The Good, The Bad… But, Which One Is The Ugly?

*Sigh*, I really could do with this every single morning, considering the news doesn’t have a wonderful reputation for giving me my daily dose of ‘goodness’! Whether it be another Saville story that managed to remain secret for so long, or another rocket fired by an Israelite in vain for a cause he possibly doesn’t understand he is fighting for, I wouldn’t really consider the news to be as appetizing as the title ‘BBC Breakfast’ makes it out to be. I think I’ll stick to my Weetabix and apple juice, thanks! Every now and again, I’ll see a lighting news article talking about a new, genetic discovery or how Boris Johnson takes delight in doing the ‘Mobot’ (that as well as getting stuck on a zipline? I award him for being ‘The World’s Most Daft Politician’). Though, just like weighing the two chosen contestants on an episode of ‘Supersize vs Superskinny’, there is an incredible unbalance. Am I the only one who sees that the bad outweighs the good? We strive to be good, human beings; yet we’re surrounded by negative lines such as ‘Your economy is failing you – prepare to be skint!’ and ‘The price of alcohol is going up – prepare to be sober!’ Okay, so the second one is open to interpretation. Regardless, it begs me to ask the question – which one should we choose?

The little old lady waits impatiently on the side of the road. You have two choices:

  1. Help her across the road like the ‘Good Samaritan’ you were called to be, receive your reward of a peck on a cheek coupled with a ‘Why thank you, dear!’
  2. Select your baseball bat, beat the helpless pensioner to a pulp and walk along the road with your prized $2 in hand and buy yourself a well deserved hot dog.

Recognize the reference? For those who were 18+, or just had parents who were ‘open to agreement’, you’ll have been faced with this decision umpteen times on the infamous video game ‘Grand Theft Auto’. Whilst it gave many teenage boys an excuse to unleash their testosterone by crashing a stolen ambulance into a nearby bank, it made me think just about the consequences of falling on a spectrum. If I said my ‘Ps and Qs’ and drove an innocent bystander from one point to another, then in this magical, clear-cut world I’d be considered a ‘good person’. However, if ever the little devil standing on my pixellated character’s shoulder started shouting ‘GO ON, BE BAD YOU’LL GET XP’, then my character felt obliged to run around shooting like a maniac, taking on every police chopper and tank that came his way. Look out, we got a badass over here! They both have their benefits – but, which one should you choose? Oh, who am I kidding, the second option is much more fun! This isn’t reality, it’s just an excuse to blow off some steam/ something up. Why do we love do it if we’re good people in real life? For once, is it good to be bad?

Whilst it may be a song about, well, the title really does give it away, Rihanna’s ‘S&M’ has one line that I think actually makes a lot of sense, despite it’s connotations:

I can be bad, but, I’m perfectly good at it

I won’t carry that on as *Ahem, shuffles collar nervously*, it becomes inappropriate. Some of us see being ‘bad’ as a profession, putting everything they have into it and being ‘good’. Our lives, both in reality and non-reality, always have the bad guy. I really do want to make this seem like a ‘Disney’ film, but even Walt Disney has let us down – for the bad guys exist in his films, too! The Bad seem to be bent on stopping The Good, scampering their valiant efforts to do the right thing and be good role models. What are their motives? Do they just enjoy being destructive? Have they just been playing too much GTA? ‘The Incredibles’ (great film. It has humour, story, action and… a baby that lights on fire? Perfect!) seems to think that the villain came about from a fall in good. As a young, eager Incredi-Boy wished to help his role model, Mr Rejection I, *ahem*, Mr Incredible denied him the chance, to save his life. Did the little boy like this? NO, NO, NO. He turned ginger and decided to become the villain = a recipe for failure. Despite making a rookie error and ticking off a superhero family of 5, his intentions as the villain were to make himself something that his former hero never could be. Not so ugly after all? He was just bad at being good so he turned bad. See – not all evil characters had the intentions of blowing up the world!

Nevertheless, my one rule in life? Never root for the bad guys – they always lose. Whilst we may enjoy seeing the bad guy wreaking havoc along the way, we still want everything to end in a big, camp, cuddly-hug happy ending. Personally, our lives are filled with such negativity that it begins to feel difficult for us to embrace just that last, little spec of prosperity. We want to see the good guys win because they deserve to win. No one is perfect, though they hold traits and make good decisions that we want them to ‘earn the girl’ and drive away into the sunset in their Lamborghini whilst the credits roll. Now I’d certainly say that this isn’t the ugly option. Look at the shiny, shiny perks! It pays to be good and we can translate this for ourselves. Who knows whether being a kind, generous person who cares for those around them has any perks after this life? Even if it doesn’t, wouldn’t you feel better, say, giving to charity than vandalizing? For the time being, I’ll see being bad as the ugly option. I’d rather not be thrown into jail or have ‘boooo’s shouted at me as I walk down the street – I’ll leave that to the ‘Ugly Proffessionals’. We can be good and we can be perfectly good at it!

