Bye Bye Garden Centre

At 2pm today Overstrand will be without it's garden centre for the first time in decades. Can't help but feel a little sad. Best job I ever had, which I sadly had to give up back in 2002.

Thanks for the memories peeps. I like to think we did our bit to make the business what it was for the future owners.

It's a Shame to See It Like This

Bertram Watts used to be one of the best shops in Sheringham, one of the places I always used to go to whenever I was in town, along with the likes of Starlings and Peggs Records.

They closed down a few years ago to become one of those bargain shops, the sort that probably ran out of loo paper four years ago. It was pretty much the same sort of stuff that other shops in Sheringham, such as Nobby's, used to do.

Walked past today on my way to the dentist to see it's closed again and up for rent.

It's a shame to see it like this, especially considering what it was like all those years ago when it was thriving.

I Love Retail But I Hate People

Seeing the stories about what's happening at my old stomping ground in Overstrand is stirring up some bad memories.

I love working in customer service, always enjoyed helping people, but there are times when you want to grab hold of them and give them a good....well, you know.

"Where am I going to get my (insert name of product here) from now?" should always be met with this reply from the sales assistant: "Where am I going to earn a living now? How am I going to pay my bills?"

Or the one I was tempted to use during the dying days of Claws 'N' Paws: "Stop being a selfish c**t and consider other people for a change."

I love retail, but there are times when I really hate people.

My Take on the Events of the Past Few Days

Here's my little take on the events of the past few days......

You see, it's pretty disgusting that these people, and I use that term loosely, are using false information spread online to justify rioting in the names of the three girls who were murdered in Southport last week.

It's disgusting that they're causing carnage and endangering lives up and down the land, fuelled by lies and hatred, some of which is spread by people in the public eye, people in positions of power and influence around the world.

Now I'm assuming that some of these people, and again I used that term quite loosely, are getting injured as they espouse their right-wing rhetoric while looting grocery stores and hurling bricks and mortar at his majesty's police force.

Take the chap in the photo for instance. You've probably seen quite a bit of him over the past few days after he took a shot to the back of his head followed by a shot to the groin. Oh, did I mention that the bricks that caused the damage were launched by his own comrades?

Anyway, I'm assuming that the poor fellow would have been in need of hospital treatment, and given that he'd probably been blaming all of his country's ills on those pesky immigrants he would have probably been in for a surprise when he walked into A&E.

This Isn't Their City

Seems like the head of the local wrestling dynasty is blowing a gasket or two because others are holding shows in Norfolk.

You've got guys trying to live off the reputation of a TV show that was cancelled nearly forty years ago coming to Norwich, as well as Sanjay's boys from London heading over to Yarmouth for a summer season.

Add the two fat clowns and their big tent production and the stars falling from the sky (and probably some others as well), and Norfolk slowly becomes more than a one-family show.

It still wouldn't get me going back to watching the grapple game though. You could resurrect Davey Boy and Dynamite and de-age the Sexy Monkey, the man from Detroit and the Essex Bomb and hold a show in my front garden and I still wouldn't go.

An Apology

Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to make a public apology to all of you.

You see, back in 2020, during the dark days of the covid pandemic, I threw my hat into the podcasting world, mainly because I had so much time on my hands. I recorded twelve episodes and mainly spoke about the pandemic, about how it had affected me and so on and so forth.

During one of these episodes, I can’t remember which one, and I can’t be bothered to go and check, I stated that the government of the United Kingdom, under the leadership of Boris Johnson, was doing a good job.

I couldn’t have been more fucking wrong.

More Doctors, More Pain, More Hospital Stuff

So with the latest cycle of medical appointments finished, here's a round-up of recent happenings for you and the family members who aren't on my friends list and who don't speak and skulk around in the background:

The two mental health assessements drew the conclusion that I'm in need of treatmentant given everything I've been through in the past year. I've been put forward for cognitive behavoural therapy, although the waiting list for treatment is six months or so.

The blood tests showed that I have low folate levels. This basically means I'm anaemic, and I'm now on a course of folic acid for the next few months. They also tested to see how my other organs were doing, as well as for diabities. Thankfully that came out all clear.

If You're Happy & You Know It It's Your Meds!

So I'm coming into one of those periods when I don't have a medical appointment. In the past week or so I've had a blood test, an ECG and two mental health assessments.

If you included the paracetamol and ibuprofen I take for the pain (I'm off the codene now for obvious reasons) I'm now on twelve different forms of medication, thirteen if you include the freeze gel I get to help with the pain. That stuff may be cheap but it works wonders.

Sorry Dad, We've Let You Down

Today is Father’s Day, the day when we pay tribute to the men who raised us, biological or otherwise, and because Father’s Day is so close to the anniversary of my own Father’s passing I’ve been thinking about the old man quite a lot over the past few days. Which is why I’m posting this here now.

Dad, I’m sorry.

Mum and Dad had ten kids, spread out over twenty years, with me being the youngest. At this moment in time there are seven of us still around. I had a sister who died when she was still an infant, a brother who I never really knew who died in his forties and another brother who died in his fifties.

