Controversial Post Alert

Last night a friend of mine demanded that I shared and retweeted her posts saying “Get Ariana Grande to Number One for 22 Weeks, a week for each victim”.

This was my response:

If we have Grande fixed at Number 1 for 22 weeks can we also have Eagles of Death Metal at Number 1 for 89 weeks for those who lost their lives at the Bataclan in the Paris attacks. Man, Woman or Child. An innocent human life is an innocent human life. They had to fight for their spot through sales rather than be fixed because they weren’t mainstream enough. No doubt Grande’s song will be Number 1 for a while because of all the people buying and listening in remembrance but if the sales fall below another song based on perceived merit it should fall it’s proper amount of places. If fixed, in four months you could have a situation where a song (or several) could have sold 200,000 more copies in a week than the Grande track and the DJs and chart holders will have to say “Congratulations Artist you are second this week despite wiping the floor with other artists” and “Well Done Ariana you are this weeks number one by Default, how do you feel?”. A lot of charts write how many of each copy are sold so even if not said on radio/tv the figures will be present. Very nice sentiment behind people wanting it at the top for that long and a lot of respect will be paid to those who were lost but it cannot be a rule for one tragedy and not others surely. A donation of income from the top 22 songs for the next 22 weeks to the Charities related to the incident would be far more symbolic and physically beneficial, showing solidarity amongst all nationalities represented as well as allowing the nature of competition to continue.

She said that “I just thought it would be a nice thing to do”.

Well what else is a nice thing to do? Maybe not Killing People? Just a thought.

If people say that it should happen this time because most of the victims were children. Every victim of every tragedy is a child to somebody. Regardless of age, everybody has a family and everybody has friends…all will never get to see them again.

If people say it’s because they are English. Try telling that to people victimised by the other disasters that their lives aren’t/weren’t as valuable and worthy due to their nationality.

Oh but Ariana’s song of Hope and Togetherness was the last thing that all sang together… The last song played in the Bataclan was the last song that they all sang together, just because they aren’t Mainstream and A List celebrities doesn’t mean they should be treated any differently.

Okay that’s me done on this matter, anyone want to comment and debate against what I’ve said, I’m more than open to a discussion.



Adventures of One #5

It appears that since the Easter Break, I had completely forgotten about this series, so this should be number 5,6 and 7. I am currently unsure if I shall continue this series after the summer but that’s a long while off with plenty of things to enjoy beforehand.

Since the Easter break, long walks have been the main theme between the three adventures on the Tour T’ North.

Firstly, I visited Grindleford, a very small village which seemed to be 90% train station, walking through the forested areas and nature trails nearby. At one point, I was standing at the top of a long slope which appeared to have a 20ft sheer drop to my side. A large buck deer approached the base…then got closer…and began to climb the hillside towards me. Luckily it could smell the fear on me (and possibly flatulence) from a distance and decided that I wasn’t enough of a threat to attack. From there it was pretty calm going hanging out with several sheep and baby lambs making my way around to close out the rather random four hour round trip.

Next up was a jaunt to the coast at Crosby Beach where I initially got lost leaving the train station down the wrong road, taking a half an hour detour before finally finding the sea with the many statues appearing from the sand…all fun and games until you try to take a selfie with one and start descending in to the quicksand. Only real downside to the trip was the shock that despite the attraction it wasn’t very tourist-like only finding a cafe or somewhere to eat at all…straight after buying a large ice cream. And on the subject of icecream, A 99p Flake was ¬£2…WHAT HAS THIS COUNTRY COME TO?!?!?

Lastly, this weekend, I got lost…I mean headed back out in to the wilderness, this time going to Edale. The online guides for the walk said that it was an easy-moderate walk, mostly flat ground…for the first 20 minutes they were spot on… but then the scale of their lies or rather the scale of the climb became apparent. At around 65-70 degrees from the floor, the walk took me up a hillside where I needed to stop every 10 steps through exhaustion. After taking about 15 minutes to do that part I imagined that I would be near the top…oh boy was I wrong. At the top there was a large flatland which looked like a battleground from Lord of the Rings with in the distance yet another higher peak. Eventually I reached it before finding out that I had taken a completely different route to everybody else up there and that I was just following a family who was just as lost as me. The hard work wasn’t even over once I finally reached the top as the route down kept giving way underfoot so I had to climb down part way and help two elderly ladies and their dog down. Still with around half an hour to the bottom, the loose rocky floor took its toll on your ankles and knees as each step sent all of your weight through your shins, at times with it being nearly impossible to slow yourself down. On the way down I made friends with a girl with one of the best trade deals in history, some of my cereal bars while we were up there in exchange for a cold pint of beer at the base. Why can’t every walk be like that?