Knowledge Is Power – Crayons Are Bliss

This poor man has enough on his plate (quite literally, in most cases) without this problem. A time-consuming job that he pummels many hours into; a family that he’s had to provide for for an entire 23 seasons, yet still can’t seem to make them age; and to top it off? He’s yellow. Yellow. Let’s hope his liver is functioning the way it’s supposed to! Yet, when those 16 crayons were shoved up his nose and lodged into his brain, he made a choice – to remain dumb for the rest of his family-oriented days. Can’t he just, like, get those crayons removed?  Believe you me, he did this and… well, let’s just say he preferred being a moron. To him, the fact that he can’t absorb all this knowledge isn’t such a bad thing (what would be a bad thing would be fat-free donuts and ‘Duff Zero’. Healthy eating really is the bane of this morbidly obese family-man’s life ) – is it so wrong to think the same?

I, er… sorry, sir, I don’t know the answer. If I ever so willingly wanted to make myself cringe, I would utter this phrase. Or watch a cheesy ‘rom-com’, that does a delightful trick, too! Admitting defeat. Rather than straining my face for several minutes to create an answer that would make me look like a dunce, instead I just say to myself ‘Just give up, you don’t know the answer’. Okay, at first it may feel painful to admit defeat, but, give it a few minutes and it just feels to be really irrelevant. Like stubbing your toe. We make out like the pain is endurable, yet after a few minutes? Ahhhhh. I might have been able to get over it, though I wouldn’t always. To be honest, some people still don’t! It’s not a trait we like to have, but there is a tendency to have an obsession for knowledge. Regardless of how crammed our brains already are ( all those useless Q.I. facts, upcoming important dates and friends’ birthdays into a volume of 71 cubic inches? What sorcery is this?!), we just want more, more, more. Regardless of the fact the brain is an organ, the ‘brain buffs’ out there feel the need to exercise it as if it is a muscle. It’s your loss, guys, because if a zombie apocalypse ever happens? Well – you’ll be the first ones they’re looking for! *Ahem*, braaaaaaaaaaaains:

Though, I won’t be one to judge as this was the tendency I adopted when I was a kid. In class, our teacher would ask us this question – ‘If a genie visited you, what one wish would you make?’ Personally, I had three:

  • I wish my tap would just continuously sprout apple juice instead of water, Genie Man!
  • Mr Genie, I wish I had unlimited wishes. Is that in the terms and conditions?
  • I wish I knew EVERYTHING.

Whilst I admit they’re all a bit ‘out there’ (a bit?), it was the third one I would always ponder upon. Back in the day, me and my brother would be sat in front of the television, watching ‘Spongebob Squarepants’ whilst attempting to learn our 11 times tables for the next day. As Spongebob would flip Krabby Patty after Krabby Patty, I would sit and *humph* to myself at the fact that I really could not get past 55. Why don’t I know these? Can’t I just know them, please? Being a creative little child, I thought to myself how it would be great if I knew not just what my 11 times tables were, but everything else. Everything. What condensation actually was, what the difference between a noun and a verb was, what grass (an alien term to me at the time) actually was. Power at my fingertips/brain neurones! How good would that feel? Just to know absolutely everything? As a kid, we find that there doesn’t seem to be an awful lot to learn in this world. Yet, thanks to secondary school and shows like ‘Pointless’, we learnt the bloomin’ hard way that there is. There is an entire world out there for us to discover, piece by piece. Do you really want to know every single last bit about it? You do? Well enjoy looking like this:

Pretty big head, huh? I think I’ll pass on that! Day-by-day, we’re surrounded by question after question that seems to require an answer. Does God exist? Do you think there are aliens out there? What’s in a Krabby Patty? Questions that can’t seem to be answered right now, yet long for an answer. Why? Can’t we just live in our own ignorant, crayon-shoved-up-nose-into-brain world and accept that we don’t know everything? Okay, so I guess Steven Hawking doesn’t need to accept that rule. But we mortals should really think about doing so. We’re learning new things continuously and our incredible little/big brains are managing to not make our heads implode. So let’s be thankful, because the zombies really won’t care how many facts we’ve got up in that potential food of theirs.

Once, Twice, Three Times A Blogger

Whoever suggested that the number three is a magical number is a wonderful chap/chappette. In fact, I’d quite possibly shake their hand to express my gratitude to them – three times, just to exaggerate my appreciation! Look around you, notice how good things always come in threes? The Subway ‘Meal Deal’ is £3.00, The Lord of the Rings is a trilogy, a Shamrock is a three-leaf clover and, not to blow my own trumpet (which has three valves, just sayin’) but I was born as a set of three. *Ahem*, need I say more? Oh, wait, I’ve just included four examples instead of three… okay, okay, my theory is slightly flawed here but at least my intentions were clear! Rather than seeing everything as one, separate entity in life, it’s just nice to accept that some things just can’t helped but be grouped with something else. Or with another something else, for that matter. Come on, would it be charming if there was just ‘One Blind Mouse’? Not really, it’d just seem cruel as to why this poor, blind little mouse has been mocked for years with nursery rhymes, rather than being notified to the RSPCA! How about ‘Two Men and a Baby’ as opposed to the film ‘Three Men and a Baby’? I know, I know – the title just has a bit of a ‘Gay Adoption Rights’ vibe to it. Consider four ‘life lines’ rather than three in a game of ‘Who Wants To Be A Millionaire’ – you’d have a lot more millionaires skipping merrily through the streets throwing their cash around. It’s just part of the natural cycle of things – all good things come in threes.

