Happy 45th Birthday This Is Your Life

So today I am 45 and let me tell you I hate the “fives” with a passion. Birthdays mean less as the years go on but since a twist of fate back in 2012 meant my dad died the day after my birthday I now just associate my birthday as my auld mans death date eve ! Yeah I am a bundle of fun to be with eh. But positive vibes are a plenty and somebody has just knocked at the door back in a mo.

Well fuck me it was Eamonn Andrews disguised as the Pizza Park delivery man with a big red book saying Neil Fay “This is your life” derrrrr derrrr da derrrrrrr.

So Neil George Fay born on the 18th September 1973 in Mill Road hospital by c-section around 11am but weight unknown but assuming you were a bigun for the time. Second child of John and Lilian Fay and younger brother of Clare. Life begun in a small two up two down in Briarwood Road, Aigburth and just a few years later John must have got promotion as you and the family moved to Woodlands Road, Aigburth. Early memories include running though a glass door and luckily coming away without a scratch and not being decapitated. This was the first of seven of your lives you have lost and having just two left out of your nine is not good at the tender age of 45. You were a clingy child with mother having to sneak out of playgroups or you would go mental and your eating habits were not the best. Around the age of four you decided to break open a pillow and stuff some sponge up your nose. No great shakes but around 10 days later there was a bad smell in the house and after a bit of detective work it was coming from your nose as the sponge rotted away prompting a trip to the hospital. Other early memories include playing your mums old records and having a picture of Bill Shankly on your bedroom wall and when my dad asked who it was I would reply “Mr Shankly”

School started and you attended Sudley Infants school starting on the same day that your sister (Clare) started senior school. Abiding memory from that was falling over on the concrete school playground playing and my face having a fight with the small stones on top of the concrete. The lad who I was playing with (Phil Jefferies) I met in 2017 at Glastonbury after over 25 years since I last seen him. He informed me that my mum and dad had gone around to his on the bounce thinking he had done it on purpose. Mad I only found that out then. As it was things were soon cleared up. The natural progression was to Sudley Junior School and it was soon apparent that I was gonna be tall but not the tallest. That honour went to Stu Wenman who again by some strange twist of fate in 2017 I bumped into up Sudley Field walking the dogs and now see him up there on a regular basis. At this rate Eamonn is not gonna have any surprise guest to bring out at the very end. Memories from Sudley Juniors are that our footy team was good but won nothing and I was a star striker mainly because I was a “man boy” and nobody could stop my shots. During the summer of 2nd and 3rd year Juniors (Year 4 & 5 in new money) we moved house but had to spend a summer living with my Nan (Mums mum) at Wingate Road a house that would go on to have a massive bearing on my life. Eventually big John Fay must have got another promotion as we moved to a semi detached on Mossley Hill Road with a garden and went from caravanning holidays to coach trips to Spain. The Fay’s had arrived despite Thatchers best attempts at fucking the city over.

Mossley Hill Road was the sight of the first transformation of my life from young boy into the teenage years and as Quarry Bank changed its name to Calderstones Community Comprehensive School (Or Caldies to all the cool kids) I attended there for senior school. Memories from Mossley Hill involve my mum sitting on “her” chair with a cigarette and a vodka and diet coke on a regular basis thus I ended up watching a lot of her TV. Some good such as Auf Weidersehen Pet others not too great such as Dynasty ! Big John was down Aigburth Vale having a pint though I can exclusively reveal now they are no longer here that one summer I wasn’t allowed to play footy in the garden and was told “Get over The IM Marsh” which was a bit harsh. Only in later years my mum and dad copped to growing cannabis in the greenhouse (for personal consumption along with tomato’s as well) this despite a high level copper living next door. Sorts of makes sense now. here was me worrying about ruining my dads Wembley grass playing footy on it when there was more important grass in the greenhouse !! Caldies was a great school. A mixture of bods (clever dicks) bods on the sly (Clever dicks but fitted in with us) normal kids (me) and some rough arse kids (A few of them either banged away for a long time or shot dead) But it gave me the skills for life and I stayed on for 6th form. Picture below is first year Caldies (I loved that Fred Perry Jumper) and more turns of fate taken in my mate Ian Hunters house which my sister bought some years later and still lives there !! Oh yeah for the record my best year of my life (1990) took place. During these years I was evicted from my big bedroom into the box room as my sister got pregnant with Adam. She was just 18 and I was an uncle (to become uncle knobhead) at just 13. I will never forget the day I came home from school an my dad went ballistic at me at the front door and said get to your bedroom “what have I done” I enquired “Its not what you have done its what your sister has done” was the reply. I spent the next two hours with my ears to my bedroom floor trying to find out what was going on during the tears and shouting !

So with me doing just enough at both GCSE and A Levels whilst waiting for the results of A Levels to come out the bombshell was dropped that my mum and dad would be leaving to go and live in Clitheroe near to where my dad was working. Only now when I look back at this its seems (A) a massive decision and (B) slightly strange. My sister was a single parent with Adam and relied on my mum so in that respect the move was big and despite offering me to live with them I was 18 and why was I going to leave Liverpool so they essentially fucked me off. Now don’t take that the wrong way it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was offered a flat of my own to be subsidised but didn’t fancy that so took the homely option of moving in with my nan for a second spell at Wingate Road as I went to John Moores University to study Human Geography because my dad knew a lecturer there who got me in.

