Twelve Step meeting will be most familiar with the Serenity Prayer. We say it time and time again. I wonder however, how many say it as it is written in the 12x12. The 'we' version of this wonderfully prayer, for me, rounds up what the whole thing is about. Alone I'm screwed, together in fellowship I have a chance. Don't be surprised if you see a nice big, new 'we' version of the serenity prayer next time you get to Ringwood on a Thursday night.

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Friday, 14 October 2011

I still find the misfortune of others hilarious

It's odd that after almost nine years trying to become a spiritual giant I still find the misfortune of others hilarious. A man who has been mistakingly popping his post in a dog shit bin is for me truly side splitting. As is a man walking into a lamppost or falling down a manhole. I hope I never stop laughing as such things.

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Wednesday, 12 October 2011

As if it's gona be different,

It's been a few hours, a few long and painful hours. Tonight I've been mostly trying to install iso 5 on my iphone. Those of you who know will appreciate the importance of this. Time and time again it has failed and time and time again I have continued trying as if it's gona be different, It wasn't. I know (or at least I think I know) what I need to do but I'm buggered if I can work out how to do it. How do I find and then delete the downloaded ios from itunes so I can start again and hopefully get rid of the glitch? Fucked if I know.

So here I sit with a head full of high class problems wondering how I'm going to get to sleep no having iso 5 on my phone. Then out of nowhere it hits me, what the fuck am I doing? what the fuck am I thinking?

You see when I finally got clean I made a deal. I'll give of myself as freely as I can at any given point for as long as I can at any given point. Simple. This of course was long before iso 5, of iso of any sort. Nevertheless the guiding principle remains the same. Get the fuck out of self and I'll be ok.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

So far up our own arse holes

Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, television and films. 

It's a funny old Tradition that one. Of course I understand why it's needed and I know the history behind it's development. However, it seems to me that the overwhelming desire to get so far up our own arse holes can easily prevent us from carrying the message that saved our lives.

Anonymous and secret are different things. As readers of this blog know, I've been in recovery for a number of years now and an active member of a Twelve Step fellowship. The link below will take you to the Cocaine Anonymous 2012 World Convention page. Have a look, it's gona be quite a thing. 

Thursday, 6 October 2011

Come and have a look

This turned out to be a woefully foolish mistake.

You can either have a filling or I can simply pull the tooth, that's what he said, "simply pull the tooth".
Now, as some of you know, I'm a lover of all things simple so with this in mind I instructed my trusty Dentist to as he said "simply pull the tooth". This turned out to be a woefully foolish mistake.

In truth I should have ran for the hills when he told me it was turning out to be harder then first thought. Of course by then it was far to late. Three roots on this tooth he said and it's not keen on coming out, not fucking keen? not fucking keen!!!

The conversation then took what I believe to be a turn for the worst. The man with the pliers explained he was going to need to cut my tooth into three parts and take one bit at a time with its corresponding root.  Few words can express the joy such a statement evokes. In truth my regret was only increased when after an hour he started working on the third and final remaining root and told me it had fused to the bone and would have to stay where it was. Probably won't give you any trouble in the future though he said. This from the same man who told me an hour earlier he could simply pull the tooth. I have to say I'm not filled with hope, not even slightly.

So here I am two days latter still feeling like I've been kicked in the face and wondering to my self why I trusted the man in the white coat with the face mask on. What is it that makes anyone trust such a person? especially when he's heading towards your mouth with a pair of pliers?

Saturday, 1 October 2011

Thank you for listening.

Just been mooching about the new blogger interface and noticed my little old blog has been looked at by over eight thousand people since I started gently rambling on a couple of years ago. And that in turn got me thinking, why? You see the thing is I sill have this deep seated belief that no one wants to listen to the shit I go on about, mostly because it has very little substance and is mostly light and of no real consequence. Then I realized that's exactly the sort of stuff I like to listen to and even from time to time read.

Sometimes it seems the whole world are taking themselves just a tad to seriously and that's where  something and nothing starts to sound appealing. Blogs about people in history with big hats, great philosophers, the size of flairs in the seventies have all clicked their way from my trusty macbook outward to anyone bothered to have a look. And that I guess is why more then a few have dropped into The World of Dobbo and had a look. It's not a ground breaking blog, It's not going to change the word, however, it might put a smile on someone's face and that can seldom be a bad thing. If you happen to be one of the people who have returned to look again, I hope it's made you smile and thank you for listening. 

Saturday, 24 September 2011

Got a QR reader?