I’ve been Crag Banna…signing out.

Mental Health Blog #38

A year is a strange term because although its definition is 365.25 days or one completion of the Earth around the sun, it means something different to everybody. Some see it in its literal sense, some start their year on the start of a significant moment, Academic’s years normally last September to May-July, Taxmen’s years are April to April, Sports Fan’s Years are the duration of their League Season and The Chinese start their year either late January or Mid February.

In the next two days, for me, three years will end at once. A year since my last birthday. A year since the best summer and relationship of my life started. An Academic year since the worst period of my life.

And with each one, the starts still feel like yesterday…well maybe last week, but that doesn’t sound as good.

Incidentally both university years, I have had a shockingly bad first semester with a hearty chunk of depression and loneliness thrown in which has then been followed by a brilliant second semester full of socialising and forgetting past trouble as time flew by.

My last birthday I was still wondering what the summer had in store for me, I mostly chilled out feeling a mixture of alone and excited for seeing my friend the day after and go home for the holidays while eating a block of roll-out icing. This year will be much the same, eating icing, doing laundry, packing and being excited about going home after one final night out with my Uni Mates before the summer.

The day previous to that, at the time little did I know how much a “Hey how’s you? xx” message would change my life. I had been suffering from an awful cold, only just making it on my planned trip to Bowness on Windermere (Where I am going again this year). However when I got back in I had that message on my phone from the girl I had got with on New Years Eve, to this day I don’t remember messaging her in the months between New Year and then but my phone and Facebook prove otherwise. On that day she had been with her friend at University, packing things for the summer when talk turned to the summer and whether there was anybody who caught each others eye… that anybody was me and so she tried the opening message. If it wasn’t for that conversation I would have never had the massive highs and ultimate lows. Even with that on several times I thought I had messed it up as without thinking much of it, I took my time between replies and the conversation was boring and slow going. When I went to my friends two days later instead of talking at length about it when we brought up girls like usual it was a mere 5 second mention that she had messaged me. This year, I really cannot see any chance of that happening with anyone yet alone her. Sure there are girls I have spoken on and off with over the past few months and live near me back home and we are on good terms but I would definitely have to make the first move.

The night of September 9th into 10th something shifted massively within me as I had gone from the luxury of seeing and speaking my girlfriend everyday to having to jump straight in to the centre of a major city living far from any friends, being mentally and physically unprepared. It was a major shock. Homesickness, Depression, Anxiety, all of it hit thick and fast. Walking in to the Cycling Centre to fill in Uni registration papers I found myself sitting alone, only really ever speaking to 3 people in there. The cliques and friendship groups were already established from the first year and then there was me…I thought I was going to have to one man army this whole year but thankfully I was taken in as groups were formed for coursework. At the time I was so desperate to get away to my girlfriends with my ultimate present for her, running in the rain of the areas strongest storm for decades for 15 minutes just to reach her. Those days were possibly the last that I will ever hear from her in person. The night when I returned to Manchester I felt utterly terrible, the people who I had hung out with towards the end of the first year knocked for me inviting me out on the town, once again I made an excuse to not go but after they asked why I cracked. I broke down and cried infront of them because the depression had just got so much. I explained it to them and suddenly these demonic party animals became caring and understanding. A day later after coming out to them as depressed, I did the same with my girlfriend and my dad…definitely having mixed results. Arguably it has made my bond with my Dad stronger than ever as he was able to come out about his darker past, his softer side that I had never even thought could be possible, he wasn’t some unbeatable person, he was human… but the same couldn’t be said for my girlfriend, even though she gave me her full support and saying that it wasn’t the reason for our split, a week later after going quiet for a few days on the break up night she admitted that she wasn’t in a position to be able to look after me with things going on in her life. Following the final straw conversation a few days following that she said that a relationship was something that we couldn’t deal with at the time, and that time apart would heal the both of us back in to the people that we both fell in love with as we had both changed. Right now, there’s certainly no sign that we will ever get back together despite her being correct that it was a good healer to have time apart. But as exes go, things aren’t really that bad. Sure you have the How I Met Your Mother break ups where they stay friends mostly, hanging out every day, but in the real world most end up completely cut off from each other. We certainly aren’t, possibly due to the size of social media in our lives but we have each other on Snapchat, unblocked and free to see each other on Facebook, and she still is able to see my posts on Instagram. We aren’t friends but we aren’t enemies, we’ve found a minimum ground, and are okay with seeing each others faces, names and lives pop up on each others’ phones and laptops. If we didn’t want to see those things or simply skip over each other then surely we would have deleted each other from those platforms and kept each other off, and I don’t mean photos as despite removing a couple in February there is still lingering evidence of an “us” out there.