So the uni years AKA years spent at The 051, Cream , Garlands and other clubs. My nan didn’t have a clue and when asking why I was off uni again I would tell her its another reading week. With my mum and dad tucked safely away in Clitheroe I got away with murder. But with my mum and dad living away the dynamic changed between us became one of I always made an effort to go up and see them which was basically going out on the piss with them all weekend and they paid followed by them giving me a dropsy through guilt of leaving me that would subsidise clubbing for a weekend rather than living with them and being told off constantly as I “discovered myself” As the clubbing years eventually faded I just about passed my Batchelor of Science in Human Geography after an extra year and final resits of resits and it was into the big wide world of work. I started work at Ladbrokes on Park Road the same day Frankie Dettori won all 7 races at Ascot. Soon I was to be gong out with my future wife who decided to date me just after me and my nan won £5000 on the pools hmmmmm. Euro 96 was highlight of the 90’s but the end of the 90’s was tainted with the news the my mum had developed Ovarian Cancer a shadow that would hang over my life for the next few years. Not many pictures from that era but I was at my slimmest as an adult and sporting blonde dyed hair  that my nan would do in her kitchen on a Friday tea time with half a bottle of born blonde ready to hit the clubs. As we headed to the new millennium I had progressed well in Ladbrokes now having my own shop and being operations manager at Goodison Park and winning the north west manager tournament. The world was my oyster.

As we entered the year 2000 I was an early adopter of the internet. At 56k dial up and 1p a minute to be online I got a shock when my first internet bill was around £70. 2001 seen me change jobs and I got a new job with Liverpool City Council as a Housing Benefits Officer. The night before I was due to start my parents were coming down with some news to announce. i braced myself for some terrible news about my mum. All sat in the living room I was told my dad had lung cancer and was going in for his lung to be removed. Never have I been hit with a hammer blow like that. In a trance for the next hour my parents left and not being able to digest what had gone on I went to bed totally floored and slept from about 5pm to the next morning when I started my new job which I was nervous about but them nerves soon went as it meant fuck all in the grand scheme of things.

As time raced by I had become an uncle to twins and got engaged to the lucky future Mrs Fay. come 2002 it was time to leave my nan and move in with “me bird” and leaving Aigburth to live in Almond Court in Garston (The site of the old tennies) marriage soon followed 2003 and in 2004 the patter of little feet as Elizabeth Lillian Emma Fay was born. But with life comes death and after a brave battle for many years my mum finally succumbed to cancer in 2005. A bombshell I was 31 and my mum was 58. With my hairline receding and my waistline expanding in 2007 daughter number two came along Charlotte Alison Lillian Fay and the hatrick of girls was completed in 2012 and Holly Grace Eileen Fay. Before Holly was born my nan died at the age of 96. She always said she would be carried out in a box from Wingate Road (what a thing to say) and she had a fall and never recovered. I took her to hospital as a neighbour had called me who had found my nan and she never recovered. I was glad I was the one who got to be with her during her last few days as she played a massive part in my life moving in with her age 18 in 1992 a boy and leaving a man in 2002. As she lived in a council house in the early 2000’s I had bought the house (not really in line with my now socialist beliefs) and so in September 2012 we were all ready to move back to Wingate Road for a third time in my life and the house that my mum and dad dated from. Sadly my dad never got the see the completely renovated house that he used to knock at to pick my mum up as he had fought off a second bout of cancer in the brain but succumbed to pneumonia. So a hatrick of births matched by a hatrick of deaths. Thus ending what could only be described as around 15 years of my life with more ups and downs that a night out a Cream in the nineties. Births of sprogs 1-3 below.

So need to wrap this up now. So much missed out but recent years have been spent making sure my three daughters have the best upbringing they can have and also maintaining a regular supply of alcohol to Mrs Fay. Recent years have been spent running marathons etc with the sole aim of stopping me exploding. No time to go into three trips to Ibiza the numerous trips away in February but a special mention for the single most best ever ever possible amazing moment in my life and Istanbul 2005. Yes I was there and how can i not forget Glastonbury 2010, 2011, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 & 2017 and hopefully 2019 with ticket day being announced yesterday. Oh shit I became a Great Uncle to Penny and what about my 18th birthday night in Kicks and Scotts and my 21st birthday weekend in the 051 and pickwicks.

So as a birthday treat I am going the match tonight as I always remember thinking how boss would it be to have a match on my birthday. I wrote this the night before my birthday necking some double vodka orange taking me on a trip of a lifetime. I have missed things and people out (Apologies) big thanks and love to all mates both old and recent (Including meeting a whole new Fay family who are not related to me !) To any of my family who have managed to stay alive well done and to the in laws who now play a big part in my life now.

 

 

So Neil Fay just one last surprise and the voice from behind the doors is a female one. “Hi Neil its …….” on second thoughts Eamonn bringing out the girl I went out with from 1990-1992 isn’t the best idea as I can see Mrs fay’s face now and I don’t want a fight to match that of Alexis Colby and Krystle Carrington that I watched with my mum back in the day.

45 eh to be continued Grandchildren, Swinging, Benidorm and death !!

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

Birthday update. Prezzies and a Colin The Caterpillar cake received. It is of course a bank holiday as I have never worked on my birthday. Went for a lovely walk down Otterspool and grabbed some breakfast. Time to head the pub for 4pm and birthday beers and footy.