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Thursday, 22 September 2011

I remember

It was over twenty years ago when my Mum died. Like many before and since she was diagnosed with cancer and soon she was gone. I find as time has gone on I've remembered less and less, I even find myself feeling guilty about that sometimes. Is that normal?

Even so It's funny how some things stick clear in my mind. I can remember vividly getting the call from my Nan to tell me my Mum had been diagnosed. I remember Tracy sat next to me on the bed in the shared house we lived in, the Yamaha DT125LC outside and the fact my dear old Nan couldn't stop crying. I also remember thinking It's probably not that big a deal. I was of course very much mistaken. It was a big deal, it truly was and sometimes still is.

The picture above was posted by a friend of my sisters (she's the one in the middle) on facebook today. For me this is a most wonderful thing. I never got to hang on to many photos of my Mum after she died and this is one I had never seen until today. The mixture of joy and sorrow it shot through my heart has been quite something. Not a nasty something, just a something. I find myself yet again thinking back and remembering my Mum. The way she would hold me and tell me everything would be ok, that look in her eye so filled with unconditional love, so unmistakable, so real.

As the years have passed I have, from time to time found myself forgetting this stuff, even sometimes forgetting my Mum. Tonight as I sit here this is not the case, not even nearly. And this is a good thing, an amazing this.  I was told everything would be ok, and you know what? it is.

Tuesday, 20 September 2011

Found in our bin shed

The image on the right was found in our bin shed. I have resisted the temptation to keep it, nevertheless it's an intresting thing to look at.

I'm not the sort of chap that claims to know anything about art. If this is what art is I've got to say its all a bit on the odd side. Even so its an interesting thing to look at.

So with that in mind my contribution to the world of art, at least on my blog is this. I don't have a clue what it's called or even who made it. I don't even know if it's still in my bin shed. What I do know is it's an interesting thing to look at. Did I say that already?

Sunday, 11 September 2011

With my arse hanging out the back of a hospital gown

Being the tenth anniversary of 9/11, I posted a thing on facebook today asking what people were doing ten years ago today. The answers were as you might expect wide and varied, and as is often the case it got me thinking about what I was up to a decade ago.

For me things were not that great. I had developed an infection in my groin and leg as the result of intravenous drug use. In Gloucester Hospital with suction packs all over the place and hardly able to stand let alone walk, I remember seeing it on the telly in the smoking room (yep they had them then) and thinking wow, what a thing, now how can I get out of here and score.

On more then one occasion I could be found making a break for Gloucester town centre  wheeling a dip behind me. I remember thinking how unfair it was that they "made" me do this instead of prescribing me injectable morphine. This was a common theme for me. It's nice it's not like that anymore.   

Tuesday, 6 September 2011

Everything and nothing

The last few days have been nice, very nice to be honest. Together with the Boy and Mrs D I've spent some time in a caravan near Weston super mare. I've done everything and nothing all at the same time but now it's over, at least very nearly over. As the minutes tick away the realisation floods in that this time tomorrow I'll be back at work. This I must admit is a bit of a bugger right about now.

Nevertheless tomorrow I will return to work, I'll do the best I can do and I've got to say there is a more then fair chance I'll enjoy it. This is the way it's been for quite a while now and my hope is that it'll stay this way for sometime to come.

For now I plan to make my way to the industrial standard narrow band light box at my local hospital and work on topping up my sun tan. A treatment I have for my skin that allways seems to leave Mrs D a little on the envious side.

Good enough really since she's off to see Dolly Parton tonight and I most surely am not. Without sounding too much of a girl, I'd go if I could.

Back to my point. A few days doing everything and nothing have been great. So much so I thing I'll do it again.

Sunday, 21 August 2011

The air show.

Every year we have a free air show here in Bournemouth and for those impressed with things of an air show ilk, its quite a thing. I'm the sort of person who is kind of impressed with things of an air show ilk and so kind of impressed with the Bournemouth air show.

Of course I'd like to say it's just because I like to take the boy, but in truth I found myself up there on my own Friday watching the Red Arrows and feeling every bit the excited child. I get like that when I watch the jets and I love The Red Arrows.

Skip forward a day and my plan to take the boy for the Lunch time Red Arrow show was scuppered by a bit of extra time in bed and a boiled egg for breakfast. This worried me not because I felt sure we would make the last show on Sunday afternoon. Safe and secure in this knowledge the Dobbos headed into town for a while. 

The first Police car that raced by went mostly unnoticed. Then as more and more Police, fire engines and ambulances  raced pass it became fairly obvious that something was not as it should be. Mrs D even said she thought someone had crashed at the air show. Turns out they had. In a field close to the Dobbos humble abode a Red Arrow had come down. This was unbelievable enough but adding the fact that the pilot had died made it all seen almost unbelievable.

