The Wow Factor

A jaw dropper, someone that makes you have to catch your breath. In the movies, the romantic ones, this is supposed to be an everyday occurrence. Both girl and boy next door are drop dead gorgeous even though they are supposed to be your average Joe and Jane. In real life though, how many of you non single folks went “wow” upon catching a glance at your partner. Not many I would hazard a guess. Of course there will be some physical attraction but this grows usually over time, but “wow” is different, “wow” is almost primal. For women it’s “Please make my babies. Right here, right now” For men, well me at least, it’s staring dumbfounded, slack jawed with drool down my face.

Most of all the wow is fun, for everyone. The married, the gay, the straight, the single, the priest and the rabbi all can appreciate a good “Wow, oh my God” (that one true god obviously) It raises the heart rate, dilates the pupils and if it’s really “Wow” make you walk funny for a few minutes trying to think of Kathy Bates in About Schmitt. The sermon in church was really awkward that weekend.

Now of course you, want to take this amazing guy or girl (or both) and do unspeakable things to them (Even in church). Like I said it’s almost primal, but you don’t, not always. You could be married to someone else, or your “wow” person could live far away from you, or it could just be a fleeting glance. However it happens it brightens your day and if you ever get to talk to the person you are going fruit loops over, done right it can brighten their day too.

Regular readers to this blog.. do I have regular readers? Thank you! May have noticed I’ve been a little more US centric than when I first set out. I wrote a piece about Baseball for christs sake. Well because I like a challenge, the US is where my wow factor resides. She makes me feel like I am in a Warner Bros cartoon, heart beating out of my chest, whacking myself on the head with a big mallet. So my wow factor has been my muse for several pieces here this one included (well duh)

I am aware I’m not the first guy to be motivated by my drooling libido, and I sure as hell won’t be the last. It’s pushed the boundaries of art and creativity more than anything else. Hendrix didn’t learn to play guitar with his teeth to impress “the guys” you know.

In closing, it’s great to look for deep meaningful stuff, common ground, soulmate things. But we all need a bit of a “Wow, oh my” every now and again, to make us feel alive. If you have both they are in the same time zone as you. Cherish every single second.

Embed from Getty Images

A doe eyed individual.. geddit

“You do have knees, right?”

“It’s hard to have a relationship in this business…it’s gonna take a very special woman…or a bunch of average ones.”

~Bill Hicks

Wow a surprise me starting a piece with a Bill Hicks quote. This is very true when disability is involved too. So to paraphrase.

“It’s hard to have a relationship if you have a disability…it’s gonna take a very special woman…or a bunch of average ones.”

Now in my experience the bunch of average ones don’t wanna know, or mores the point I don’t wanna know them. I know it’s never going to end well and I have never been one for the one night knee trembler, I’d fall down.

So that leaves it to the “very special woman” Now very special women are hard to find, I have had a few in my life and screwed things up with them royally. I am proof that disabled men are still men and as much as Channel 4 still try to paint us as Superhuman, we are prone to the same mistakes as the more able. We can be bastards at times.

One day however fuck ups aside, that special woman may come along. You know the one with low standards and no sense of smell. Hopefully you all live happily ever after in a castle with a access ramp. But in any relationship there are things that are negatives, things that you know make you less than her idea of perfection. Now in a “non disabled” relationship these issues can stay hidden for years, or at least swept under the carpet, suppressed and turned into a aneurysm.

The crutches or the wheelchair or the twitch or however a disability rears it’s head makes sure that for the disabled person these issues are in the forefront and must be discussed slap bang in the middle of the “look at me aren’t I great, I’m trying to impress you” phase. The last thing you want to do.

Two choices of course.
Lie: “I was in a accident/plane crash/Black Friday PS4 scrap”
This is good and if you do it well enough it could ensure that Mr Happy gets to play. Bad side of this is that if she is that special lady, what are you gonna do when your accident injuries don’t get better.

Truth: This could result in lots of talking, some stupid questions “You do have knees right?” it could also result in ridicule, turning your special woman into a heartless harlot in a few seconds. But if this happens you know that she wasn’t the one for you in the first place.

I read somewhere that 75% of people would not consider sex with a disabled person. I would count myself in that bracket it’s difficult enough when one of you can’t balance to manage a 64 let alone a 69. But the odds are stacked against you, especially when you consider the normal criteria and preferences.

In short. Disability one of the best cockblocks known to man
If you find anyone willing to jump that and then jump you cherish them, because they are a very special person indeed.


Some of the average ones

World View, to Dream a Dream.

Different folks have different ways of looking at things. Obvious statement of the year, well probably but I haven’t done anything on this blog for a while and I thought it best to tackle something obvious!

Some folks live a day at a time, others plan everything to the finest degree. Whilst I am certainly towards the planning end, i have no real master plan. No five year goal, no yearning for yachts by the time I’m 35. Bit of luck really as thats only two years away and I currently would be very surprised if I had more than £2.50 in my bank account. Toy yacht maybe!