Advertisements

The Porky Personal Trainer (English Half Marathon)

So at the end of my regular running season in June and that pissed off with running that I didn’t even make the start line for my final race of the season (Port Sunlight 10k) I had a brainwave and signed me and Mrs Fay up for The English Half Marathon in September which is based in Warrington. Normally over the summer and especially during a World Cup year the exercise winds down and the burgers and booze ramps up. The idea was that having a decent distance race in September would mean I have to keep up some kind of running over the summer months for a change. it was a mighty fine idea on paper. Well that was until the warmest summer for about 25 years rocked up. Mrs Fay wasn’t too impressed either but with her already completed a half marathon with Faymondo Fitness Training AKA The Porky Personal Trainer we were going to do this. So here is the story of the challenge. Will it all end in glory or would we be one of the first “no contest” divorces that are going to be brought in ?

So as mentioned the summer was a hot one. There is always an excuse not to go out for a run and heat is right up there but we plodded on early summer and got some 6 mile runs in. Sadly I never achieved the beach body in time for our holiday in Cyprus in mid August. I did actually think of going to the gym in the complex during our holiday for a few runs but the lure of a Keo beer in the swim up bar was just too much temptation. So with the holiday out of the way it was time for the last 4 week push post holiday to get us to the start line for the race. I had managed a plodding half marathon dummy run before I went away so I knew I was in a decent place for the final push. I was lucky coming off the back of my running season which included two full marathons (Get me eh !! ) Mrs Fay however had the hardest ladder to climb coming from a  zero base. Luckily the weather in August was more traditional and I dragged Mrs Fay out for training runs often with a scowl on her face and quite a few moans around the routes anything from “I don’t like this road” to “I don’t like running on grass” and ” No stupid routes tonight !” As an experienced fat bastard runner personal trainer I let all the flack bounce off me as previous clients of mine will tell you I get results. As the runs got longer the complaints increased and I used to just put myself in a bubble and think “Imagine a world where there are no contest divorces”

With Mrs Fay putting her longest training run off and off it came to d-day last Friday and she set out on her own to do the 10 miles without me ( I wonder if that was a tactic ? ) she managed to do it but it was hard work at the end. The week leading to race day was surrounded with self doubt and excuse after excuse from Mrs Fay. Distance running is just as much mental as physical and she was met with a “We can do this” from me as I knew that she had reluctantly put in the training needed but it was done and race day would be a good day. So Mrs Fay headed to bed early for a Saturday night as the no sex before a major race rule was invoked. Along side the twice a year rule 1.04 Christmas and Birthdays (I am 45 on Tuesday !! )

So race day came along and up at 7.15 on a Sunday morning for a drive to Warrington and we got out of the car to rain. Mrs Fay was still full of nagging doubts. My main worry was should I wear my waterproof coat. We got to the start line for plenty of time and the normal pre race toilet break was needed. So 9am came and we were soon off and running. Mrs Fay this was it. Lets do this.

After the usual busy start the athletes soon spread out and you could get into your running pattern. A sneaky up hill onto and over a bridge that went over a canal and it transpired that the first 7 miles was sneakily up hill. Nothing major but some long stretches. We were going to sit behind the 2 hours 30 pacer with Mrs Fay thinking she needed to be nearer the 2 hours 45 one but things were going well despite the incline and we moved ahead of the 2:30 pacer. When the hills got on the more steep side of things I would go slightly ahead as my long legs couldn’t physically go any slower and I would then slow down or come back a bit to get back with Mrs Fay. After about 3 miles there was a left for the half marathon runners and a right for the 10k runners. Sadly we had to go left. 7 miles and over half way and after chatting to somebody the course was downhill apart from the small climb over the bridge again and he was correct. Mrs Fay was flying and well on course to smash 02:30. Funny enough she was enjoying the run and very happy with how it was going and not a moan all around the first 10 miles. Heading back into Warrington city centre you could hear the cheers from the end but there were still two miles to eek out. With a surprise turn into The Warrington Wolves stadium running around the pitch and under a stand all that was left was a small incline up into town and then down the other side and along to the finish which were the splendid gates to a park in Warrington. Two of our kids and the in laws had spotted us about 2.5 miles out and then on the home stretch Mrs Fay kicked for home in Ethiopian style and as ever with somebody I help run around I always let them have the victory over me and that was that it was all done in a time of bang on 2 hours 27 mins.

A post race sit down was needed for Mrs Fay and I sneaked off for a wee in some local bogs which has UV light to prevent smackheads but with many male runners in bright orange and lime tops it looked more like a post race rave as the tops and coats glowed under the UV light. Proudly home with our medals Mrs Fay had a bath and I walked the dogs as once that was done all I had planned was a post race snooze followed by sport and a bevy.

After 13.1 miles of sheer hell your gonna get thirsty. This is Desperados. It gets to your thirst fast. Its not Isotonic but its tasty and at 5.9% it gets you pissed. Take sport seriously.

So there we have it. A massive well done to Mrs Fay you literally smashed it and I hope you enjoy your well deserved wine. It didn’t end in divorce but glory. Remember folks The Porky Personal trainer guarantees results. Next on the hit list is an old friend Helen who has just started running and says I can never do a half marathon. Music to my ears.

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

Edit I was papped by The Warrington Guardian

There’s a rat in my office what am I going to do ?

So Tuesday whilst in work (I work from my office at home) I heard a rustling in the corner of my office. After removing junk from the corner there was nothing there. Must have been a large inset on the paper I removed. Fast forward 10 mins and the rustling started again this time closer to me and to the bottom left corner of the office by my feet. Very strange I had come to the conclusion that there must be a mouse or heavens forbid a rat under my office floor but as it was under the floor I was safe from harm.