All of this has fuelled the fire of these Mental Health Blogs, crazy (no pun intended) to think that it has been eight months since the first of which.

With her in the woods on a children’s camp all summer it is nigh on impossible to see each other over the summer break. And with me not living alone next Uni Year, and provided I don’t have another summer romance, there will not be a repeat of the down period.

I’m not sure what I will do to fill that gap of time this summer but I have a possible 4 jobs lined up so will give it a good shot, will I descend back in to madness, stay tuned…


I normally keep a list of topics in my phone for me to write about on here as I can’t post straight away everyday and after checking now, I see a bit about special eventing, how drugs have affected my friends ex-girlfriend and why I hate drugs, how someone can be beautiful without make up amongst a couple of other things…but I realise, why do I want to post any of that? It just doesn’t feel right. It may have got me all riled up to say in the moment but not now. Now I see things differently. Now I feel things differently. Just goes to prove that although it’s fine to speak your mind ¬†take some time to check what you’re saying or else it comes out as a mess which even you don’t understand and/or believe in.

I’ve been a very reflective Crag Banna…signing out.

All Cragged Up: Part Two

Since my last relationship, I’ve dated and I’ve partied hard and there’s one thing each time that girls I actually get to see in person say after a couple of hours, “Ooooh you’re quite hot aren’t you?”…HOW DO YOU RESPOND TO THAT?!?! First of all I got to say, I disagree standing here like the annorexic love child of Hagrid and Sloth from Goonies.

Now you can either agree by saying (In a Douchebag Surfer Accent) “Yes, yes I am, I work out. Here are the water pistols (Usain Bolt Pose) but later you’ll be the one squirting”. OR you can disagree in one of three ways. You can refuse to take the compliment and scream “STOP LYING YOU’RE LYING AAAAAAAAAAAAGH”. You can straight up tell them that they are wrong or you can get emotional and on edge thinking that they’re setting you up for something, “Oh? So now I’m hot? Sorry for hiding it for so long like some transforming time bomb, I’ll try be hot from the start next time.”. But there is one thing to get an instant win if this happens to you fellas. Shift the focus on to them, something like (Deep Voice, Smokey Eyed) “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and damn you have some beautiful eyes, I may look hot but when I’m out with you we look like The Elephant Man and Harley Quinn”…Girls love being Harley Quinn.


It’s becoming more popular to name your kids after places of significance to you, mostly holidays. One of the girls I went out with was called Paris, then there’s Brooklyn, London, Cali short for California. For me, I didn’t go on many holidays as a kid so going to University was just like one massive holiday, going out drinking and partying, taking in a few sights, sleep in a bed that is your bed but not actually your bed. I can picture it now with my first born at his nursery with a Mum next to me going “Cooey, bye Florence sweetheart, I’ll see you soon” with her getting all emotional before she turns to me and says, “Aww is that your little one over there?” -Yeah that’s my potato- “He’s adorable, what’s his name?”. (Turn head slightly and with straight expression) “…Burnley”.

Interesting Fact about Burnley, it has it’s own Time Zone ladies and gentlemen. Here it’s 8 o’clock, in Cairo it’s 10 o’clock, in Perth it’s 5 o’clock and in Burnley it’s 1946…still got food rations. No hot water, no electricity and no heating…that’s the premium halls rooms.

My University wasn’t normal, in the first year we had 96 people and 240 all together. 4 Girls in my year along with 92 Guys, it was less of a Uni and more of a brotherhood that lived off Dixy Chicken and Spoons Brekkies. Was just like a male boarding school, but with the Rimjobs coming from Beer Pong… (Cover Butt) Mostly (Cough)…

You do form some tight bonds with everyone in that situation and in the first year my mates were the craziest, most insane bouncing off the wall quartet who will punch me for saying quartet ever…but they took care of you better than anyone. One Tuesday night, all clubs were shut which meant one thing, sitting in the dining room playing odds on dares. Having no idea what was going on as I got more and more drunk I just kept shouting random numbers, having to do odd things but I was so numb that I ended up eating a pot of jam and 2 sachets of Coffee Beans… 2am fine…4 am, heart beating so hard I was vibrating around the room. I was desperate to end it so the guy gave me the one thing they thought of as a cure…weed… the first and only time I ever did drugs… calming drug? Was it f**k? I could see the smell of my heartbeat as I equally cried and laughed myself to sleep…