Going Dutch

People often say that we Brits have quite a lot in common with the Dutch. We’re both big footballing nations, both with a background of problems with violent and nationalistic football supporters. We both have a history of embarrassing colonialism, we both still have royal families, although they’re pointless (at least ours draws the tourists, though), and we’re both inherently conservative politically. The mistake is often made of viewing the Dutch as liberal hippies because they have a policy of tolerance to soft drugs and prostitution in Amsterdam, but actually that’s wrong.

The other thing we have in common with the Dutch is Center Parcs. You may not know it but Centre Parcs was actually invented in Holland, in the 1960s. It was a successful operation there for twenty years until it opened in Sherwood Forest in 1987. Today, according to the company literature, Center Parcs “has become synonymous with the provision of an exceptional short break experience in a forest location.” They’re nothing if not specific.

Anyway, let me tell you what I think Center Parcs is synonymous with, having now been there. Center Parcs is synonymous with one Barry Newsdesk getting BACK IN THE SADDLE. And I’m not talking about one of those cheap mountain bikes you see the smiley people riding in those adverts (the adverts lie about lots of stuff, by the way, readers), I’m talking about what my anagrammatic friend Mr Coleman might describe as “Hip enema? Ok. Ow!”

If you’re interested in the kind of leisure activities we got up to, then check out the center parcs website. It’s all on there. But if you’re interested in the kind of pleasure activities we got up to, well…

What can I tell you readers, after dinner on the final night me and Gill wondered back to our cabin. We’d got on really well during the meal, although she insisted on talking about what a great guy Roger is. But I was the bigger person and I didn’t let it bother me. Instead I did what you’re supposed to do when women are talking; I listened. I listened attentively and I asked pertinent questions at sympathetic intervals. These questions served two purposes. First, they allowed me to subtly prove that I was listening and second they enabled me to encourage her to further open up to me. In more ways than one.

It was brilliant. We shared a bottle of wine, and got them to give us another one to take back to the cabin. I didn’t try and hold hands with her on the way back to the cabin, but we were very close together. And the mood wasn’t spoiled by the big argument that was going on in the cabin opposite ours as we went in the door.

Back inside, I whipped out the new portable speakers that I’d bought for my iPod and enlisted the help of my trusty trio: Mr M. Gaye, and the brothers Ernest and Julio Gallo. Boy, do those three know how to get a girl in the mood!

At this point, readers, I will employ something that us writers like to call ‘Authorial Distance’. This is something that we use to pull back from a situation, as if a camera were panning away. It gives the subjects of the story their privacy, while leaving readers in no doubt as to what is happening. It was used by Jane Austen quite a lot, when she wasn’t wibbling on about men having “an fine countenance, some twenty thousand a year and an estate at Blitherington.” Amazing what you can remember when you’re in full romantic flight.

Anyway, this much I’ll tell you. When all was said and done (half way through What’s Goin’ On? But it’s been a while) and I politely enquired as to her enjoyment, she sighed and said “it was just like it always was.”

Check me out! I’ve still got the moves. I must have tired her out because she fell asleep straight away. So I put out the light. I even took her shoes off for her.

Gill was really quiet on the drive home, but I guess, like me, she had a lot of thinking to do. I’m sure I speak for us both when I say it kind of took us by surprise. Still, I feel really good, people.

Peace and love BN

Centre Parcs

You'll be lierally amazed when you read what I'm about to write.

This weeked I'm going to Centre Parcs!

I know what you're thinking, why is a cool, urbanite, influencer like Barry Newsdesk going to Centre Parcs.

Centre Parcs is basically Butlins for the middle class family man. Jeesh, I'm upper working class for starters and ain't in the family way yet! ;-) - well, not that I know about kk!

Thing is, Gill and I booked a trip to Centre Parcs just before Xmas. It was her idea to be honest, and in all fairness, she's paying for it. But the holiday is booked all the same, and it'd be a shame to waste it.

She said as much to me just last night. We went to the pub and had a very frank chat. We're definitely not 'dating', but well, I've not had much luck with the Internet dating schemes and I think we can safely say I'm totoally OVER Amber. It was infatuation, nothing more, there was no emotion. It was pure sex. Well, not actual sex, but certainly desire, or lust if you will.

Gill reckons we can go to Centre Parcs together, it's a twin room after all and there are plenty of activities for us to be getting on with, so we don't need to spend every waking moment together.

I tell you what though, it's been a while, if you know what I mean, and if we're louging by the pool and she's got that bikini on that goes see-thru when it gets wet, well, I'm only human aren't I?!

We'll have chicken & chips and a few glasses of chardonney, and those twin beds can soon be pushed together ;-)) nudge, nudge.

It doesn't mean we'll be back together, but maybe we can have an 'open' relationship? A lot of water has passed under the bridge when all's said and done.