So Thursday night I was rudely interrupted at 4.30am by our house alarm going off. That was the cue for me and Mrs Fay to dash downstairs and after a quick check everything was secure and the alarm said it was my office sensor that had been tripped. Again I was thinking fly or insect of some kind but it was near 6am when I got back to sleep due to the adrenaline settling down after bring myself for a would be intruder. I have had a house burgled before and its a very bad experience to go through and one you never quite get over. So because of this I had slightly later than planned start to work on Friday.

Not long into work and I spotted something down to left. A small mouse who looked at me and then buggered off. Aghhhhhhhhhhhh ! Now I might be 6ft 3 inches, scouse and the best part of 17 stone but I am what can only be described as a big shithouse when it comes to rodents, many insects, frogs…………..well you get the picture. The next 30 mins was spent trying to catch the mouse. I say spent but it was Mrs Fay and the sister in law who were trying to catch the mouse whilst I issued instructions through as small gap in the door I had closed. Anyway they couldn’t catch it and I was about to return to work when it literally ran across my desk. Shaking like a shitting dog that was enough for me and I had logged off work (Worst excuse ever for not working set) and went down to the nearest shop to buy a humane mouse trap.

By the time I had got home the house alarm was going off due to our scousemouse and with the trap set I nervously returned to work as being self employed no work equals no pay and this mouse had already cost me sleep and he wasn’t going to cost me wages ! I eventually caught my hours up in work but was a nervous wreck all day jumping out my skin when the dog brushed past my leg and another time when a fly or something landed on me. I needed to go out for a jog (for my own sanity) and gave the neighbour a key and alarm details and said that the alarm might go off as i have a mouse and just switch it off if it does. As if my magic 6 miles and one hour later as I turned the corner into my road the alarm went off. I looked through the crack in my office door and spotted scouse mouse scurrying into my printer !! I later spotted him going back to his favourite corner and I phoned Mrs Fay who brought in another 4 humane traps and we left the alarm off on Friday night. Mouse war was declared at 7.43pm and I went with one trap with some Mars Bar and 4 other traps with peanut butter in. We had also lost a child as the middle daughter stayed out at her nans due to “mouse fear” I mean come on its only a small mouse get over it !!!

Saturday morning and I was up for overtime at 7am and nervously checked all the traps and the little bastard wasn’t in there. A quick check around my office later on and he had actually pulled some of the Mars Bar out of the trap and been munching on it being my computer desk. Thankfully with no sightings on Saturday work was a bit easier but I was still on edge. I had declared to the mouse that Saturday night was going to be his last chance and if he wasn’t caught by Sunday morning then the big guns of normal mouse traps were going to be released as well as I wasn’t heading into a new working week shitting myself over a mouse and if he got splatted then had missed his chance of freedom. I finished work and took the dogs for a walk. I returned from a lovely mouse free walk and thought I will check on the traps. As I opened the office door I could hear the now traditional rustling and was working out where the noise was coming from. As I bravely entered the room I had a visual on traps one and two both returning a negative. Next up the Mars Bar trap the he had cheekily taken some after I got too greedy putting too much in so the mechanics meant he didn’t need go in far enough and he made his escape. This time though the lure of the Mars Bar was too much and he had fallen for the bait. Quickly placed into an empty tin of quality street for a second layer of security we took him to the bottom of Holts Field and away he went (Video on Twitter link below)

And with that balance was brought back to my office and I can relax pic.twitter.com/GPAlIEaVug

— Neil George Fay (@Faymondo73) September 8, 2018

I had to film scousemouse being freed so that my middle daughter would come back to live with us and after a stressful few days the house is mouse free and I can relax in work next week. The bigger they are the harder they fall and to be honest i have had a moment even now writing this blog where I have looked nervously down to my leg thinking something had touched it !!

I celebrated the liberation of my office from enemy mice with a trip to The Invisible Wind Factory to watch The Daft Punk Orchestra and took my 19 year old nephew along with me and danced the night away without a mouse care in the world. I even took him to The Cavern Pub and The Cavern which he had never been to ??? I fell in after 2am and had some crackers in my office enjoying the freedom I now had. Obviously no cheese on my crackers as I dont want to temp fate and have a sequel to “Mousegate”

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

 

Back To Skool Yerrrrrrrrrrsssssssss !

“Schools out for summer” as the song Schools Out by Alice Cooper goes and the kids come jumping and cheering out of school and every parent grimaces unless you are a teacher. As far as I know there isn’t a “Back To Skool” song. The nearest I could get was an old classic ZX Spectrum game “Back to Skool” But a “Back to skool” song should be made and could be accompanied by an orchestra of millions of relieved parents. Tomorrow the youngest goes back to infants and Tuesday will see middle daughter start senior school and the eldest starting her GCSE year (Shit is getting real girl !! ) So you might think that the loud cheers ringing around Aigburth this evening are from The Fusion Festival being held down Otterspool but are in fact me and Mrs Fay cheering and having a bevy on Back To Skool Eve. I say cheering but in reality I am crying into my Desperados as Mrs Fay has informed me it has cost us £400 to uniform the bastards little cherubs. This doesn’t include the two bus passes we need to buy as well. This coming hot on the heals of our family holiday and the added bonus of me being self employed and getting a big fat zero when on holiday if we were a football team we would be teetering on the brink of administration. In reality though we are lucky as we can and will scrape by and after all have just had a week in Cyprus. For many families in Liverpool and across the country uniform time can be a tough time of year. With schools insistent on expensive blazers (I wonder how much of a kick back they get from the shops that provide them) and some insisting on PE kits being embroidered with names on ? With lab coats and other things “needed” in schools the bill soon racks up and thats before bags and back to school pens etc and of course the all important compass so you can stab yer mates with it. So bring on national “Take a picture of your kids in front of the front door in their uniform” day