Thankfully, AdrianCharlesHoran is just another addition to this natural order of things. I sit writing this post with a smile on my face (not just due to the fact that I’m currently wolfing down this apple crumble. If only this came in threes! ) as this post is to celebrate my third blogging award ceremony! *Balloons fall from ceiling, Adrian does the ‘Chandler Dance’ in excitement, sits down in embarrassment as Mum witnesses ‘Chandler Dance’* A big thank you to the humurous, addictive blog of nuderamblings for nominating me for the ‘Liebster Blog Award’, which is given to the talented, newcoming bloggers with less than 200 followers. I was braced for the end, considering my followers are nearing upon 200 and the possibilty of receiving a Liebster felt about as slim as finding a fresh water fountain in the Sahara Desert! However, thanks to some patience and a bit of the old ‘crossing of the fingers’ (works every time) I can finally accept that good things do come in threes as I feel honoured to accept this award:

Whilst I’ve never been one to ever read the ‘Terms And Conditions’ for something, merely click ‘agree’ straight away, I’ll make an exception for a blogging award. I’m expected to answer 11 questions, nominate 11 people for the award and provide them with 11 questions to answer. Yikes… my ‘rule of three’ flew straight out of the window there! Regardless, here are the 11 questions to answer as provided by nuderamblings:

1. What would you do for a Klondike Bar?

What wouldn’t I do for a Klondike Bar is a better question! Wait, in fact… nothing, considering as I have just ‘Googled’ the name of this foreign sounding bar of chocolatey goodness.

2. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose to live?

I know that I’m suppossed to be proud of where I live – but why stay in rainy, rainy England when I can spend my life drinking Guiness, speaking with an Irish accent and listening to U2 in Ireland? Okay, so I might have just decribed my Dad with a hint of casual racism…

3. White or red wine?

Neither – I’m underrage! Adrian Horan – providing a role model for the modern youth since 1995.

4. Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp chocolate factory? (Sidenote, Johnny Depp is the only man who can still go by “Johnny” after 15 and still be sexy)

Gene Wilder – he hasn’t had the chance to play Jack Sparrow yet. When he does, I might consider Johnny Depp.

5. What do you like most about your job?

The ‘part-time’ aspect of it; full-time work for a 17 year old? I’ll pass!

6. Who was/is your favourite Spice Girl and why?

Is none a credible answer to this question?

7. What would you consider the biggest insult to yourself?

‘Hi Anthony! It is Anthony, right?’

8. What is the strangest item in your home?

The ‘FECK’ regplate above our kitchen door. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say…

9. When was the last time you climbed a tree?

When I was 13 and I fell right off of it. It certainly will be the last time!

10. Do you make your bed everyday? (This is a no judgement zone people)

I, er… No not really. Do you make your bed everyday?

11. What is your favourite holiday? Why? (Birthdays count)

May 12th – three birthday celebrations on one day? My pleasure!

Here are the 11 questions I’ll provide to my 11 nominees:

1. Scone (S gone) or Scone? (Sc own)

2. What is the most adventerous thing you have ever done?

3. You’re stranded on a desert island which, funnily enough, has a portable music player on it. What are your five albums of choice?

4. Who is your favourite celebrity?

5. What do you consider to be your biggest flaw?

6. If you regret doing one thing, what would it be?

7. We all have one – what is your hidden talent?

8. What is your guiltiest of guilty pleasures?

9. What would you say is the world’s coolest job occupation?

10. If you could have one superpower, what would it be?

11. James Bond or Harry Potter?

Here are my selected nominees:

My apologies if any of you have over 200 followers – my I.C.T. skills would be at an incredible fault if that is the case! Congratulations to all of the nominees and thank you for reading folks. Also, let me provide you with a leaving tip – why not sing Lionel Richie’s ‘Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady’, but replace the ‘lady’ with something else? Hopefully that’ll convert you to my side where everything is much better in threes – muhahah!

‘What Are You, Chicken?’ ‘No – I’m Batman’

The Chicken Cluck. Why have those three words become a pet hate to me? I mean, a cat meows and a pig goes oink (feeling like a nursery teacher at this moment in time), yet I don’t dislike those noises? I’ll clucking tell you why I hate that clucking noise – because we humans use that noise now-a-days more clucking times than chickens! To imitate a chicken? Ohhhh no. For another reason – Fear. ‘What are you chicken?’ *Clucks aggressively like a hyperactive chicken*. Whether it’d be backing out from riding the Nemesis for the first time at Alton Towers; to ask out that girl you don’t dare approach or just because I said ‘No’ to something which for some reason required a ‘Yes’, The Chicken Cluck is an inevitable sound I receive to most of my actions. Honestly, chalk on a chalkboard, the banshee and the shriek of a Fell Beast (nerdy reference, but oh so relevant! ) sound more delightful than that clucking cluck. Cluck sake… why do I have to feel fear?