I'm not telling Mum, she'll only get excited, and at her age she probably doesn't need her blood pressure rising. Besides, she's probably got something planned with Roger anyway. Smooth talking crook that he is will be swindling her out of my inheritance!

Anyway, gotta go and pack my snorkel - think I'll pack my lucky pants while I'm at it.

Who would have thought I'd be so excited about a trip to bloody Centre Parcs....next I'll be buying a Ford Mondeo.

Peace out, l8ers
x

Inspiration for da nation

I've just read an excellent blog post. It was written by none other than my favourite French follower Mess. On his new blog, Tangled Up. Mess is tangling with that age old dilemma, love. He's got a soft spot for Girls Aloud star Cheryl Cole.

To be honest though Mess, you shouldn't spend too much time waiting for the 'perfect' girl to turn up. I'm not sure that she'll be leaving Ashley any time soon and if she did, I dare say she'd probably be knocking on Christiano Ronaldo's door.

I've posted much about the subject of love. But, what can I say? If love wasn't so damn confusing, it wouldn't be so much fun! ;-)

Take me and Gill. Jeesh, first it's off then, well, I think it might on again readers. When I cast our relationship adrift, I thought Amber and I had a future. How wrong I was. OYG, how wrong I was. I should have seen the signs. Turns out she was dating Leigh all along and playing me for the fool.

She used me readers. I feel violated. I actually got Leigh sacked from Blockbusters, because I wanted to get sacked with Amber...jeesh, the irony. All along she was taking from the til and letting Leigh take the rap. Well, when I told Richard at Blockbusters that I thought it was Amber and not Leigh who was stealing, he told me shut and stop worrying about a few quid here and there - she's got him wrapped around her little finger, the weak willed cretin. There a word for girls like Amber.

Meanwhile, Gill's been up in Lincoln all this time looking after Mum. But Mum sent her home because Roger "can take care of things". ROGER!!! I saw Gill last night, she finally took me up on that Pizza Express offer. She told me about Dave, the roofer, it was a one-off she said. She started going on about how he made her feel "wanted". I felt a bit sick in the pit of my stomach. what a fool I've been.

Seeing Gill and just having a nice time made me think about my friend Steve's humdrum family life in Lincoln, maybe settling down isn't so bad after all.

I know, check me out, I'm having a life affirming moment.

I think I probably have this blog and trusty followers like Mess and Mr Coleman to thank for their support during the dark times.

I feel so proud that Mess suggests on his own blog that it was yours truly that inspired him to start blogging. Proud but at the same time I sense a tell-tale tingle of jealousy. I've got to admit, Mess's blog is excellent, a little too good! ;0)

It's a bit like the moment that a father realises his son can beat him in a fight. Maybe that's why Dad left us. Becasue he was jealous of me and Mum and scared that one day I'd be the one throwing my weight about.

Who's laughing now?

Newsdesk Out

Straight to bookshelf

Jobs are funny aren’t they? I mean we’ve all got to have one, but so many people don’t like theirs, it makes you wonder why they bother. I absolutely love my job at Blockbusters, but like it says in the song, love don’t pay the rent. I’m on the breadline and I really should start thinking a bit more about how I can bring in a few more spondulicks.

When I was a nipper up in Lincoln I used to dream of being a policeman, but back in those days you needed to be at least 5’11” in order to qualify. I looked long and hard at my Mum and Dad, 5’8” and 5’2” respectively and realised I’d be hard pushed to make the Force. My Mum being little didn’t matter so much, but it would be my Dad’s lack of stature that would let me down. It wouldn’t be the first time he let me down or the last either readers, but that’s a different story, for another time.

Pretty soon though I was glad that I wouldn’t be a copper. My friend Steve’s Dad was a copper and pretty much no one trusted him. Steve got pretty badly bullied for a while, then it stopped abruptly when the Dad of one of the bullies was pulled over for speeding and some cannabis was ‘discovered’ during a rectal investigation back at the local station.

No one bullied Steve anymore, but no one talked to him either. Apart from me, I wasn’t scared. Mind, I did suggest to Steve’s Dad more than once that I thought my Dad was a secret weed smoker and he was never pulled over, apart from the time he ran a red light, then the copper just let him off with a warning.

Pretty soon I decided that I wanted to be a footballer and play for Notts Forest. Although, to be honest, sports weren’t really my strong point, well, not until I took up judo, which I only took up when the bullies’ attention moved from Steve to me. I’m a black belt now readers, I’d love to run into those bastards again in a dark alley. Even though I’m a pacifist, I think I’d probably put my resolve to one side this time and give them a well-overdue pasting.

When I took up judo, the only professional judo exponent was Brian Jacks. Man, he really was the king of the dippers. Not surprisingly, I never really harboured ambitions to be a professional judo fighter.