This summer seems to have gone faster than normal and its hard at times working from home with the gang in the house for two reasons (A) They are noisy and (B) you just want to be off with them as well but we are here September 2nd and we have made it through just about even if the youngest was testing at times towards the end of the holidays. The eldest is rounding the weekend off with two days down at The Fusion Festival getting on a “workers” bands following proudly in the footsteps of her father who was an “Artist” last Saturday at Creamfields for an access all areas Saturday festival appearance CREAMFIELDS blog here

The summers excess is taking a toll on my waistline which was made worse by the fact that it was a World Cup year and the weather just screamed “Drink Cider, Drink Cider” at me. But two weeks today me and Mrs Fay are doing The English Half Marathon in Warrington and this is the start of my next challenge with coincides with me being 45 on the 18th September. I have set myself a challenge of doing one half marathon race a month from September 2018 to August 2019. I hate the fives so my challenge is to be fitter and slimmer when I reach 46 then I was when I was 26 !!!

So as we are on the second day of autumn in the weather world and many of you know me via my @Liverpoolweath Twitter page of Liverpool Weather Facebook Page I can confirm that this summer has gone as below.

Summer stats for Liverpool (June-Aug)

Ave Temp 19.50c
Ave summers 91-17 17.48c.
Max 32.2c 26th & 29th June
9 days 30c or over.

Rain 122.4mm
Ave rain 04-17 220.2mm

A hotter and drier summer than average

Only 1995 beat it for temp 19.85c

Driest summer on my records (from 2004)

So at last we have had a boss summer even if it did just tail off a bit in August. I am gonna have a boss next week as the kids are back in school. But sadly things are not great in the world as the headline below shows. Let this evenings back to school party commence with a Desperados and I have even bought myself a little Colin The Caterpillar cake and remember never let your sister die you a designer vagina.

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

Yerrrrrrrrsssss they really are back to school get in :0)

Creamfields 2018 (Saturday)

So Saturday lunchtime and I was chilling and thinking about a wedding reception I was to attend that evening and a text drops asking if I wanted to go to Creamfields today. A few more details received and it was an access all areas ticket. Hmmmmm last nights £3 flowers I bought from Tesco wasn’t going to be enough and I was thinking even a night with Robbie Williams wouldn’t do the trick. Anyway Mrs Fay is a goodun and she allowed me to go and by 4pm I was heading up to Daresbury for Creamfields 21. Funny enough 14 years a go to this very day I was planning on popping out on my lunch break to get my Creamfields ticket when i got a call from the womens hospital to say Mrs Fay was not coming out and that I needed to get there ASAP. The next morning ickle Elizabeth Fay was born 5 weeks early at just 3 pounds and my Creamfields career was over. Now 15 years since the last one the hiatus was to be over.

We arrived on site and entered the artists accreditation area. My mate was playing (Babalou) and I had promoted myself to be his production manager and after the sniffer dogs had given us the once over we had picked up out artists beer and food token and we headed into the artists area. We then headed out and had a look around the site and there were plenty of sites to see and people already in various states of “enhancement” The site was a mixture of tents and some man made structures as well including a bull ring type venue and the now famous Cream Steelyard building. I must admit the site was much more impressive than I had imagined with two large outdoor stages and things have definitely moved on over the 15 years since I last attended. The Speke Creamfields had developed into a festival for the kiddas of Liverpool but with this having a camping area and spread over several days it had a more of a festival feel though there were a few gangs of Ket Wig kiddas decked out in black with their manbags. A quick look into the hospitality tent and we left that armed with some cans of San Miguel and we headed back to the Steelyard to see Camelphat. We managed to get backstage and onto the stage. The crowd were lapping it up and through the smoke there was just a few rays of sunlight entering the tent which made for a cracking scene. Thousands upon thousands of happy faces looking my way in adulation of Camelphat not me the fat camel in an Adidas trackie top. Anyway the decks for the next set had been put in front of us ready to wheel on and I couldn’t resist posing for a photograph to make it look like I was DJ’ing to the masses. It gave me an insight into what it must be like for a footballer to scorer a massive goal and look at the faces and celebrations of the fans.

 

So leaving the excellent Camelphat as my mate Babalou was to play on The Red Bull tent and behind the DJ booth was a crate of San Miguel. Happy days as I danced for the hour and amount of people in the tent ebbed and flowed as the set progressed. En route to a toilet break I took in one of the main stages and a smaller stage nearby and with me representing The KLF with my t-shirt I couldn’t resist taking a photograph of an ice cream van even if it wasn’t The KLF (Make mine a 99)

So a final potter around the site and 7 hours of boozing had caught up with us and we headed home just as I imagine the party was starting for some people around midnight and due to this got an Uber cab dead easy after some hackney wanted £80 of us !!

It was an excellent day and who would have though that this near 45 year old washed up “Cheesy Quaver” would attend another Creamfields festival and not only that have access all areas which put a very interesting and privileged view on the days events. You know your getting old when you go to Creamfields and still get in earlier than the wife and kids who went to a wedding. How the mighty have fallen. On the plus side I woke up this morning at 10am right as rain as opposed to a three day wipe out after Creamfields 2003 and below is me at that very festival taken at 2.53am I was hardcore then

 

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

The Fay Family Holiday 2018 – Pontins (Southport)

So we were all up last Thursday nice and early to catch the first Merseryrail train to Southport for The Fay Family holiday to Pontins (Southport) It had been a tough year as a freelance worker but I counted up the 5p jar and the family needed a much needed pick me up so I treated them to a holiday. In reality the 5p jar is empty but thanks to credit cards “tarting” it was a week in Cyprus and a return to Avanti Village in Cyprus where we went in 2015. There is a whole wide world out there and I dont like going back to places but the kids enjoyed it and with only going for a week we could dive straight into holiday mode without having to find out where to go in the resort etc so made a return visit.