Readers, your friends may not feel the need to ‘dish out the cluck’ as much as mine do – maybe because it’s not needed? Or is it because this fear isn’t something that you haven’t done, it’s just an internal fear you keep to yourself? Yet, what do I know, I’m no psycho… analyst… thingimijig! Thanks to my loyal, intelligent friend known as ‘Google’, fear is seen as an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat. That sounds about right! In one way or another, we feel this emotion known as ‘fear’. Come on, man, get a grip! This runs through my head every time I feel fear – yet, why? Why does Ron Weasley so desperately wish that it could have been butterflies instead of spiders? Why is a clown, a goofy man with over-expressed makeup and a colourful afro, such a daunting concept to so many children? It’s something that we all have a problem answering, like ‘the chicken and the egg’ (everything always comes back to those clucking chickens… *dramatically shakes fist in air* why I oughta!). Whilst some feel it developed from childhood to become a part of our subconscious, other caraazy people think we were born with it. Born with it? My fear is of death… so I was born with a fear to die? How unfortunately ironic! Heights, spiders, you know the usual. However… some fears are just down right barmy! Here are my ‘Top 5… Fears?’:

  • Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia – the fear of long words. Is now a bad time to be humming a certain ‘Mary Poppins’ tune in my head? Also, the fear of a long word is a long word? Good luck with that!
  • Pteronophobia – the fear of being tickled by feathers. Okay, whilst tickling someone with a feather is serious fun, the consequence isn’t quite so amusing – making them wet themselves. I mean, that is just another fear in itself – this fear just combines the two together!
  • Luposlipaphobia – the fear of being pursued by timber wolves around a kitchen table while wearing socks on a newly-waxed floor. A tragic fear, affecting a staggering 0 people every single year. My heart goes out to you poor, non-existent people…
  • Venustraphobia – the fear of beautiful women. I guess this is a good thing – at least a man can’t be accused of being a ‘shallow, sexist pig’! Or a woman, if she bats for that team.
  • Pinaciphobia – the fear of lists. Wow… to any of those who suffer from this phobia, feel free to send me some hate-mail. Or thank me, I mean, I’m helping you conquer it here!

To be honest, I don’t know anyone suffering from these phobias. Probably because they’re not mainstream like spiders and heights – for all you hipsters out there looking for a ‘Counter-Culture Phobia’? You are most welcome. Yet, with a fear, I think the best mind-frame to have is one of Julius Caesar. Rather than ‘I came. I saw. I conquered’ – how about a more appropriate saying? ‘I feared. I cried. I conquered’. Adrian Horan, 2012 A.D. if ever you need to quote it in some work. Let me give you an example – Na na (This isn’t Rihanna, before I commence with this tune) na na na na na na na na na na na na na na BRUCE WAYNE. When he was innocently playing hide and seek with Katie Holmes as a kid, he fell into a deep, abandoned well. Okay, so child protection doesn’t appear to be a great concern in the Wayne household – but give me a minute, this is going somewhere. Down that well, he was surrounded by just one thing – bats (Batman didn’t start off as Adam West running around in spandex from day one, you know). To feel so vulnerable, surrounded by this formidable creature – he feared. After being pulled to the rescue by his Dad and comforted by Micheal Caine – he cried. However, there came a time when Gotham needed him to overcome his fear, to use it and in fact – conquer it.

I know that to overcome fear, the D.I.Y. method is a truckload of medication and some of the old-fashioned ‘hypnosis’ – but not all things in life can be solved through this. How did Neville overcome his fear of Alan Rickman? RIDDIKULUS! He made his fear into something light-hearted. He feared, I’m sure he cried, then he conquered it. Next time you see a spider? You scare it. Next time you’re being chased by timber wolves whilst wearing socks on a newly-waxed floor? Learn how to skate and glide gracefully around that table. As for you, chickens? I’ve conquered that God awful sound. You. Are. Clucked!

Didn’t I Tell Ya ‘There Was More Where That Came From’?

