Me Myself and I

"Dreams Conquer Demons" A Letter too my boys

My precious boys, these words I write for you,
A letter filled with love, advice, and truth.
I've battled demons, shadows in my soul,
A struggle hidden, a tale left untold.

To cope with pain, I sought a dark escape,
Through drugs and drink, my heart did ache.
But I implore you, sons, do not be afraid,
When darkness looms, seek help, don't evade.

Embrace your fears, your worries, and your strife,
Share your burdens, in seeking light, find life.
For in vulnerability, strength is found,
Reach out your hand, let love surround.

Chase your dreams, my boys, with all your might,
Though others scoff, ignore their spite.
Passion's flame, once ignited, will ignite,
And lead you through the darkest night.

Regrets, I carry some within my heart,
Not heeding dreams when young, I played my part.
I listened to the doubters, lost my way,
But my love for you ignites hope's ray.

Learn from my errors, don't let fear subdue,
Be bold, be brave, be steadfast and true.
No dream too grand, no vision too high,
With grit and courage, you'll touch the sky.

So let this letter be a guiding light,
A beacon of hope to embrace the night.
Remember, sons, to never lose the fight,
Believe in yourselves, your futures bright.

Anything is possible, my dear boys, you see,
When you set your minds and spirits free.
With love as your compass and dreams as your wings,
Soar high, my angels, to what your heart sings.

So I'm back in therapy again and I've been speaking to my therapist about my writings over the past few weeks and she challenged me to write a poem about my adoption a while ago. So after alot of going back and forth and the occasional meltdown I've ended up with this.

In the realm of innocence, a young boy dwells, His heart a canvas, where pure wonder swells. But a gentle whisper echoes through his soul, Telling tales that leave him feeling less whole.

Words drift upon the wind, carried by fate's decree, Revealing a truth he struggles to perceive. "Dear child, you are adopted," they softly spoke, Unveiling secrets, emotions they awoke.

Like a fragile bud, his mind began to bloom, Questions danced, casting shadows of gloom. He gazes at the mirror, searching for a trace, Of echoes from his past, a familiar face.

Confusion lingers, a mist upon his eyes, A tapestry woven with fragmented ties. Why does the world seem different from before? Why does his heart feel tugged and sore?

A symphony of emotions, in turmoil it resides, In the depths of longing, his innocence hides. Silent tears fall, like raindrops from the sky, Aching to comprehend, asking the heavens why.

But beneath the weight of uncertainty's reign, A flicker of hope kindles amidst the pain. For love knows no boundaries, nor flesh nor blood, It's the bond that transcends, like a rising flood.

In the arms of his family, a safe harbor he finds, Unconditional love, an eternal bind. For they chose him, cherished his every breath, Nurturing his spirit, embracing life's breadth.

With time, understanding will find its embrace, Wounds will heal, and acceptance will grace. For he is more than just the sum of his birth, A tapestry woven with love and infinite worth.

In the whispers of the wind, a tale is spun, Of a young boy's journey, where healing is begun. Though the road may be winding, he'll find his way, For love's guiding light will illuminate each day.

So, let the tears fall and the emotions unfurl, For in vulnerability, strength begins to twirl. And in this tale of a boy who learned to see, A testament to resilience, a heart set free.

Windows of Empathy

In the realm where emotions sway, Two souls traverse life's winding way. One basks in light, serene and free, While the other struggles, trapped in agony.

In the garden of the mind's expanse, Windows of Tolerance start their dance. For the fortunate, a tranquil view, A spectrum of hues, emotions true. Their window's wide, a gentle embrace, A haven where calmness finds its space.

But for the burdened, it's a haunting sight, Their window's narrow, obscuring light. Anxious winds howl, tormenting storms brew, Their fragile vessel, barely breaking through. Lost in shadows, where demons reside, They fight to grasp hope, but hope seems to hide.

Within the garden's boundaries, they stand, These two figures, one steady, one unmanned. The balanced soul, with strength imbued, Can weather trials, and peace pursue. Their window's threshold, it gently sways, Accepting life's challenges, come what may.

Yet the troubled heart, consumed by pain, Finds solace fleeting, efforts in vain. Their window, rigid, a fragile frame, Shutting out the world, engulfed in shame. Every step forward feels like a fall, Trapped within a prison, feeling small.

Oh, the contrast in these windows' size, Between the one who soars and the one who cries. But let us not cast judgment or disdain, For the winds of life can shift, and bring change. In empathy's embrace, we find the key, To understand the depths of each reality.

Let kindness be our guiding light, To widen the windows, dispel the night. Through love's compassion, may healing arise, Offering solace to those plagued by sighs. For the window's breadth, it's not fixed or set, With nurturing care, it can widen yet.

In this journey called life, let's extend a hand, To bridge the gap, and help others withstand. May we foster empathy and support each soul, Creating a world where all hearts can be whole. For the windows of tolerance, when opened wide, Allow us to stand united, side by side

Alright, folks, gather around and lend me your ears, because I've got a tale that will make your hair stand on end. You see, I used to be a skeptic, just like Joe Rogan, but I've had a change of heart. I've become a firm believer in otherworldly beings, UFOs, and all that good stuff. And let me tell you, the powers that be they're hiding something big. Real big.

Now, why would they keep this quiet, you ask? Well, imagine if society found out for certain that there are beings from another world out there. Chaos, my friends, pure chaos. People would lose their minds faster than a politician going back on a promise. The whole fabric of society would unravel, leaving us in a state of utter madness.

Just think about the current crisis weve faced recently. We've had people rioting, looting, and hoarding goods from shops. It would be like the apocalypse is knocking on our door, but we're too busy binging on Netflix to notice. Now, let's take that chaos and multiply it by a thousand. That's what would happen if the world discovered aliens are real and they decided to invade.

So, picture this: a small town in Dorset. Now, this town is like any other quaint English village, with its charming pubs a high street full of charity shops and youths on every street corner. But when the invasion begins, oh boy, the inhabitants would be in for a wild ride.

The locals, armed with nothing but their pints and a over supply of toilet rolls, would try their best to fight off these extraterrestrial intruders. They'd stumble out of the pubs, ale in one hand and a cricket bat in the other, shouting things like, "Oi, you spacemen, bu**er off!"

But let's be honest here, folks. No one would stand a chance. These aliens would probably take one look at the town and wonder if they accidentally landed in the middle of a Shakespearean play. They'd scratch their heads, thinking, "stupid hairless monkeys"

And the poor folks would give it their all, using every nook and cranny of their town as a battleground. The aliens would be baffled as they're bombarded with fish and chips, cricket balls, and cries of "Don't mess with the Dorset locals, mate!"

In the end, though, it would all be in vain. They would be the punchline of a galactic joke, a cautionary tale for the universe about the perils of invading a place with an excessive number of pubs and population of basic individuals.

So, my friends, let's hope the powers that be keep their secrets hidden, for the sake of our sanity. And remember, sometimes laughter is the best defense against the unknown, so keep your jokes sharp and your pints full. Cheers!

Crazy Loves Crazy 🤪

So, a year ago, I walked out of this eight-year-long relationship. Yeah, I know, but theres only so much arguing and awkward silences a man can take. We had two boys together, Lennie and Stanley. They're the reason I now know every word to every Disney song ever made. You want a rendition of "Let It Go"? I got you covered.

Living on my own turned out to be a lot harder than I anticipated. First of all, there are these things called dishes. Turns out, they don't magically clean themselves. I tried waiting it out, but after a month, I was eating cereal with my hands, and that's when I knew things had hit rock bottom. And let's not forget the solitude. Talking to yourself is fine until you start questioning your own sanity. "How was your day, Andy?" "Oh, you know, just talked to myself all day. No big deal."

But then, one night, I mustered up the courage to enter the treacherous world of online dating. It's like stepping into a minefield of emotions and unsolicited pictures of... yeah, you know what I mean. It's like every woman is on edge, probably because they're bombarded with more dick pics than a urologist's inbox. Not cool, fellas. Not cool.

But amidst the chaos, I stumbled upon a cute Scottish blonde named Mhairi. And let me tell you, our first date was amazing. She had this fantastic sense of humor, and the banter was off the charts. I was hooked. So hooked, in fact, that I ended up moving in with her family in Weston-super-Mare, a seaside town in the south-west of England. Her family? Utter lunatics. Crazy as a box of frogs, but never a dull moment. Just Genuinely nice people.

After a couple of months, Mhairi and I decided it was time for our own place. So, we got our first flat together. Now, let me tell you, getting to know a whole new person after being in a long-term relationship is no joke. You have to figure out each other's boundaries, what irritates the other person, and who's responsible for the "pink and blue" jobs. I'm on cooking duty, and I'm the official garbage man. Mhairi, bless her heart, handles the dishes and the laundry. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?

But here's the thing: we both come with our fair share of emotional baggage. We've got trauma. And let me tell you, when both parties are having a rough day, it's like a rollercoaster ride through the Upside Down. But we've learned that honest and open communication is key. And let's face it, we're both certifiably insane, so we need all the talking we can get.

And guess what? A year into this whirlwind relationship, we're engaged! Yeah, that's right. Crazy loves crazy. It's been a wild ride, but I couldn't be happier.

Why Parenting a house rabbit is harder than parenting your kids!! 🐇

Why parenting a house rabbit is harder than parenting your own kids! 🐇

Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you about our little house rabbit, Mandy. Now, I love my boys, don't get me wrong, but parenting Mandy? It's Chaos!!

First of all, Mandy is a lady, and my boys are boys. Let me tell you, dealing with a teenage rabbit with attitude is like dealing with a whole army of teenage boys. She's got sass for days, and she couldn't care less about what I say.

And the fluff! Oh, the fluff! It's like a constant blizzard in my house. I've had to hire a professional vacuum cleaner operator just to keep up with Mandy's shedding. My boys shed too, but at least I can give them haircuts!

But it doesn't stop there, folks. Mandy's got a habit of leaving little "gifts" all over the floor. Every day, I play a game of "Avoid the Bunny Bombs" in my own home. I mean, my boys have had their moments, but at least they understand the concept of a toilet.

Now, let's talk about affection. My boys are the cuddliest kids you'll ever meet. They shower me with hugs and kisses. Mandy? Well, she gives me the cold shoulder. I guess I'm just not as appealing as a chewed-up power cable.

Speaking of which, Mandy has a knack for destruction. She's got a taste for wires, folks. She's chewed through more cables than a starving piranha. My boys, on the other hand, they take care of their belongings. They treat their toys like they're made of gold.

And here's the kicker, folks. Mandy has these suicidal tendencies. I'm telling you, she's got a thrill-seeking spirit. Constantly having to see if shes thought enough is enough and yeat herself out of the living room window as she loves the window leadge. My boys, well, they're overly cautious. They won't even jump off a playground slide without a full risk assessment.

So, in conclusion, being a parent to a house rabbit like Mandy is harder than parenting my own boys. She's a fluffy, p**p-dropping, disobedient, non-affectionate, wire-chewing daredevil. But you know what? Despite all the chaos, I wouldn't trade her for the world. Plus, I never have to worry about her borrowing my car keys!

Why parenting a house rabbit is harder than parenting your own kids! 🐇

Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you about our little house rabbit, Mandy. Now, I love my boys, don't get me wrong, but parenting Mandy? It's Chaos!!

First of all, Mandy is a lady, and my boys are boys. Let me tell you, dealing with a teenage rabbit with attitude is like dealing with a whole army of teenage boys. She's got sass for days, and she couldn't care less about what I say.

And the fluff! Oh, the fluff! It's like a constant blizzard in my house. I've had to hire a professional vacuum cleaner operator just to keep up with Mandy's shedding. My boys shed too, but at least I can give them haircuts!

But it doesn't stop there, folks. Mandy's got a habit of leaving little "gifts" all over the floor. Every day, I play a game of "Avoid the Bunny Bombs" in my own home. I mean, my boys have had their moments, but at least they understand the concept of a toilet.

Now, let's talk about affection. My boys are the cuddliest kids you'll ever meet. They shower me with hugs and kisses. Mandy? Well, she gives me the cold shoulder. I guess I'm just not as appealing as a chewed-up power cable.

Speaking of which, Mandy has a knack for destruction. She's got a taste for wires, folks. She's chewed through more cables than a starving piranha. My boys, on the other hand, they take care of their belongings. They treat their toys like they're made of gold.

And here's the kicker, folks. Mandy has these suicidal tendencies. I'm telling you, she's got a thrill-seeking spirit. Constantly having to see if shes thought enough is enough and yeat herself out of the living room window as she loves the window leadge. My boys, well, they're overly cautious. They won't even jump off a playground slide without a full risk assessment.

So, in conclusion, being a parent to a house rabbit like Mandy is harder than parenting my own boys. She's a fluffy, p**p-dropping, disobedient, non-affectionate, wire-chewing daredevil. But you know what? Despite all the chaos, I wouldn't trade her for the world. Plus, I never have to worry about her borrowing my car keys!

"So, I'm a single dad from the UK, and every other weekend, I get to hang out with my two boys, Lennie and Stanley. Let me tell you, it's quite the adventure!

So there we were, me and my two boys, Lennie who's 8 and Stanley 5, cruising towards the golden arches of McDonald's. Now, Stanley, the little rascal, falls asleep faster than a narcoleptic sloth in a car. I swear, if they made a car bed, that kid would be their spokesperson.

Anyway, Stanley's out like a light, and Lennie's doing what Lennie does best – talking. This kid's got more questions than a Mastermind contestant on steroids. He's like a walking Wikipedia, but without the "Do you want to donate to keep this site free?" pop-up.

We roll up to the drive-through, and I place our order, ready for some fast food goodness. Now, here's where things get interesting. The person at the window, let's just say they were bending the traditional gender norms. And hey, it's 2023, we're all about acceptance and equality, right? But Lennie, oh sweet Lennie, he's not one to let a puzzling sight slip by unnoticed.

"Daddy, why does that man look like a woman?" Lennie shouts at the top of his lungs, without a care in the world. I'm caught off guard, frozen like a deer in headlights. I didn't sign up for this impromptu TED Talk on gender identity, especially not in the McDonald's drive-through line.

But Lennie, bless his heart, he's persistent. He repeats the question, even louder this time, like he's auditioning for a shouting contest. The server's face was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and probably a touch of regret for taking the job that day. I just wanted my Big Mac and McFlurry, dammit!

So what do I do? I shush him. Yeah, I know, stellar parenting move right there. But hey, in the heat of the moment, it was the only escape hatch I could find. I scooped up our food and hustled out of there faster than Usain Bolt with a case of Red Bull.

On the way home, I had the talk with Lennie. No, not that talk, the one about how some people express themselves differently, and we should respect that. It was a real "Welcome to the real world" conversation, squeezed in between bites of fries and nuggets.

And then we've got Stanley, my little ginger tornado. This kid is a master at getting his own way. You think you're in charge, but oh no, Stanley's got other plans. He's like a mini negotiator. I once tried to convince him it was bedtime, and he hit me with, 'But Dad, I have an extra life on Xbox, and I can't just leave it hanging!' Sneaky little genius, I tell you.

But the real kicker is the wake-up call. Every morning, without fail, Stanley will wake up at the crack of dawn, and I mean inches away from my face. It's like my own personal alarm clock invasion. Forget snooze buttons; Stanley believes in a full-frontal assault. I've woken up to his freckled little face more times than I can count, and let me tell you, it's a sight that can both terrify and make you question your life choices.

Life as a single dad, folks. Every day is a new adventure, a new learning experience.

Small Town Mentally!

"So, growing up as a young boy in a small town in the UK in the '90s was like being trapped in a time warp. It was like Jurassic Park, except instead of dinosaurs, we had chavs roaming the streets. These kids were the apex predators of the council estate.

We didn't have cool video games or smartphones to keep us occupied back then. Nah, man, our entertainment was watching the local drunk stumble out of the pub and trying to guess if he'd make it to the bus stop or faceplant into a puddle. It was like a real-life version of 'Dude, Where's My Car?' every damn weekend.

And you know what? The British weather was just as unpredictable as my chances of getting laid in school. You try being a fat kid in a secondary school in the middle of nowhere in the UK; that s**t wasn't easy!

Small towns hardly were the most entertaining places to live either. A large group of young teenage boys all from single-parent households aimlessly walking from bench to bench around the town, causing havoc with literally nothing to do. I'm not surprised eventually all we did was get high. I remember the first few times.

You and the crew of misfits would head out into the wilderness, searching for the perfect spot to spark up. Finally, you find this secluded area behind some bushes. You're like, "Perfect! No one's gonna catch us here."

You take out your little stash of g***a and clumsily roll up a joint, using those ultra-thin rolling papers that are impossible to handle properly. But hey, it's your first time, so it's forgivable.

Now, you're all ready to light it up and embrace the legendary powers of Mary Jane. You light that joint, take a puff, and start passing it around your group. Everyone's coughing and laughing like a bunch of deranged hyenas. Then that one guy would start freaking out after three puffs of a joint, thinking he can see a leprechaun chasing after him!

But the worst thing about this small town is everybody knew everybody. It was like living in an episode of 'Game of Thrones' with less in**st... well, maybe. It was all about reputation, and if your family had a bad name, it was like being branded with a scarlet letter, except the letter was probably a 'C' for 'chav.' The local gossip was like the Dark Web, man. You'd tell one person a secret, and the next thing you know, everyone in town knows your dirty laundry. It was like school, but with adult-sized bullies and alcoholics.

Looking back, it was a messed-up time, man. But you know what? It toughened us up. It made us appreciate the little things in life, like escaping a Friday night knife fight or finding a pound coin on the ground. We survived the '90s in a small UK town, and now, we can handle anything. Because let's face it, if you can survive growing up in that place, you can survive anything. Cheers to that, my twisted friends!"

So..... 😅 I wrote a joke about one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, criticism welcome 🤣🤣
Some of you may of heard this story before!!!

So, a few years back, I got this gig as an outdoor activity instructor, right? They assigned me to this site in West Runton in Norfolk. Now, picture this: me and a bunch of folks are traveling all the way from Kent to Norfolk, and we stop at a welcome break service station. Now, being the fat guy that I am, I naturally order a KFC bargain bucket. I mean, come on, you can't resist that crispy chicken goodness!

So, there I am, chowing down on this bucket of chicken, right? Eating my way through it like it's my last meal. And after devouring six pieces of chicken, I suddenly notice something off about the one I'm holding in my hand. It's black! I mean, not "extra crispy" black, but more like "charcoal briquette" black. So, naturally, I toss it away like a hot potato, but do I stop there? Nope! I still polish off the rest of the chicken like it's a race against time. Priorities, people!

Fast forward to when we finally reach the site. The other staff members are all like, "Hey, let's go out for a drink!" So, we head to the local watering hole, and I down a couple of pints of beer. Now, here's where things take a turn for the worse. Those two innocent pints start wreaking havoc on my stomach, and I suddenly feel like I've swallowed a tornado. It's not a good feeling, my friends.

I rush back to the site, determined to reach the bathroom in time. But, oh boy, my body had other plans. As I shoot up from my bed, my sphincter decides to give up the fight and just let it all loose. Diarrhea, my friends. It's leaking out of me like a malfunctioning garden hose.

So, there I am, in the middle of the night, butt-naked and covered in my own personal brand of "liquid gold." Panicking, I make a mad dash upstairs towards the bathroom, leaving a lovely trail of p**p behind me. It's like a disgusting rendition of "Hansel and Gretel."

Finally, I make it to the bathroom, but instead of sitting on the toilet like a normal person, my brain goes, "Nah, let's take a shower instead!" So, I turn on the water, thinking that will somehow solve all my problems. Spoiler alert: it doesn't.

Next thing I know, I'm waking up to the sound of sirens and the sight of two paramedics standing over me. And guess what? I'm butt naked in the shower, covered in my own p**p. Yep, I've officially hit rock bottom, my friends. Rock bottom looks a lot like a naked man in a p**p-covered shower.

Apparently, the guy in the top bunk, Luke Anzelmo, woke up from the smell and followed the trail of doom up the stairs. Can you imagine his horror when he found me, like a naked yet smelly fountain, and thought, "You know what this situation needs? Paramedics!"

And that, my friends, was my very first day on the job. It's safe to say it was the most embarrassing moment of my entire existence. I mean, not only did I traumatize myself, but I also left a lingering stench that haunted the house for the rest of my time there. The poor cleaners who had to deal with that mess... they hated me with a passion. Can't really blame them, though. I'd hate me too.

Welcome to "Me, Myself, and I," the blog where I share the laughter, tears, and everything in between as I navigate life as a 30-something overweight single dad in the charming UK. Join me on this roller coaster ride as I embrace the ups and downs, embracing the hilarity that unfolds along the way.

Who am I? Well, my name is Andy, and I'm just an ordinary guy trying to make the most of this crazy journey we call life. With a wry sense of humor and a healthy dose of self-deprecation, I'm here to share my funny life experiences and shine a light on the everyday adventures that come with being a single dad, a little on the heavier side.

As a father, my children are the center of my universe. From navigating the challenges of parenting to finding joy in the simplest moments, I strive to give them the best life possible. Whether it's tackling the art of bedtime stories or attempting to cook a meal that won't cause a kitchen catastrophe, my stories will highlight the humorous side of being a dad.

Life as an overweight individual comes with its own set of quirks and challenges. From hilarious encounters with exercise routines that make me question my life choices to navigating the world of fashion when your body shape doesn't conform to society's expectations, I'll share my experiences with candor and humor.

But this blog is not just about me; it's about creating a community of like-minded individuals who can relate to the highs and lows of life. Together, we'll find solace in shared experiences, celebrate the triumphs, and laugh at the mishaps that come our way.

So, whether you're a fellow single parent, an overweight individual, or simply someone who enjoys a good chuckle, "Me, Myself, and I" is the place for you. Get ready for tales of messy adventures, comical mishaps, and heartwarming moments as we embark on this journey together.

Remember, life may throw curveballs, but with laughter as our ally, we can face them head-on and create a life worth living. Stick around, join the conversation, and let's find the joy in every twist and turn that comes our way.

Stay tuned for regular updates, hilarious anecdotes, and an honest exploration of what it means to survive and thrive as a single dad in the UK. Together, we'll discover that life's funny moments are often the ones that shape us the most.

Let's buckle up, embrace the laughter, and make this journey one heck of a hilarious ride!

Cheers,