So with the flight out going all as planned and the kids amazed at TV’s in the seat in front (Even if there were like something from the year 2000) we were eventually in the pool for about 4pm and time for a beer at the swim up bar showing off my newly Veeted (Immac for old skoolers) back to stop me looking like a cousin of Chewbakka. Once that was done it was time to head the supermarket and stock up on Keo beer and munchies. To my amazement there were no Jamon Ruffles. The highlight of any previous family holiday is sitting on the veranda half pissed on a balmy evening in just my shorts scoffing a Jamon Ruffles crisp butty. Then when finished locating several dropped ruffles in my chest hair (Cant shave that off as it would show how big my moobs are) and having a second helping of Ruffles.

So the first proper full day Friday and I was dragged out by the kids to get some lilo’s. Now the world of lilo’s has moved on since I were a lad and you just got a red one (For Liverpool) and it cost about 200 Pesetas. This years trend was the unicorn lilo coming it at around 30 Euro’s. Now I have three daughters and wasn’t spending 90 Euro’s on bloody lilo’s thus denting The Desperados kitty and after many shops outing for prices and varieties I got them down to a smaller Pink Flamingo and a Whale. Flamingo made it home but the Whale burst on day 1 !! Some of the lilo’s stretched into the 50 euro’s bracket (Giant grapefruits and double ringed Unicorns) Based on the lilo’s for sale I roughly calculated that 5% of the GDP of Cyprus is from the sales of lilos.

Now the Germans historically get stick for putting towels on the sunbeds early doors but as this was a very much UK and family orientated complex you had to get up early putting a towel out and if there were any Germans on site they would have been as shocked about that as their early World Cup exit. In other towel news on the apartments opposite and above there was a Manchester United versus Liverpool “Towel off”

As the days just merged into one of a nice morning stroll on my own, playing in the pool. Beers at the swim up bar around 5pm and then out for something to eat and drink memories of the holiday all blur into one. We did let the eldest have a “Sex on the beach” which was accompanied by a traditional dad joke about it and I did manage a bit of time on my own as reward for keeping the kids entertained in the pool. This mainly involved footy and one bar had that many games on a Saturday afternoon I appreciated the job that Jeff Stelling does on sky keeping it all together as goals were flying in everywhere. I of course had the pleasure of United getting beat whilst noticing Mixed Fruit Koppaberg abroad is about 5.3% compared to the 4.0% piss we get ??

We split the week up by having a day at the water park. Mrs Fay was brave enough to go on a few of the more less thrill seeking rides. I had a go on everything. On one of the tamest rides I managed to end up going backwards most the way on my rubber ring ending the ride with a 360 somersault to finish. The young Cypriot attendant ran over with a look of worry on his face and said “Are you alright sir” to which I just shook some water off and cooly said “Yeah no problem” whilst inside thinking “Fucking hell I might have been inches from a wheelchair then” Funny how when you get older the fear (And danger) of everything creeps in. I did of course go on the kamikaze etc and think being a hefty 6ft 3 frame added velocity to everything I went on in the waterpark and as I found out the morning after the water park I must have had internal bruising of both my upper arse cheeks thanks to the more danger rides !!

So with one night local and then the next night down at the harbour area the 7 days soon quickly passed but I am always happy to come home after 7 days. Coming home all was looking good as the plane we were due to get had left Manchester but by the time we got to the airport it was a three hour delay as the out coming flight had to return to Manchester not long after a technical fault occurred. It was at that point I thought me and Mrs Fay should really make a will though I did not pass this thought onto Mrs Fay who doesn’t like flying. After all I would hate you all to be fighting over who gets what when we had died a tragic death and after all my gadgets had been sold off there was still one credit card and half my overdraft still outstanding.

Lovely to have quality time with just the five of us. Mrs Fay was mostly well behaved for the 7 days apart from a few moments and the kids also behaved most of the time. So in the end thanks to a speedy turn around of the plane (No new food and drink loaded) they managed to keep the delay under three hours so no compo claim. I did queue up for the 8 euros each for us all though sadly as I was driving when we got to Manchester I couldn’t spend the 40 Euros on several pints of Keo and instead had to water and feed the sprogs !

Crash bang wallop and Friday decked out in tracksuit bottoms (First time my legs have been covered up for months) and my raincoat I headed out in the chilly 12c hoping to dodge the heavy showers and was soon picking dog shit up on Sudley Field again. I consoled myself with a sausage roll from Sayers before I commence the 18th diet of 2018. I did manage to get a “Sausage Pie” on holiday but this was jarg and was a hot dog in a pastry roll but at least things are heading in the right direction on the foreign sausage roll front.