I may not exactly be your typical scientist (far from it actually – when someone says the letters ‘x’ and ‘y’ to me, I think of ‘Coldplay’, not chromosomes. I’m a disgrace of a Biology student), but I’ve constructed my own thesis. From assessing myself as a variable as to how I feel, as well as my lack of luck on this particular day of the week, I can come to one conclusion – Mondays SUCK. They suck more than a thunderstorm during outdoor P.E. class and the cancellation of your newly-found favourite TV programme after one series. Combined. After spending the weekend eating junk-food galore, watching X Factor and napping like a toddler on the sofa, I spend Monday mornings usually stimulating myself with a cold coffee and a lacking sense of achievement. Can Mondays, just, not exist? I think to myself – but sadly they do. Why did the dinosaurs have to be wiped out clean by an asteroid and become extinct, but Mondays didn’t? Yet as ‘The Killers’ melody runs through my head’ singing ‘This is the woooooorld, that we live in’, life must go on. As we all know, folks – life works miracles in the smallest of ways. Well, not always in the smallest of ways; I mean, Jesus fed 5000 people with 5 fish and 2 loaves loaves of bread! (Seriously, if the second coming ever happens? They need to do ‘Come Dine With Christ’ and have Dave Lamb commentating it, it’d be an incredible sight to see) My luck was finally restored, as the recent Monday was actually one of the best days I’ve had in one heck of a long time. As I sit publishing my posts, I can’t help but wish for another award that I can add to my metaphorical ‘Award Wall’. I’m a sucker for a cliche, as there certainly was ‘more where that came from’! Jessica at ‘This One Time At Band Camp’ nominated me for the ‘R.E.A.L.I.T.Y. Award’, which stands for… you know what – here it is: As I’m a good person (open to debate), I shall follow the regulations which take place in a ‘Q&A’ style, as well as listing 5 nominees who really do deserve this award. Not to sound like a ‘Butlins’ entertainer, but I’m always one to attempt to entertain my recipients. Ladies, gentlemen and possibly those who are a bit of both; I’ll present this as the five final rounds of a game of ‘Who Wants To Be A Millionaire’, just because I’m fearless and don’t have a clue how copyright laws work! Here we go: So, Adrian, you’re just five questions away from the big total on ‘Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?’. Well… I really hope you don’t want to be a millionaire, the award is non existent since this show is in Adrian’s subconscious. Anyway, let’s commence: Question 1 -What is Adrian Horan’s instrument of choice? A.Drums B. Sitar C.Violin D. All of the above Erm… B is screaming out at me, but C seems like the more appropriate option. Is it C? *Silence* CORRECT. Question 2 – If Adrian Horan wanted to do one thing someday, what would it be? A. Skydive B. Nothing C. Become a woman D. Learn interpretive dance I’m sure the poor boy would have no pride left if it was option C! *Laughter from audience* Skydiving seems a bit out there – is it option A? *Silence* RIGHT AGAIN. Question 3 -If you could be one celebrity for a day, who would it be? A. Barney The Purple Dinosaur B. Angelina Jolie C. Barack Obama D. Clint Eastwood Boy, this is a tough one… it’d be great to be all of them! Can I ask the audience? *Looks at audience*, they look like a friendly bunch. Let’s do it! If you can use the remotes under your chair and select an option. Our polls suggest that 48% said Clint Eastwood, 32% said Barack Obama, 19% said Angelina Jolie and… sorry folks, only 1% said Barney The Purple Dinosaur. *Looks at audience* ladies and gentlemen, Barney is actually in the audience! Only in a 17 year old teenager’s subconscious, folks. I’ll go with D, Chris. *Silence* BINGO Question 4 – If Adrian Horan won the Euromillions, what would he do with the money? A. Use it wisely and invest it in his bank account. B. Pay for driving lessons, university tuition fees and buy a house. C. Lose it. D. Buy mint condition comic books that can never be read or touched. C and D made me cringe when I heard them, so it can’t be them. A… who would even do that? B sounds right, Chris. *Silence* YOU’RE JUST ONE QUESTION AWAY Question 5 – We all have our own fears. What is Adrian’s? A. Death B. Jaws. C. Spiders. D. Rainbows No normal human being is afraid of rainbows, unless they are incredibly homophobic! *Laughter* We all love a good rainbow. Jaws… I really hated that film, much scarier than a teeny little spider. I’m going to say B. *Silence* THAT’Swoah where’s the happy ending to this? What the *bleep*? I’m so sorry, but the answer was A, meaning you’ve lost this game of ‘Who Wants To Be A Millionaire’ – but at least we’ve helped Adrian receive his blogging award. We’re all winners here! *Boos from audience* Now, I’m expected to nominate 5 other bloggers who deserve this award. Each and everyone one of their blogs is such a pleasure to read, as they are both logical but also very entertaining. Here are the list of nominees:

I’d strongly recommend checking them out, each and every one of them deserves the award. Thanks for reading guys and remember – there’s more where that came from! P.s. Also, as of Monday I’m now in a relationship, which just adds to my list of how not all Mondays are about as painful to endure as a kick in the crotch.

Go On, Put A Face On That Smile!

The Stig, Darth Vader and Spider-Man – what do they have in common? No, no, no, a better question – what don’t they have in common? Well, considering one is a pro-racer, the other is a ‘Sith Lord’ and the third one is a teenager running around in lyrca shooting webs; I would say a lot! Yet, there is one thing they all lack whilst at the same time they possess. Don’t worry, this isn’t some insane riddle – I’ll leave that to the professionals  I’ll tell you what it is, folks. A face. A face? What do you mean they don’t have a face? Of course they do! Okay, so they have a head on which their masks can tightly squeeze onto. Come on, you can’t admit that that is a face? These are ‘Men Behind the Mask’ – the real face sits behind it, just waiting to be revealed.

