Does anyone else hate writing blogs? As of now I’ve got about half an hour to crack this out before I wrap some Christmas presents and head off to pre- drinks. Hopefully the sea of late submissions from my fellow blog dodgers (I know you’re out there, I cant be the only one, right?)  Wash this one under the carpet.


I’ve just spent the past 19 hours sat in the newsroom in a despair of essay misery, proofreading and fact checking, scraping the bottom of the barrel for any quote bearing the slightest resemblance to my essay question. With only meal deals, turkey trimmings, lucozade orange, walkers cheese and onion (solid 7/10 I reckon) and all the water I can drink for sustenance (where does that constant supply of plastic cups come from?) I really am running on fumes, Thanks Ben.


I’ve read some impressively good blog posts, genuinely, but I just can’t do it. What would I write about?


Maybe I could write about my how amazing my friends are. They mean the world to me, yes even you Dylan, but on the other hand they know me. If I just started gushing about how much I love them they would assume I was dying, or worse, found Jesus.


I read a really moving blog about somebody’s letter to their future daughter and thought about doing one myself. Then I remembered that I’m kind of a dick it would probably open like this


“If you are reading this sorry for abandoning you” 


I guess that’s that idea dead in the water then.


I really love the work of George Condo, maybe I could write about modern art and convince you that I’m a man of culture and leisure rather than Guinness and memes.

I was recently at the Tate Modern and for the most part I was enjoying it. There were some really interesting and stimulating exhibits. More importantly there was nothing too pretentious or out there.


Alas, I would eventually take a wrong turn, walk into the wrong room, and be confronted with a statue of some sort of dog man hybrid. He was stood there with a huge grin in a pair of scruffy leather boots with his knob out. Perhaps modern art isn’t for me after all.   


I’ve read a lot of politics maybe I could solve the world’s problems in one blog post referencing thinkers such as Burke, J.S. Mill, Wollstonecraft, Greer or Gramsci. I’ll do that! I’ll create the perfect ideology with an amalgamation of everything I’ve read and elevate myself to the status of the free flowing intelligentsia?


But then if I could really solve the worlds problems then why haven’t I? Besides nowadays my political knowledge consists of looking at fake Donald Trump tweets and scraping my public affairs exam by one mark.       

I’m getting desperate now; maybe I’ll tell a tale of how I’ve dodged death? In reality the closest I’ve come to death is having chicken pox for the second time (yes that happens and yes its super bad for you) however, I don’t really remember it that well as I was off my tits on sleeping tablets, antibiotics and anti-histamines for the best part of two weeks so I cant say I remember any of it.


More recently I went scuba diving, and me being the paranoid freak I am, I thought the guy responsible for my oxygen would try and kill me. The man in question was my girlfriend’s dad, so my fears weren’t completely uncalled for.

The dive went well, I didn’t die, so I guess its all Gucci and he likes me.  



I feel at this point I could speak about sport. I’m an avid football fan with too many hours on football manger to admit. Oh and by the way I’m shit hot on a horse.


I’d start it with “Good news Sunderland fans it turns out your fans aren’t shitting in your stands.”


But that’s all I have. No commentary, nor insight, I just hate Sunderland.  


I saw the new Star Wars film but I imagine that amongst the 2 of you to get this far (1 being Ian marking it) you’ve ever seen it or couldn’t care less.


I could do a ten-page essay on why you should all love Frank Ocean as much as me but it’d just confirm my fears of a creepy obsession. An opinion piece on current affairs? Lets all be honest, if you know me, the chances are that if I have an opinion on something you’ve already been force-fed it numerous times. The last thing anyone wants to do before Christmas is listen to me drone on about something for the 1,000000,00009th time, I’ll spare you poor souls from my bullshit. Blog post’s just aren’t me.  


I’m off to wrap some gifts for my loved ones and then ill head to pres. Maybe next term ill pull it out of the bag and answer one of the universes biggest questions “why is there so much dog shit in Gillingham but no dogs?” When I tuck into my Ramzeys later this evening I can rest assured that Frazer Norwell has just about scraped another deadline.



i hate writing blog posts.