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

Just say no kids (And original Ronaldo)

So walking the dogs up Sudley Field the other evening and there were some kids spinning around inhaling a substance out of a balloon. The effects must of lasted about 15 seconds and to be honest I reckon they would have has a better laugh if they just inhaled a bit and spoke to each other in high pitched voice like everybody does with the balloons tied to bag of sand disguised in a pretty box that are on tables at the end of a wedding when bladdered. It is such a shame how society is breaking down and the youth of 2018 are resorting to such shennanagins for entertainment. When I were a lad back in 1990 I would have been up Sudley Field with my posse after security at the IM Marsh security over the road couldn’t take any more of our antics. We wouldn’t have resorted to such things as balloons. No we were far too pre occupied with getting slaughtered on a litre bottle of Stock Bianco (A poor mans Cinzano Bianco) and singing along to Deacon Blue songs (Maybe thats what tipped the IM Marsh security boys over the edge) and then having a bop to “Ride On Time’ by Black Box. Using our creative juices literally to use a few 10p carton drinks as mixer and doubling up as a glass to neck our Stock Bianco out of. What must the dogs walkers of the 1990’s thought of our antics ? Saying “When I were a lad we used to just go the local milk bar for a jive” Now I am the dog walker. Next time I am gonna go up to them and say “Giz a go otherwise I will tell yer auld fella” but only do a small bit of the ballon and in a voice similar to Joe Pasquale say “This is shit here’s a litre of Stock Bianco” do a high pitched giggle and walk down the hill back to ours shouting back “Search for Pump Up The Jam by Technotronic on Spotify on your phone kidda’s”

In other drug related news is seems that original Ronaldo has been hospitalised in Ibiza with Flu. Yeah we have all been there Ronny. The old Ibiza “Flu” Ronaldo assured fans on social media on Sunday that he was fine and would soon be ready to go home after suffering “a heavy bout of flu” I wonder what club he went to on the Saturday night ? Or was he hardcore and been out since Friday ? Guess we will never know as what goes on in Ibiza stays in Ibiza. Get well soon Ronny and enjoy your Lemsip just don’t try and snort it ! Funny enough it comes exactly a year ago since I came out of retirement and went to Ibiza Read about it here

As the football season is back after football never came home and another little bit of me died on Sunday despite a Liverpool win and going top of the league. I liked the old days when the first table was produced after about 3 games. Also there is no need to be putting lines on for qualification and relegation again in the old days when these popped on on the graphics you knew it was the business end of the season. Anyway I spotted on the digital advertising around the ground Petro-Canada Lubricants “Liverpool’s official lubricant partner” Jesus I know football fans are getting screwed over all the time but do they need official lubricants now to ease the pain of being fisted for cash from their team. Again I preferred the old days of a Davy Liver taxi advertising in the corner. In fact I think I just prefer the old days. Speaking of which I am off to crack open the litre bottle of Stock Bianco I have bought. If you live in the Aigburth Vale area of Liverpool listen out for a merry man singing Deacon Blue songs echoing around the enogs of Aigburth “Can this white man sing the blooooooooooooos”

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

It’s a In-tree-guing blog

Just the one tree pun I promise. Well whilst walking the dogs yesterday lunchtime I noticed that the dead tree on Sudley Field was getting cut down. To be fair bits of it were falling off every time it was windy and I had visions of it toppling onto me due to a rotten core. So by the time I went on the evening dog walk the dead tree was no more and all that was left was the stump and a large part of the trunk. It was attracting attention of fellow dog walkers on the field. I will post a few pictures and first up is the tree in all its dead glory earlier on in the year. Second up is the tree as it looked this evening and finally a picture of the cross section of the stump. As ever click the image for a larger version.

Luckily enough somebody had already been as sad as me and wanted to try out some dendrochronology and attempted to count the rings and it was put at around 100 years old. You can see on the cross section that the older the tree got the less it grew. The darker rings indicate growth towards the end of the summer. Mad to think that this tree was not more than a sapling when my nan was born in 1915. I played junior football on Sudley Field in the mid 1980’s and no doubt many of my shots would have hit this tree (indicated by a small ring growth !! ) Anyway on the opposite side of the field are some now medium size trees. I actually remember these being planted around 1982 as they were staked and we used two of them as a goal !! Nearly 40 years later these bastard trees remind me of how old I am. Indeed you know your knocking on a bit when you start measuring your life in trees. So there you go I have gone all Swampy Eco Warrior on you but it was an intriguing start to this blog.

The next decision of the evening was do I go for a jog or go the chippy for my tea ? Run the chippy was suggested to me on Twitter but I went for a nice evening stroll anyway and was that warm I didn’t fancy chippy anyway in the end ! I ended up walking around Sefton Park for a bit marvelling at the massive houses around the perimeter and thinking I would love to live in one of these. The wife, three daughters and me would have plenty of room and if I positioned myself correctly in the house it was that big that I could actually think I live on my own and have no noise from aforementioned wife and three kids and we could meet in the dining room for meals and then I could return to my “boys room” loft or cellar ! There was a lovely pink sunset over Lark Lane and when walking down there I was accosted by a man in an electric wheelchair asking for a pound to put towards a taxi. I only had sports clobber on so had no pockets with money in and thankfully beggars haven’t yet entered the world of contactless payments. I made my excuses and walked on. It then dawned on me was I being arlarse in thinking hang on a minute mate you are sitting in a personal electric taxi ?? Anyway he was soon razzing over the other side of the late trying to bum a pound from somebody else. Perhaps I was being too harsh not knowing his full issues ? Speaking of issues on Sunday I posted and sent something and as I was doing it I actually made myself laugh. Is this the first sign of insanity or is it good to make yourself laugh ? Am I that funny that you are laughing with me. Or are you now laughing at me as I laugh at myself. Am I laughing now ? These questions and many others will be answered on the next Faymondo Blog.