As an impatient, young child, I would sit there in awe as this ‘Stig’ character would demolish the likes of Clarkson, Hammond and May by sliding, ever so stylishly, into the finish line with Audi’s latest ‘new-born’ creation (in record time, just to step things up a gear. Casual pun intended). I would turn to my Dad, tugging at his sleeve shouting, ‘Who is that man, Daddy? Why has he not got a face?’, to be responded with, ‘But, son, he does have a face?’. *Humph* same old, same old! ‘Take off that mask, mysterious man, let me see who you really are!’ I bellowed with a child-like tantrum. The day would finally arrive when he would remove his mask to reveal none other than Michael Schumacher, whipping his head side-to-side like a ‘L’oreal’ shampoo model. I felt at ease, now that I knew the face of this mysterious idle. Tell me I’m not alone in this. Am I the only one who feels the need to put a face to something?

Ohhh life. You mysterious, little you. Life is just shrouded with mystery; whether that be wondering how Johnny Depp’s appearance doesn’t appear to have changed in the last 20 years, or why a ‘Hot Dog’ is called a ‘Hot Dog’ even though it’s just a pink, flabby tube of paste. Still mysteries to myself! Though, just like a “Hot Dog”, I hate mystery. Yuck. Personally, I like to know what something is and feel this sense of security. Ever seen ‘Jaws’? Watching an entire film when you don’t know ‘what lies beneath’? If you were a fan of mystery, my apologies for having just ruined it for you! More mysterious than ‘Jaws’ eating a hot dog whilst watching a Johnny Depp flick is, well, people. Concepts, more specifically.

Let me provide you with a *ahem* mainstream example – God. Just what is God? To you atheists, he/she/it (to avoid being called a ‘sexist pig’) doesn’t exist; but haters gonna hate and I shall ignore your judgments  However, so many people have had different interpretations of this concept ‘God’. Is he/she/it material? Is he/she/it spiritual? I’ll tell you one thing – God’s bloomin’ mysterious! All aspects of life have felt vulnerable to the mystery that shrouds God. To remove this mystery? Society has ‘Put A Face’ to God. Now, God is either a grey-haired, bearded man, living on a cloud with sandals for shoes; or… he is Morgan Freeman. *Sighs with relief*, I feel much better now that I have ‘Put A Face’ to him.

Heaven ain’t big enough for us both bearded, sandal man!   

Security? Who needs security when you can use ‘Putting A Face’ to something to enforce fear or intimidate others? Muahahaha. No, no, I’m not talking about you, Jocelyn Wildenstein (seriously, Google her, you won’t sleep tonight I can assure you). What I’m really referring to is ‘Big Brother’, the enemy of The Ministry of Truth’s Winston Smith. The original Big Brother from ‘1984’, not Devina’s ‘Minor Celebrities  Major Show’ version. Throughout the book, poor Winston is surrounded by posters of this ‘Big Brother’, which I’m still convinced is based on the ‘blast from the past’ known as Stalin. Does he even exist like a mustachioed Stalin? Is he just a concept? Who knows – though ‘Putting A Face’ to this figure made it appear more concrete, more real. Whether it be God or Big Brother, ‘Putting A Face’ to something has made us think differently about these ideas.

On a less serious note, I’m not sure if I myself am shrouded with mystery to you readers. Though, let me take the weight off of the concept, for you. I’ve applied my poor photo-shop skills to ‘Put A Face To Adrian Horan’. Do you remember those cardboard cut outs at the seaside, where it’d be a woman’s body and some middle aged would eagerly stick his head through it, wearing a goofy smile because he thinks he’s the first person ever to do that? Sadly, I’ve never done that. I’ve sacrificed my pride to do this, so I hope it was worth it:

Call it ‘making up for lost time’?

At least you can go away laughing at my expense and bearing that thought in mind – ‘Putting A Face’ to something makes it a whole lot less mysterious. However, just to assure you I’m NOT a Hula Dancer – there is still some mystery left to my name!

WARNING – Thought-Provoking Blog Post Ahead, Take Caution

Ahhhh the unfortunate world of misinterpretation. Misinterpretation… it isn’t exactly a concept adored by many of us. In fact, I like to see it as one of the natural banes of our lives, regardless of how intellectual we are. No I’m afraid you might have got the wrong end of the stick, dear! is a phrase I hear much too often nowadays. With so much going on in my tired, little noggin, it’s quite easy for me to end up misjudging what the implied intention of something actually was. The ‘Awkward’ moment, the ‘Epic Fail’ moment, the ‘Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. For the third time, what did you say?’ moment – these are all unfortunate births that have arisen from my arch nemesis that is the ‘misinterpretation’. Just like having a conversation with your best friend about religion or politics (This NEVER goes down well. Bring these two up and, well, prepare for a ‘Clash of the Titans’), misinterpretation is a concept I try to avoid at all costs.