By the time Dad passed away he’d been a widower for nearly eight years, and his dying wish was that his family should stay together, should stay connected with each other, and should be there to support each other through good times and bad.
Well, we certainly fucked that one up, didn’t we?

When Jake "The Snake" Thought It Was All Over

Here's a little story for you from my time in the wrestling business.

Back in the day WWE legend Jake "The Snake" Roberts was trying to score....I mean revive his career over here in the UK, and a certain family-run company was handling some of his bookings. One day in their plush offices (or rather in a tatty-looking shop on Unthank Road in Norwich) we were trying to come up with ideas on how to get some publicity for the great man.

Yours truly came up with this idea, and low and behold it wasn't long before David Gower and Jonathan Ross were groping around him in a way that wrestling's Speaking Out movement would have been horrified by twenty years later.

As is the way of things if you were to ask the powers-that-be about this they'd take all the credit themselves. But hey, that's been the way of things since I left them back in 2005.

Enjoy this little video.

 

Boy Is My Diary Filling Up!

I'm in one of those periods again where I have medical appointments.

Thursday off to see the GP to discuss the letter I had from the surgeon following my consultation at the big hospital in April, six weeks after that appointment.

Then I'm back down there next Monday to see the mental health nurse after I was diagnosed with depression.

Then (hopefully) nothing until July when I'm back at the big hospital to see the cardiologist.

I hate those fucking places. I'm the kind of person who needs a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I just wish that it wasn't for tons of medical appointments.

Where's My Cake?

So I have a question. Where’s my cake?

Let me elaborate.

When someone leaves their place of work there is often a little gathering, normally to thank them for all of their hard work. A card, signed by many co-workers, is handed to them, and cake is often eaten before the person leaves the building for pastures new.

This never happened to me.

Happy Friendiversary, Helen

This turns up on my Facebook memories every year. Happy Friendiversary to the boss who sent me late night drunken messages demanding I go back to work, even though I had a throat and chest infection.

Credit Where Credit's Due: Imagine What I Could Have Done For WAW If I Was Healthy

WAW head honcho "Rowdy" Ricky Knight greets me on his way to ringside to face Robbie Brookside at The Talk in Norwich in April 2002 .

 

I’d like to take you back a few years, to the dark, distant days of the early 21^st century. Yours truly was just about finding his way around the world wide web, combining two of my favourite things, writing and professional wrestling.

In 2000 The Two Sheds Review was in it’s infancy, but the wrestling world was going through some massive changes. When I began writing about wrestling World Championship Wrestling and Extreme Championship Wrestling were on their death beds, and it wasn’t long before Vince McMahon and his mighty World Wrestling Federation swallowed up as much of the national wrestling scene in the States as he possibly could.

Around the same time my interest in wrestling began to wane a little. I wasn’t one for trading tapes, and streaming and downloading shows was but a distant dream, so, seeking an alternative to WWE, I began to take an interest in the local wrestling scene, most notably the Norwich-based World Association of Wrestling, formed in 1994 by the husband and wife team of “Rowdy” Ricky Knight and “Sweet” Saraya Knight, along with Ricky’s Superflys tag-team partner “Gentleman” Jimmy Ocean.

The Results from the Hospital

Health update: the trip to the big hospital went well. The x-rays and CT scan showed that the lung is healing up nicely.

The pain comes from the diaphragm repair, which is causing the pain in the chest, ribs and back. The hospital is writing to my GP to explore pain management and physio options, because it's likely to be the end of the year before I heal from the operation fully.

I've Finally Heard Back From The Hospital

Week 36, and as I'd heard nothing from the hospital for weeks I decided to give them a call, but every time I called all I got was the dreaded recorded message.

I tried again every day for a few days hoping that I'd finally speak to a person, but after continually getting the message I left a message of my own, politely commenting that the message said CT scans took five weeks to come in and that I had been waiting nearly eight weeks for mine.

Six Years Without Snowy

Six years ago today the wee hairy beastie Snowy was reunited with his best friend Dexter when he passed away at the ripe old age of 17.

If it wasn't for those two I wouldn't be here today. Their unconditional love helping me through one of the most difficult times of my life.

His last few years were a fine example of the mind being willing but the body being unable, but he was helped along by a young pup called Monty and his tabby cat sister Frodo.

When Dad Played For Cromer Town

A little story for you.

Way back before I was born my Dad William Radbourne played for Cromer Town after he moved here from Solihull in the Midlands after the war. He didn't talk much about his time there, so I have no idea what position he played, or if there are any records of his exploits.

Bye Bye Morphine

This is an example of how bad things are for me.

There were times when I really needed some of this stuff when I was in hospital, mainly after the first chest drain and after the operation. Paracetamol alone just wasn't enough.

They gave me this when I was discharged. It's been sitting on the shelf since then. I haven't needed it, and even if I did I'd probably never take it.

Bye Bye Morrisons

Sooo.....

You probably saw that I was at Morrisons this morning for a capability meeting. This was to determine if and when I could return to work.

Given my ongoing health problems, and with no end in sight at the moment, the decision was made to terminate my contract and end my employment.