Final mention for Barry Chuckle and the only thing getting me through this tragic loss is that the fat Chuckle is still alive. Hope for me yet !!

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x

A Cultural Review Of Glasgow

A bonus edition of the now famous “A Cultural Review Of ……….” Previous editions can be found by clicking the links Wroclaw   Riga Tallinn Krakow Warsaw Hamburg Stuttgart Douglas Berlin and the bonus editions Benllech Edinburgh 

So the excuse occasion this time was that my 66 year old father in law has just retired from work. It would be a whole new blog going through what jobs he has had but the later period of his life was spent being a teacher. But thats it now. He finished on Wednesday and we dragged him to Glasgow on Friday. Not sure what he is going to do with his time now (I need a bike shed building) but I am sure he will keep himself busy with his hobby of bike riding (I need a bike shed building) So with the sole aim of getting him ending up wearing a kilt and one of those tartan hats with inbuilt ginger wig did we manage it ? Read on. Luckily enough I was able to go but had to put off that bike shed construction I had planned.

So with Lime St being shut we arranged to meet at Prescot station and had a beer on the platform to send us on our way. A change at Wigan and another beer en route we were in Preston with plenty of time to spare and met two of the other lads and had a couple of pints in Preston and couple of beers to carry onto the Glasgow train and at 8pm the magnificent seven were in Glasgow. Desperate for the toilet we refused to spend 40p in Glasgow station for a piss but instead ended up going to an expensive boozer instead. After working out we were going in the wrong direction for the hotel we got back en route and stopped off for a pint in The Grant Arms and come across our first interaction with the locals. Walking in behind the couple they were on the verge of splitting up but must have patched things up before they got the the bar and after a chat with them they described one of the magnificent 7 as “Pot Ugly” the other six of us managed to pick ourselves off the floor due to laughter and all secretly breathed a large sigh of relief it wasn’t us. I had planned on having a moment listening to “Raintown” by Deacon Blue whilst walking around Glasgow in the rain. That dream soon passed and all it seemed to do on Friday night was piss down. I did manage a rendition of “Dignity” with one of the lads on karaoke and we were dodging in and out of the rain en route to more pubs. The rain was that bad that we had a first for one of our cultural review trips and we had to purchase some umbrellas out of the kitty !! So we ended up at some bar with a 3am closing time and got kicked out of there about 3.15am and it was time to sway home in the rain stopping off for some chips on the way home. The latter bit of the evening is a blur.

So I had boxed myself off a nice double bed and having fell into bed around 3.45am I was soon wide awake not long after 8am. What the hell was all that about. Luckily there was no hangover as I was obviously still pissed. I headed off to Wetherspoons for breakfast and a bottle of Mixed fruit Koppaberg purely for thirst reasons and off we headed back on it for Saturday’s adventures. To keep us of the ale we decided we were going to head up to watch Partick Thistle play. We got on the Glasgow underground which for some reason seemed like a miniature railway and a couple of stops later and a small walk we were in a boozer with some of the home fans and we necked a few before the match in The Woodside Inn. So we got to the stadium with plenty of time to avoid the rush and it was only £12 to get in. Or £6 if you were an old bastard as somebody was. Inside the ground there was no ale on sale so I consoled myself with a very tasty Partick thistle official club sausage roll. Pre match there was a scary official mascot and some poor defending has the visitors Ayr United one up. The attendance was 2,871 though this was at least 7 down for the second half as we all decided to bail to the pub due to thirst and it being quite windy in the stand and we had only just dried out from the Friday night. For the record the result was Partick 0 Ayr 2. The next boozer up was The Munns Vaults and again we met one of Glasgows more interesting characters.

Link Here For Video

So outside we had a chat with our Scottish raver who was called Duncan. He even let me have a listen to what was playing (Dance music surprise surprise) and he adopted one of our gang as “wee man” and said he was now like family. A lovely fella but just absolutely mad !!

So taxis into town again and we went a bar that had let us in for one last 11pm drink on the Friday and this time it was full and we ended up in a jukebox singalong with some young Scott’s. We then headed to The Horseshoe to see if we could get the Liverpool game on but it was not to be  and so we watched the boxing instead. As the night wore on I was feeling the 4hrs 21 min sleep I had the night before after 12 hours on the grog and decided to bail. Dont get me wrong I was pissed again but just knackered and bailed home just after 12am and with some chips on the way home again was back in the hotel not long after. Things are never easy bevvied and trying to get in my room my card wouldn’t work. I went downstairs and he boxed off my key. But alas after another hike to the 6th floor it didnt work. Back downstairs again and he must have just taken one last look at my weary pissed face and he escorted me upstairs and let me in my room.

On Saturday night I did manage a more respectable 7 hours 38 of sleep and with another Wetherspoon’ breakfast we were in the station and ready to head home. Now if I had only received a pound for every time I was called “Big Man” in Glasgow I would be rich. Just one last bit of drama and we had to sprint at Wigan to avoid missing our train to Liverpool and made it with about 1 minute to spare as the seven of us were out of breath and ale oozing out of sweaty bodies after the “Wigan dash” So that was that. No time to mention “Token birds” or whatever “Eddie on the door was” (I cant remember) Again another belter couple of days and Glasgow was a great city and we only just scratched the surface of it meeting some nice people and some memorable people. Time to recover from two days hardcore drinking and dream of a bike shed. Happy retirement to my father in law Dave and here he is below at the match with his eldest son Eddie (On the right) and we didnt managed a kilt and tartan hat with ginger wig. But there are six of us proud as punch as we are not “Pot Ugly”

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x x