Yet, the bitter truth of life is that our skills are constantly being tested. Okay you got me, sometimes I misinterpret things, just let me off with a warning and I’ll learn not to do it? Ohhh how I wish it were that simple. My ‘Supermum’ recently discovered, thanks to her keen bargain eye, a book in the ‘Red Cross’ called ‘The World’s Stupidest Signs’. If ever ‘misinterpretation’ were to have a partner in crime? The ‘sign’ would step up to the challenge. A baffling concept, as signs are seen as ‘An object, quality, or event whose presence or occurrence indicates the probable presence or occurrence of something else’. What exactly that ‘something else’ is, I hope to be a plain, simple suggestion. However, the English Language has its faults – and signs are willing and able to put our own faults and that of our language to the test. Here are the ‘Top 3 Unfortunate Signs As Chosen By Adrian ‘Misinterpreted’ Horan:

  • ‘WANTED UNMARRIED GIRLS TO PICK FRESH FRUIT AND PRODUCE AT NIGHT’ Number 1 was found on a farm. A farm? It sounds more like a brothel! Oh… oh you meant something that has been grown? I’d suggest finding a synonym for ‘produce’ – you might get the wrong sort of ‘unmarried girl’ working for you!
  • ‘HAVE YOUR EARS PIERCED AND GET AN EXTRA PAIR FOR FREE’ An extra pair? Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m coping just fine with these two ears, I’ll come back if there’s a problem *leaves  jewellers*. Wait a minute…
  • ‘ELEPHANTS PLEASE STAY IN YOUR CAR’ Now, Nellie, you read the safari park sign, DON’T leave the car it’s not safe. *Gasp* Mum, stay calm, there’s an elephant in the passenger seat. Get the peanuts from the glove compartment, sloooowly.

It’s clear that all three examples had their intentions in almost the right place. However, ‘Misinterpretation’ strikes again! Sadly, they all suffered from this tragic outcome:

Despite the brief chuckle at their misfortune, I won’t mock them as the common ‘Misread Sign’ can crop up in my life from time to time. Our lives appear to be a spontaneous, ongoing process where each day is as we make it. However, as we’ve all been subject to, sometimes we might see moments to be a ‘sign’, or a reflection we should have noticed. Hey hey, yeah you! I want you to notice me – I’m happening for a reason! Personally, I’m not a great believer in ‘fatality’ or ‘predetermination’, as each of us possesses our own free will to do as we wish. Yet, sometimes I believe a ‘sign’ may appear in our life in order to make us head into the right direction. Okay, so I’m not a driver (despite my impressive skills playing racing games *shuffles imaginary tie*), but I think ‘road signs’ can be compared a little to that of our own life. I recently read this post on ‘Yahoo’ by a chap called ‘Albert Adler’ discussing signs in our lives. Thought I’d engage in a little segment of ‘Pimp My Article’ and ‘vamp’ it up with a reflection on real, materialistic signs. Here’s his article:

He mentioned about ‘informal signs’ in our lives, whether that from a dream or a black cat. For the ‘Rally Racers’ of our streets, you might not have seen these signs. For those ‘Cautious Kevin’s out there, you certainly will have. On the roads, you’ll see signs telling you to ‘STOP’ or ‘SLOW DOWN’. In our lives, we might get a little bit carried away with it all. Sometimes, those around might be telling us to ‘STOP’ or ‘SLOW DOWN’ (without the shouting, which the capital letters seem to imply) – they are signs to inform us. Plus, they are quite simple, which means we can clutch the right end of the stick with both hands *sigh of relief*. If you’ve ever heard Electric Six shout the words ‘DANGER,DANGER!’ you should know the second is a warning sign. They’ve kind of summed it up for me. I like to see this sign in our real lives as a ‘conscience’. Whilst Joe Bloggs might be telling us ‘Playing with fire is SICK’, my conscience knows otherwise. Take that, Joe! His third kind were signs which ‘test our will’. It’s an open, country road – no other cars are on it, for the country isn’t as popular as it used to be. ‘SPEED LIMIT 30’ the sign reads. HA we might think to ourselves *accelerates aggressively*. Bad hypothetical driver. We might have signs in our lives where it is beginning to feel quite strenuous on ourselves. Rules, rules, rules! These are merely to test our will – to let us come out on the other side. They’re doing us a favour. Mr Adler did a dandy job with the fourth one, so I’ll leave it untouched for now! Signs such as these aren’t quite so easy to misinterpret as my ‘Top 3’ mentioned earlier. Reflecting on signs in our own lives certainly makes our interpretation skills appear to be less embarrassing. Don’t let misinterpretation win – stay strong, you shall overcome it!