This got me thinking. Obviously this is all very sad, in fact its absolutely fucking tragic. But why, I wonder do I find myself feeling so chocked up about the whole thing? Truth is I don't know and to be perfectly honest, I don't particularly care. This is the thing about emotions, about being able to feel and be in touch with it. It's the old treatment centre thing. The good news is you get your feelings back, the bad news is you get your feeling back. Bit of a bugger sometimes.

Saturday, 20 August 2011

Once more.

"Once more: The alcoholic at certain times has no effective mental defense against the first drink. Except in a few rare cases, neither he nor any other human being can provide such a defense. His defense must come from a Higher Power."

Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition, More About Alcoholism, pg. 43

So Many times I've tried to think myself out of that next drink, the next use up. It wasn't until I really started to comprehend the statement above that I was able to at least make a start. His defence must come from a higher power. MUST.

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Tuesday, 9 August 2011

I've survived four years marriage

It seems to me this green and pleasant land of ours has gone just a tad bananas. The city's are rioting for yet another night and the folk inclined, are doing just about exactly what they want with no fear of consequence. I will of course resist the temptation to point out what a selfish bunch of twats these people are, yes I will.

In times like this it normally helps to have a look at what I have in my life, my home, my town. In a couple of hours I will have survived four years marriage to the most wonderful Mrs D. Four years!!! That I really must report is quite a thing.

It got me thinking what the secret to a successful marriage is, assuming of course my marriage is successful. I'm guessing it is simply because it's lasted so long.

I suppose it's the same solution I've found in other areas of my life. Complete and utter surrender. I have a t shirt with the game over image that was given to me by my best man shortly after I got married. I've worn it many, many times in the last four years and it has truly served me well. As has the principle of total and utter surrender. Some times being done is a great thing.

Sunday, 7 August 2011

Thats that.

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Monday, 1 August 2011

My pathological hatred for anything camp related

So the Dobbo's have just returned from our first ever caravaning expedition and I've got to say it was a decidedly enjoyable experience. This I must say came as a complete surprise to me. It's fair to say that I'm not the type who puts up with any degree of roughing it when a good nights sleep is concerned. I'm a big fan of hotel rooms and for that matter room service. Add to that my pathological hatred for anything camp related and you get some sort of idea about how i (as they say) roll.

However, despite this I found myself really quite enjoying the whole caravaning experience. Granted the caravan is hardly a year old, the awning on the side of it is bigger then a lot of the bedsits I've lived in and my most wonderful in-laws took care of us like royalty.

The up shot is I get the feeling I might just be a bit of a natural. The offer to use this most marvellous home on wheels has been neatly placed on the table and I suspect the Dobbo's will be gratefully taking full advantage of it.  

Friday, 29 July 2011

In the beginning there was Jack

I'm not all together sure I remember what Life was like before Jack. Of course I like to think I do, I like to imagine a time of care free abandon when I would skip naked through the trees with Mrs D safe and secure in the knowledge we didn't have a care in the world. I think I even wrote a song about it once.

Then came the boy!!!
In truth Jack coming along was the end of everything and nothing all at the same time. Make of that what you will and if you make anything of it please let me know.

So now here we are.
In the beginning there was Jack and I for one can tell you it, like him, is the greatest thing in the world.

Whats in a name 1

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Whats in a name 2

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Whats in a name 3

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Tuesday, 26 July 2011

You could lose your balls at any moment

Back in the day there once existed a chunk of cast iron technology known as the Raleigh Chopper. A masterful bit of cycling wizardry built to kill, or at least castrate anyone foolish enough to mount it. The cunningly positioned gear changer became known as the nut taker to all brave enough to sit astride this mighty beast.  A big back wheel and small front ensured immanent speed wobbles and the no passengers warning on the seat were to be quite honest, bloody pointless.

However, the thing was truly a marvel to many of us growing up in the seventies. In a time before health and safety, before hard hats and carbon fibre finger braces, the chopper was a way to get closer to God, to your own mortality and so to life. That out of control feeling as one of these machines hit a speed wobble at twenty miles an hour, the knowledge you could lose your balls at any moment or fly head first through the handlebars did, for sure give life new meaning. It was a sad day when the last original chopper rolled off the production line. A sad day indeed.     

Tuesday, 19 July 2011


Tomorrow the Dobbo's are off (minus the boy) on a road trip to Canterbury. A dear friend has just got through university and we are going to clap and take photos. At least that's what I think goes on at that sort of thing, what ever that sort of thing is.

