Nancoo Profile

David
Join Date:
2011-10-23
Blogs Owned
1. Journeys Into The Night
Random musings about life and all its wonderful and mundane, painful, joyful and funny intricacies.
Tags: life, sex & relationships, humour, poetry, love
2. Musings...
Musings about experiences in life with all their wonderful and mundane, painful, joyful and funny intricacies. My own journey of self-discovery, perhaps?
Tags: Life, Sex and Relationships, Humour, Random
Latest Blog Posts
- The post-match reportSome friends of mine and I have a game we play any time we all go to a party together. We don’t really have a name for it – it definitely needs one – but we pattern it after the television coverage of a major sporting event. A big football matc...
- TransitionTomorrow I turn 40. There… I’ve said it! For months, it’s been there, creeping up on me, peeking out from behind the corners of my consciousness, shimmering silver from beneath the receding black, etching a bit deeper into the smile lines. On t...
- The eternity of Joe AlvarezWhen I played football as a child, there was this guy on the team named Joe Alvarez. You could go to every practice, read all the names on the team-sheet and play countless matches together, and of all the kids there, Joe was the one you’d notice t...
- Battle of the sexeson Nov 18, 2012 in Friends Life London Sex & Relationships battle of the sexes Mad Men men Meryl Streep relationships sex sexism womenI’m on the job hunt these days, and a friend of mine just quit the one she’s had for two years. This piqued my interest because hers was the sort of role that I always found interesting and even coveted. But she insists that I’d be a fool to go...
- Remembranceon Nov 11, 2012 in Life Poetry armistice november 11 poppies poppy Remembrance Day World War I World War IIIf I die Do not cry Remember me as I am Remember me as a friend Remember me without tears Remember this one thing: That I haven’t really gone away My mind always ran free It’s just time for my feet To catch up with me! ...
- The StreetsIt was a beautiful day in London on Tuesday, one of those days that reminds you why you’re here, one of those days when you feel like you’re a part of something bigger, something important. Apart from New York, no other city can make me f...
- Walking contradictionI shoved a guy the other day. It wasn’t a push. It was a good, old-fashioned, solid shove, a violent explosion, inner rage pouring out that I didn’t even know was there. It was like putting an empty coffee mug in a microwave and watching in shock...
- How To WriteRecently, I’ve been asked by a few people what advice I would give someone who wants to be a writer. They assume because I have a blog and once, as a full-time journalist, I wrote for a living, that I ought to be able to tell others how to do it. I...
- Higher, faster, stronger…London made me proud last weekend. The Opening Ceremony of the XXX Olympiad was a brilliant celebration of British history, culture and diversity. The passing of the torch and design of the flame were inspired moments. For me, there is always somethi...
- Wankers!I was thinking of masturbation earlier today. Not in the sense of putting it on the day’s “to do” list (although — what the hell — maybe I was, you don’t need to know every damn thing!), but in a more general, historic con...
- The first kisson Jul 12, 2012 in Friends Life Sex & Relationships Back To The Future childhood cinema dating kissing love sex sports illustrated swimsuitLike any red-blooded boy of the age of 13, when I was growing up, I imagined nothing the Almighty had created could compare with kissing a girl. I did the whole deal: making out with pillows, feeling up two slightly deflated footballs… When I s...
- The one I loveI’ve been chatting online with a friend of mine who’s been quite distraught at the prospect of her cat being put down. Listening to my friend mourn her pet brought memories flooding back of my own experience a few decades ago and inspired this pi...
- The Death of A BugSadly, over the last few weeks, all my writing has been of the business type, with reports, proposals and budgets stealing away my precious creative writing time, even on weekends. I’ll be back soon, but just for you, my readers, here is one of...
- All that remains…I found out a little over a year ago that my late grandfather liked to write. It is a failing of myself that I had never thought to ask. It came up in casual conversation with my great-aunt, whom I’d dropped by to visit over a busy Christmas schedu...
- Disconnected…I usually write this blog at home, sitting in the living room in front of the telly. This one is being written over several days in various outdoor places. As I write now, my internet connection has been down for 10 days, two hours and 17 minutes. (T...
- Headbangers ballI can hit my head against solid surfaces and objects really, really hard. That might be perceived as a flippant statement, maybe a little in-joke you don’t get, or a philosophical metaphor for the struggle of the human brain to fathom the weight of...
- In an age of 24-hour news, how do we know what’s right?on May 3, 2012 in Random Writing ethics journalism media news press freedom trust truth World Press Freedom DayIn recognition of World Press Freedom Day 2012 How good is the media? Which branches of it can I trust? Where will I find balance and substance instead of trash and sensationalism? How believable are the anonymous sources on the Internet? How can we...
- Rum diaryIt occurs to me, suddenly, in the middle of Month Four of 2012, that I might drink too much. I don’t mean that I’m in that Leaving Las Vegas, pints-of-rum-with-my-cereal league, not yet anyway; most of the veins in my face are still, as of now, n...
- Pants on fire!I lied to a journalist last week. It was not a sneaky misdirection, not a subtle not-quite-the-whole story, wink, wink. I flat-out, bald-faced (where did the expression “bald-faced” come from, anyway? As a 30-something-year-old who looks a lot yo...
- The garden cycleLast weekend, with the trees not quite fully leafed out, the sun’s unabashed rays filled my back garden with Spring’s bright light. The place glowed with a certain timbre, like the soft glare off old early risers, the little plants that w...