Dude, Dude, Wake Up! In Fact… Carry On

Oh wait… it was just a dream! If ever there were a valid enough reason to slap my forehead with the palm of my hand – it would certainly be that phrase, the one that I just wish didn’t exist. After engaging myself in a film or book that provides more ‘W.T.F.’, ‘Tug on your heart-string’ and ‘Bloody hell, that was awesome’ moments than I thought imaginable, my recent expansion of imagination is met with the most unfortunate catch. That none of it, not even the itty-bitty bits were real. Could I not have finished watching ‘The Wizard of Oz’ believing that somewhere in the world, (Kansas, if ever I had to point to somewhere on the globe) there lays a yellow brick road surrounded by colourful munchkins, flying monkeys and a singing scarecrow? Okay… now that I read it back to myself, it does sound to be the image of someone who’s incredibly high (not that I would have the slightest idea), but I guess a part of me just wanted it all to be real. For just a second, it would’ve been nice for life to feel less monotonous, to feel more free if not slightly dysfunctional! What I’m attempting to get at here is – wouldn’t life feel so much different if our dreams were real?

This is something we’ve all pondered upon, just as men have thought to themselves ‘Why on earth do women wear high-heels if they’re so bloody uncomfortable?’. It still remains as one of life’s many mysteries. Yet… what even is a dream? The word itself has a different definition to different people (not as many as ‘set’ – seriously, try to define that word for me without thinking of a different one!). My psychology friend, not psycho to clarify, defined a dream as ‘A sequence of images and emotions that combine through mainly semantic ideas. It occurs subconsciously and involuntarily in the mind during sleep.’; others without the benefit of a Psychology A-Level see a dream to be ‘A revelation of secrets, our things to our hearts or goals for our lives’; or as ‘Simple Jack’ (Ben Stiller’s answer to ‘Forrest Gump’) believes them to be called in the ‘Lad’s Answer To Mean Girls’ known as ‘Tropic Thunder’, dreams are simply ‘Head Movies’. Wow… if there were to be any way of extracting my ‘Head Movies’, I’d make an absolute fortune! There is some tense stuff going up in there at night, seriously. So whether you are a Psychology student, a non-Psychology student or a ‘Simple Jack’ (which is possibly no one – Tugg Speedman made the mistake of going ‘full retard’), a ‘dream’ holds a different interpretation to each, individual person.

Regardless of whatever you choose to define it as, this concept has never remained the same as we grow up throughout our life, a bit like what exactly makes us ‘happy’. As a kid, my dreams usually consisted of me riding on a train to this place called ‘DreamLand’. Mock me, but this place was like Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory that had much more on offer than ‘just chocolate’. Hot dogs, burgers, cakes and candy floss galore! The beauty of this? Shows like ‘Supersize vs Superskinny’ didn’t exist, nor did the possibility of a failure of one of my organs. Wahooooo! Do I still have this dream now? Not a chance, I haven’t had it in years. Our dreams have changed, just like everything else does with age. My dreams generally consist of me either forgetting to turn up to an exam or involving myself in a scenario that I watched on TV before I went to bed. I personally prefer my younger dreams to be honest! Though, occasionally we have that dysfunctional dream that means absolutely nothing whatsoever. We wake up the next morning, asking ourself the questions, ‘What the *bleep* did that mean?’ ‘Should I follow what it was getting at, or just laugh at how weird my brain is?’.

Okay, so the majority of a dreams help to make sense of what we bury in our subconscious. Yet, if we follow our dreams as if they’re a ‘compass’, then there is a danger of blurring the line between ‘dream’ and ‘reality’. That ‘dysfunctional dream’ we have might appear to be something downright impossible… or is it? I used to think there were things which just appeared to be impossible. A transformer used to be one of them – but who knows where engineering might take us in the future? Another one used to be a unicorn – a dash of genetic engineering here, a pinch of radiation there. Bravo – your very own horned, majestic horse! Though personally, I might dream about doing something, being something or achieving something. I’d like to take the chance to swap the word ‘dream’ for something else – ‘ambition’. When we say ‘I dream to…’, these might not necessarily be something we dream about when we go to sleep but something we hold dear as an aspiration. Don’t cling onto these aspirations too tightly, for like a giddy 7-year-old prizing a balloon in his flailing arms – it’ll pop. Why not listen to your actual dreams every once in a while? They’re bugging you for a reason!

If you’re ever wondering what to make of your life – why not pair the two of them together? I like to see that ‘aspirations’ and ‘dreams’ can be added together to make our ‘goals (‘Dreamspirations’, if you will). From this, our life can actually have our own little guideline. Next time somebody says ‘Wake up! Stop dreaming and get back into the real world!’, smile at the fact that you’ve combined the two – a sense of realism with a nice little visit to ‘DreamLand’. Whether we reach our dreamspiration is dependent on our ability. Though nothing is perfect (apart from the Toy Story trilogy. Gah what a wonderful creation), so don’t dream to be an intergalactic footballer who gets to work via spaceship. Let’s just take one thing at a time! To finish, here’s a little something to give you a good old, inspirational, kick up the backside! You are most welcome: