Not really fussed on cars. But it would probably be like an Aston Martin. Or a big TORCHWOOD range rover
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Monday, 21 February 2011
Who is the most important person in the world to you?
I can't really narrow the entire importance of my life down to one single person. It's just impossible. There are so many different people who make a difference to my existence, for good and evil. Who would you choose? A member of your family? Possibly, for the fact that they might have been there for you since you were a child; they might have brought you up, given you a home, clothing, food and money. Certainly my family have supported me in my doings. They've given me lifts to places I needed to be. They've never stopped loving me as part of them - even though they might disagree with some of my life choices and actions. They still support me because they care about me. I mean a lot to them. And they to me. I wouldn't be here without them; for both good and bad reasons. ...but life reasons. But the question is, if you're going to narrow it down, which one? Which person from your family?
This is a very hard question.
I've been thinking about it for the past few hours...
...My dad.
My dad's the most important person in the world to me, out of my family. He's always tried to push me. And I've been doing a lot of fighting back. We all have, in my family. He's always had these strange ideas of what he's going to do. Crazy ideas. Ideas that others would stop and think "why the hell is he doing that?" ... But he has the drive and determination to do them, or at least have a good crack at it. Even if it takes a long long time, he'll do his best to see it through. A lot of people look at things and think to themselves that they'll never succeed; that everything will fall flat on its face, so there's no point in trying. No hope in starting. But he's not one for giving up, my Dad. And I'm proud of him for that.
We all go through hell and back. We all get told not to do the things we do. Because they're daft. Because we'll "never succeed". But not him. If he's got a goal, he'll go straight for it, or at least, find the easiest and cheapest method of accomplishing it.
When any of us have needed something, like money to go somewhere or get something we needed, to move on to the next stage, he'd help out.
There have been times when we've just not gotten on. Mostly due to me being ignorant and not wanting to listen. When we're young, we want to rebel. We want to do what WE want to do, and that's great. But sometimes we blind ourselves to the problems our parents and families are going through, just so that we can go off and have fun. We deliberately shut out the people who've brought us to this point. Why?? Because we're pig headed.
When I came out to my family about being bisexual, he said nothing. He didn't shout. He didn't utter a word. Not even a mention... and that means so much to me. Where the others turned and sneered and talked of it being wrong or sinful or whatever. An unmentionable thing, against their religion. I'm a poofter. A ponce. I hang around with the dirty and deprived and sexually transmitted sinful and diseased lot.
He said nothing.
In fact, he's more in tune with the world around; that you cannot call people these names, or treat people who are different in this manor. Because today's world does not allow it. Even if he doesn't agree with me being bisexual, he leaves me to make the choices I will. No verbal back-talk. None of "I pray you'll find a girlfriend" or "Do you still work in that den of STD's?" (a gay bar).
He says nothing. And even just by saying nothing, it means the world to me. Because it means he still loves and cares about me as a son. And that means I can love him back as a dad.
We've never really did much for his birthdays. We never really did much for him, which I'm slightly ashamed of. But after all the palarva of coming out to my family... after all that stress and drama... things have started to turn around. On his previous birthday just gone, the family were going to do nothing. So I figured it was time to give something back to him. I bought him and everyone a meal in the Prince of Wales Wetherspoons, in Cardiff; with drinks and desert too. Now that I have a full time job, I can afford to do things I've wanted to do, to a certain extent. But what I wanted most was for him to have a great birthday. Something he should have had a long time ago.
I now even give him a hug when seeing him off. That's something my brothers NEVER do. Something he's never had off us.
When you allow someone to be themselves instead of forcing them to do things and controlling their lives and decisions... they'll turn around and thank you for it. Even love you for it. I owe a lot to my dad. To my Mum as well but, to narrow it down... My Dad. And I love him very much.
What about you? Who's the most important person in the world to YOU?
Peace out, John Hutch
Friday, 18 February 2011
Thursday, 17 February 2011
How many Jack Russell dogs do you think you could fit in an air balloon basket?
As many as you can, please! I'm not fond of them lol I prefer proper dogs like sheep dogs and border collies
What song best describes your life right now?