It's got me thinking, thinking about the place we met and more importantly the people. A number of years ago a happy little band of us bumped into each other in a rehab by the sea. For those who don't know, rehab is polite talk for total fucking nut house.

From my point of view it was a great place to be. I found a wife, a best man, God father for Jack and up till now a couple of life long friends. I also of course found how to walk very softly from room to room in the dead of night. It was there I perfected my now famous stealth mode. Famous at least in the Dobbo household.

It's an odd thing how fate (if that's what you want to call it) can put a bunch of people together and total change the direction their life was going. My trip to the asylum did that and no mistake. I've got to say I'm mostly pleased about that.

Friday, 15 July 2011

Even if

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Sunday, 10 July 2011

My Family

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What a weekend

For the most part I get to have the most amazing weekends. Normally things are really relaxed and as a general rule they pass without event or stress. But not this time.

Yesterday was spent getting the car fixed after it's recent MOT. In truth our trusty little motor got of lightly, nevertheless repairs were needed and as is often the case, it cost a bastard fortune.

Today was a much cheaper affair and for that I'm greatfull. Yet despite this I still find myself looking back on the day and feeling it wasn't that great. Is this the truth? Well to be honest, no, no it's not. The truth is the day was ok, just ok.

Towards the end of the day I got to stroll down by the beach with Mrs D and the boy. I got to spend time with my family and I got to put my feet up and at long last relax. What a weekend.

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Thursday, 7 July 2011

Track of the day.

A little while ago Mrs D took on a new obsession that involved collecting and building wooden train tracks for the boy. At first I must admit, I didn't quite understand. But I do now. Last night as the boy slept soundly and Mrs D was out, I found myself building yet another track of the day. Yet another creation fashioned in wood with all the cunning of a fox. Turns out that building wooden train tracks is not only mighty satisfying, but also dam relaxing. I might even do it again tomorrow.

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Wednesday, 6 July 2011

Now I remember why I do this

I haven't written a thing on here for a few weeks, partly because I've not had anything to say, and partly because I simply couldn't be arsed. Actually, that's not true, I've always got something to say, mostly it's shite but nevertheless I've still got something to say. So that leaves me wondering what I've got to say right about now, and for that matter, If it's worth saying.

I find myself wondering how often I say stuff just for the sake of it, just because I don't much like the sound of silence. I know people who love the quiet, Mrs D is like that, but not me. For me silence gets really, really loud.
I've try'd to like it, I really have. All the spiritual giants seem to imply silence has some kind of deeper level connection with spirituality.  For me that all seems a bit on the bullshit side. Bullshitisum if you will. In fact I might have just developed another branch of spirituality known hence forth as bullshitisum. It's defined by the fact its very, very loud.

On the other hand, maybe bullshitisum is no more the bullshit. Or maybe I just needed to find a reason to write bullshit repeatedly for a few minutes.  What I am getting the chance to remember is the value in simply writing. Writing without having to workout what I'm gona say before I say it. Writing without worry about who will read it, of what they (or you) will think. Writing just to write, just to blog. Now I remember why I do this.

Sunday, 19 June 2011

A potty that proved elusive.

Fathers day 2011 has been, up till now, the best Fathers day I have ever had. Why? simply because my three year old jack made me a card (granted with some help from his Mum) and wished me a happy fathers day. Simple, so very simple.

All this dispute the fact that the wife dragged me round some God forsaken car boot sale for what seemed like hours in search of some sort of wondrous potty for the boy. A potty that proved elusive. 

Tonight before he went to bed Jack again wished me a happy fathers day and gave me a kiss good night. It's odd that after years searching for this and that, I find myself given total contentment from a few words and a cuddle. It's been a great fathers day and being a father is great.

Monday, 13 June 2011

I like Cycling

Sunday, 12 June 2011

Keep me occupied until my illness has passed

Quite a week it's been, quite a fucking week. After almost a year, some stuff hanging over my head has been dealt with and I've got to say, its a relief, a mighty relief. Yet despite this, I still find myself up at some un Godly hour unable to sleep yet again.

The problem started a little over a week ago when I picked up some sort of bug. I suspect it was a chest infection of sorts and for sure it was and for that matter still is, a bastard. Of course Mrs D has given me a hard time about my constant moaning, but for the sake of fuck, enough is enough.

The trouble is, like a lot of men, I have the idea that if I tell you I'm ill enough times I'll feel better. Truth is often I do. And even if I don't, at least I have something to keep me occupied until my illness has passed. Well not this time, not this fucking time in any way.

This time dispute all the pissing and moaning in the world, I'm still ill, still ill I say. And with very little sign of feeling better. Even to the point that I can't sleep because of the relentless coughing. This upsets me so, it really does. I had it the night before last and woke Mrs D up to tell her, she seemed upset with this so tonight I'm telling you. Tomorrow (Sunday) I have to drive to London at 8am, sit in committee meetings all day and don't expect to be home until around ten that night. Bugger!!!!

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

The wonderful things in life

1974, that's when it was, 1974. I was happily trotting through my seventh year and as far as I can remember, things were good.

I find myself sat in front of the telly tonight watching the planet of the apes film that came out a few years ago,  drifting back in my mind to those Friday nights in the last few months of 74 and thinking how careful I need to be not to miss the wonderful things in life.

The one and only memory I have of sleep walking happened on one such Friday night. We were staying at friends and I had been sent to bed most disgruntled about not being able to stay up and watch the telly, the black and white telly. I don't remember walking anywhere, I just remember waking up in my Mums arms, safe, warm and happy. Turns out that night was to be one of the enduring and till now everlasting memories of my Mum.

Now all these years latter I get to see this sort of thing unfold in Jacks life. The building of memories and feelings that could well last for years and years to come. My part in all this? well I'm convinced my part is to make dam sure I don't miss these most wonderful things, the wonderful things in life.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

The folk involved shine

I got to play a very small part in a charity cycle ride today that a dear friend had arranged some months ago. It was to make a few quid for a charity call Leaf  Very much in the minds of those taking part today was the fact that my friends partner passed away less then a week ago. Talk about an emotional roller-coaster...

The ride involved almost forty miles through the new forest with the majority of those taking part a little rusty on two wheels to say the least. Being a bit of a cycling pro I opted to take charge of one of the support vehicles and stayed firmly on four wheels. This gave me the chance to see the rest of the folk involved shine in a way I seldom get the chance to see people do. It truly was a privilege.

On the back of that, today has given me the chance to stop for just a few seconds and pay just a little attention to the people around me, the people I choose to call my friends. The result? the result is I find myself sat here considering my self to be one amazingly fortunate chap. If I want to see amazing things happening, I need only look to the people around me. Cool eh?  

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Mind numbing

Mid afternoon today I got a call from Mrs D to tell me that our beloved son Jack had a fit at playgroup and they were on the way to Poole hospital. Following the ambulance gave me time to fully consider the absolute panic and mind numbing fear such things bring. Unfortunately for me mind numbing fear does not tend to numb my mind, in fact the opposite.

Recently two of the people I'm close to have lost people close to them. As a result I find myself even more sensitive and dare I say more paranoid then ever. Of course this has very little to do with the real word, but when my head runs with this shit I am no more then a passenger. 

The upshot of the whole day is Jack is now home and safely tucked up in bed. Unfortunatly a recent temp check has showed up as being a little on the low side. This obviously means a long, long night of constant checking to ensure the little chap stays warm and safe. A call only moments ago to NHS Direct has to some degree settled my mind at least slightly. So the fear will no doubt continue and the night will be long. So what? the truth is I, like most parents will do what ever is necessary to keep my child safe and that is so very simply that.

Friday, 20 May 2011

3000 Days.

providing I don't do anything monumentally stupid in the next few hours, I will have made it through three thousand days clean and sober. Three thousand fucking days!! I've got to tell you all this is a big deal for someone like me, a big deal.

Now of course I'm well aware my part in all this has been fairly minimal.  I've done some stuff and followed some (not all) guidance, but mostly I've just done the best I could honestly do. And thats been good enough.

That in it's self is enough to get my attention, but what really blows me away is the amount my life has changed as a result of being clean and sober. It's mostly good, often excellant and seldom shit. The way things are going I might even make it to 3001.

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

With his facial hair

A German man scooped the title of world's best beard on Sunday after impressing competition hosts in Norway with his facial hair featuring a moose and a Norwegian flag.

Hairdresser Elmar Weisser, 47, beat 160 hopefuls from 15 countries to take first prize in the World Beard and Moustache Championship, held this year in Trondheim.

I can't help thinking that if your going to go for any sort of worlds best, a beard and moustache must surely be the way to go. sadly its not a road I'm ever likely to travel. I had a tash for a few years in the mid eighties but to be honest, it was piss poor at best. As I must say was my hair cut. Maybe thats just the way it was in the eighties. Either way you can't take anything away from a beard and moustache champion.