“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.” Sang Mr Lennon. How true, there are lots of people who dare to dream. Often from a young age, people wanna win Wimbledon (yeah like thats gonna happen to anyone British.. what? He didn’t..) or they might wanna marry a footballer or a supermodel or even less superficially find a cure for cancer. These dreamers, focus on that dream. Live it 24/7. Won’t let up until it rests in their metaphorical sweaty palm. Good for them.

But is this dream chasing, long term goal setting really such a good way to live? Focus is one thing, but by it’s very nature it leads us not to value where we are in life or value the things we have currently over the things we might gain in the future. I’m not just talking about possessions or opportunities here either. People too can be picked up or shunned to fit in with a persons master plan, friendships. partnerships, marriages. All changed to chase those stars.

So, because of the dream. Just the dream, no concrete facts. You’ve turned down that great offer of work in Dubai because that dream is to work in San Francisco. Or you divorced your wife because she won’t have that third child you dreamt of. Who is to say that opportunity in Dubai wouldn’t have made you happier than San Fran. Who’s to say the new girlfriend you find yourself with is going to be able to have kids.

Live life.
Dream, if you want. Make sure that dream doesn’t close you off from what you have. That dream may be nowhere near as good as you thought and it may lead to you missing out on something better than that dream could ever be.


As the weather has been somewhat depressing. In April (thanks world) I thought I’d write about something that cheers me up. Something that has been a bit of an obsession since my fascination started aged 7 with Cilla Black. From Cilla to Kirsty MacColl to Karen Gillan. The obsession. The Redhead.

This has been exasperated by the fiction of Ed McBain who featured pert breasted redheaded maidens in almost every novel. The Flintstones with Wilma, Family Guy with Lois, Daphne on Scooby Doo, hell even Princess Fiona in Shrek. Animators would appear to have a bigger obsession than me.

I don’t really know what it is, is sensitivity to UV a turn on. I hope not. Maybe I like the challenge, less than 2% of the worlds population is currently crimson topped. So I have the odds stacked against me if this was my only criteria for finding a mate. That and my good looks, general good health, wit and mastery of speeling and grammar”

Maybe I like the fact that the redhead stands out, without trying, in most cases. As do I. OK now I do due to my “Jesus/Hobo tribute combo” but before I was beardy I was a pretty un-remarkable looking guy. The sticks make you stand out. People stand back, the old ones I had made a clicking noise on the floor which made it impossible to stalk anyone (Redhead or otherwise) I am always even for only fleeting seconds, centre of attention.

I do also have a love of “different” redhead dye jobs are in fashion now. But as a child of 80’s I come from a time where being red was covered up. So it took a brave girl or boy to buck the trend and go au natural. A quality which I admire, a big middle finger up to convention, what is expected. I will do what I want. In the 80’s/90’s a natural redhead was (even if not by nature) feisty. I have always liked feisty.

There are a good few redheaded bloggers out there. A few which I have found and followed due to me searching “Redhead” in the wordpress reader, such is my obsession. Somebody help me….

Karen Gillan (7606547704)

(28DW) A Bit of Hows Your Father

You have to pity the guys and gals after a bit of extra marital sex this day and age. Back in the day it was simple, just meet someone who takes your fancy, remove the wedding ring. Few drinks later and you are booked into the nearest travel lodge under the name Mr & Mrs Smith making the beast with two backs.

By أشرف العناني [CC-BY-2.0 (], via Wikimedia Commons

A solid relationship.. solid.. it’s stone you see.. geddit..

All you gotta do is make sure you don’t bump into anyone who knows you or hubby / the missus. Yes morally wrong, but lets not get into that here. Most people eventually got caught, a receipt for a fancy meal left in a jacket pocket or the old lipstick on the collar. But that was when people got careless, a little bit of planning and both members of a marriage could happily screw whomever they wanted for years without the other person finding out. It worked very well for some.

Now on the other hand, with Facebook and Twitter everyone knows everything. How many Facebook statuses have been “At the movies..” House nice and empty to rob then. Or of course for your partner to get their lover round, but careful now those illicit “booty call” texts/BBM’s/iMessages can so easily go astray, sending details of your adventures in fishnets to the whole of your contact list. Better start thinking up “midnight fishing trip” stories for your boss and that investor in Singapore.

But at least you can turn off location services. No-one need know where you and your visiting Canadian concubine or Russian Rutbuddy are shacked up. Safe and warm in each others arms.

Step forward Google.

Yes everyone’s favourite, not at all evil, multi national tech giant has played a part in ending a cheats relationship with his fiancé. Yes the russian equivalent of Google Maps, Yandex, caught the unlucky chap in the arms of another woman, and now his betrothed has chosen to call the whole thing off.

Lucky escape some may say. But it does highlight a greater issue. Soon we will no longer be able to surprise anyone. In a good way. Buy that diamond ring for your girl or PS4 for your boy, they will have seen you on your personal surveillance tape. Yes we have ease of navigation and personal safety, but I tell you something Birthdays and Christmases are gonna suck.

Please check out the work of my 28DW friends at The Resident Weeble and A Piece of Pandemonium Neither of whom appear naked on Google Maps