Kung Fu Fighting lol - fighting to get where I want to be
Are you ever two faced?
Yeah, I can be. We all have differing thoughts and opinions about people we know. We just don't say the bad things to their face because we don't want to hurt them. Unless they really piss us off, in which case we just let rip
What's the first thing that you usually notice about someone you meet?
Great body / gorgeous face / amazing eyes, hair and kissable lips
Monday, 14 February 2011
Valentine's Day
Here we go again, another Valentine’s Day. I’ve never really done anything with it. Well, apart from two years ago when I went over a gay friend’s place in London. I had an incredibly strong man-crush on him. We didn’t do anything; we were pretty much mates and I was too afraid and reserved at the time because I wasn’t uncertain about my sexuality. It was all really new to me, but I played the “good friend” card – much better that way. We hung out for the day. He cooked bolognese for us both and we watched his Doctor Who fan films on his laptop. After that we just went to bed. I say bed. He was in his bed and I was in my sleeping bag on the hard carpet floor. Like I said, we were good friends. So yeah, nothing happened.
We hadn’t gotten off to a good start either. That morning, I’d accidently left my bank card in the PIN machine at W.H. Smiths in Newport rail station. I only realised after the train pulled into Paddington and I couldn’t find it to purchase a travel ticket for the London Underground. Luckily though, time and fate had landed me with just enough cash to survive the weekend. My friend paid for a lot of the things – mostly food shopping. I did feel really bad about it. I paid him back after though. And we’re still good friends.
But yeah, apart from that one incident, I’ve never really done anything for Valentine’s Day.
What about You? Do you have a Valentine's story?
Monday, 7 February 2011
Spooky
The other day, I went to Cardiff Castle for the very first time. I got in for free because I get a city pass for working in Nando's in St David's 2, which is brilliant - I can now go in whenever I like :D
Unfortunately, they were doing some repair work to a section of the castle, due to weather problems, and so most of the castle was shut off. But they did have a tour going on. I just managed to catch the last one. The castle was impressive, to say the least. The tour guide, lovely chap, took us to some of the great rooms and delivered a spiel about the history and important facts - a spiel, you could tell, he'd been reciting ALL day, EVERY day for as long as he'd lived there. And as much as he made it out to be interesting, he told it in a manor of obviousness, possibly even a tiny hint of boredom. But the history of the castle and indeed the design of the interior rooms was rather spectacular - very "Gothic Revival" in design. And very Catholic too (these people obviously used to sit on spikes!)
The final room of the tour was a great library, full of books (well obviously) and contained a large fireplace. The tour ended here with chances of questions. The Guide was rather hoping we'd ask him something, as everyone had been silent on the whole tour - bit like walking around a dead place. At first I enquired as to the meaning (translation) of some of the ornate carvings above the fireplace. He wasn't sure completely, but he knew they must all be different forms of the alphabet. And then, because nobody else was asking, I posed the question "Any ghost stories?"
This seemed to wake him up a lot. Something that actually interested him, instead of repeated facts about "the history of this chunk of wood". He'd never seen a ghost himself, but he had an open mind. He'd heard a lot of ghostly happenings from other security guards in the castle. Especially people on the night shifts. People have seen Monks in the courtyard, a lady walking the corridors... Some have even been tapped on the shoulder by something that wasn't there.
We stood debating the subject for a good 15 minutes - best part of the tour. Then the Guide had a moment of inspiration. He decided to take us to a small marble room (which wasn't part of the tour) where, a hundred or so years ago, a Lord of the castle was found dead from an apparent heart attack. The room was cold. It used to be the Lord's dressing room at the time, so it would probably have been warmer. But now it was redecorated to look like a marble catholic prayer room - angels on the ceiling and walls - very cold and unwelcoming. In fact, this room was the coldest in the whole castle.
The Lord was found dead on a chaise lounge under an archway in the corner. But today, the place where he was found is replaced with a marble pillar and bust of his father's head - so that his father can watch over him, even in death.
At first, I thought I felt a presence in the corner of the room by the door; very slight and gentle, as if someone was just stood there. 'Could this be the dead lord?' I wondered to myself. But then I decided to take a closer look at the pillar - the death spot. The moment I got close to that thing, I felt something I'd never felt before. A repelling force. It was as if something was trying to push me away, like a magnet field. Almost like running into an invisible wall.
But to force my hand through that barrier, I picked up something bizarre. Static. An incredible charge of static energy that made my hand tingle - like putting your hand next to a well charged TV screen or wearing a magnet around your wrist. My hand soon felt as if I'd been lying on it. The blood tingled. That feeling was nowhere else in the room. Just around the pillar where the body was found. It was almost like a living thing.
Afterwards, we left the room and the tour came to an end. The castle itself was closing for the day. I walked with two guys who were also on the tour - both of them were ghost hunters, and we talked about ghostly encounters; orbs, psychic attacks, Azazel... it was a most bizarre evening.
Unfortunately, they were doing some repair work to a section of the castle, due to weather problems, and so most of the castle was shut off. But they did have a tour going on. I just managed to catch the last one. The castle was impressive, to say the least. The tour guide, lovely chap, took us to some of the great rooms and delivered a spiel about the history and important facts - a spiel, you could tell, he'd been reciting ALL day, EVERY day for as long as he'd lived there. And as much as he made it out to be interesting, he told it in a manor of obviousness, possibly even a tiny hint of boredom. But the history of the castle and indeed the design of the interior rooms was rather spectacular - very "Gothic Revival" in design. And very Catholic too (these people obviously used to sit on spikes!)
The final room of the tour was a great library, full of books (well obviously) and contained a large fireplace. The tour ended here with chances of questions. The Guide was rather hoping we'd ask him something, as everyone had been silent on the whole tour - bit like walking around a dead place. At first I enquired as to the meaning (translation) of some of the ornate carvings above the fireplace. He wasn't sure completely, but he knew they must all be different forms of the alphabet. And then, because nobody else was asking, I posed the question "Any ghost stories?"
This seemed to wake him up a lot. Something that actually interested him, instead of repeated facts about "the history of this chunk of wood". He'd never seen a ghost himself, but he had an open mind. He'd heard a lot of ghostly happenings from other security guards in the castle. Especially people on the night shifts. People have seen Monks in the courtyard, a lady walking the corridors... Some have even been tapped on the shoulder by something that wasn't there.
We stood debating the subject for a good 15 minutes - best part of the tour. Then the Guide had a moment of inspiration. He decided to take us to a small marble room (which wasn't part of the tour) where, a hundred or so years ago, a Lord of the castle was found dead from an apparent heart attack. The room was cold. It used to be the Lord's dressing room at the time, so it would probably have been warmer. But now it was redecorated to look like a marble catholic prayer room - angels on the ceiling and walls - very cold and unwelcoming. In fact, this room was the coldest in the whole castle.
The Lord was found dead on a chaise lounge under an archway in the corner. But today, the place where he was found is replaced with a marble pillar and bust of his father's head - so that his father can watch over him, even in death.
At first, I thought I felt a presence in the corner of the room by the door; very slight and gentle, as if someone was just stood there. 'Could this be the dead lord?' I wondered to myself. But then I decided to take a closer look at the pillar - the death spot. The moment I got close to that thing, I felt something I'd never felt before. A repelling force. It was as if something was trying to push me away, like a magnet field. Almost like running into an invisible wall.
But to force my hand through that barrier, I picked up something bizarre. Static. An incredible charge of static energy that made my hand tingle - like putting your hand next to a well charged TV screen or wearing a magnet around your wrist. My hand soon felt as if I'd been lying on it. The blood tingled. That feeling was nowhere else in the room. Just around the pillar where the body was found. It was almost like a living thing.
Afterwards, we left the room and the tour came to an end. The castle itself was closing for the day. I walked with two guys who were also on the tour - both of them were ghost hunters, and we talked about ghostly encounters; orbs, psychic attacks, Azazel... it was a most bizarre evening.
Do YOU have a spooky encounter?
COMMENT BELOW!!!!
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
Sherlock Holmes or The Doctor?
Can't I have both?? I'll go for Doctor Who - bit more of a variety than a murder mystery. But I do love Sherlock Holmes
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