Pretty soon I discovered girls and music. I bought a bass guitar and joined a band. Well, I formed one anyway, with Steve. We were called Cut ‘n’ Run, and played electro-funk goth fusion. We did a gig at the church hall, it went down well, but in all honesty, it was highly unlikely that I’d carve myself a career in the business. When I saw that character in the League of Gentlemen, the bassist in Crème Brulee, it reminded me a lot of Cut ‘n’ Run! You’ve got to laugh sometimes haven’t you? If you didn’t you’d cry. :-(

Anyway, I don’t want to go into too much detail about my search for a job from childhood to adulthood. Suffice to say I went to college and got a Desmond (as in Desmond Tu-Tu) in Mineral Processing and Material Reclamation. I qualified just in time for the UK mining industry to collapse. NICE ONE MAGGIE!!!

I ended up in media sales, more by accident than design, and that’s where I stayed for the next 15 years until I was made redundant and started out on my quest to become a Citizen Journalist – that was under five months and over 70 posts ago, and here we are. I’ve had over 1100 hits and 11 great followers (welcome aboard Jimmy!! - you can read my latest follower Jim's blog at this link here. It's well worth a trip.)

I have to admit, I’ve not really seen much financial reward in journalism. Not a single one of my submissions to The Metro has resulted in payment and my freesheet adult entertainment magazine, The Oyster, has proven the old adage that ‘sex sells’ to be inaccurate. All this recent talk of sponsorship opportunities looked promising, but amounted to nothing.

I was starting to think that maybe writing is not that great a career after all. There aren’t that many superstar journalists are there? Apart from Paxman, natch.

Then I thought, ‘but journalists are writers Barry, there are loads of famous writers and quite a few rich ones too’. Look at JK Rowling. I LOVE Harry Potter. They’re great, they’re so addictive, they’re meant for kids I know, but I’ve got the ones with the ‘adult’ sleeves (they’re not covered in pictures of boobs ;-) they’re just plain and serious, so when you’re reading them in public, it looks like you’re reading a proper grown-up’s book).

Writing books is not as hard as you’d imagine readers, the trick is coming up with something no one else has ever thought of that taps into a market hungry for something they didn’t realise they were hungry for. I mean to say, who would ever had thought a book series about a wizard would have been successful?! And Rowling’s books have all been turned into films, so now she’s a multi-millionnairess ten times over. Thanks books. She had a secret up her sleeve all right, or should that be wizard’s sleeve??! lol ;-))

I started thinking about what I could write about that no one has realised they want yet. I went into the local library to do some research. I basically took a pad and pen and then wrote down all the types of books they stock. It took flippin ages!!! I thought I’d write down everything and then whatever was left would be a market as yet untapped.

I stumbled across a whole section full of books that are based on films. But not the actual films, different stories featuring the same characters as in the films like Star Wars and Star Trek. There are loads of famous films that were actually books first. Most people reckon the books are better than the films, but obviously they take a lot more time to consume so people opt for the film version.

Anyway, I thought to myself ‘rather than write a book that I hope gets turned into a film, like JK Rowling, and rather than writing a new story with the same characters that were in successful films. I would write a book version of a successful film’. The beauty of this is all I have to do is sit and watch a film and write down exactly what I see.

It’s targeted at people who think that books are better than films, but they’ve read all the books that have been turned into films and they don’t want to waste their time reading books that feature the same characters that are in films, but doing different stuff.

I just need to find a popular film that hasn’t been turned into a book! It’s harder than you’d think readers. Any ideas?

What a Mess!

I've only gone and lost two more followers....that's three in as many days. WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID??

I know you all know how painful I find losing followers, but I'm not going to dwell on the negatives today (besides one of the followers I lost was The Finisher, and he was a bit of cock - so it's not all bad). So I thought I'd focus on the good that blogging can do. I thought I'd dedicate today's blog post to my good friend and excellent follower Mess.

A while back I was contacted by WuTravel.com and asked you guys in readerland whether I should take up their kind offer of sponsorship. Mr Coleman advised against it in a comment post which was very helpful and sound advice (as always), but Mess went one step further sending me a very useful email note on Facebook.

It's so useful, and I don't want anyone else falling into the WuClan's Plan that I thought I'd post it here.

Hiya Barry !

I just didn't want to post my thoughts on your page coz I maybe wrong!

I didn't know what to think about the mail you received, the fact that 'Alyssa' or whatever she is didn't sign made me think that it was a pre-made mail which is sent to everyone who's writing back to the offer.

Especially this part:"Please reply me If you are willing to accept our offer, then I will open an affiliate account for you right now, after you put on our banner on your site, I will deposit the money for you.:)"

They seem really in a rush, and one little detail bothered me, where did this smiley came from ?

It makes me think of all the junk mail I receive saying I won some stuff. And based on what you said, which is absolutely true, about the fact that ppl are asking for it and are motivated by greed, I found this kinda suspicious:

"If you can redirect more visitors to our site, you can calculate how much $$$ you will earn!!!!!" too much $ sign and exclamation points to me!

I did some research on Google. A guy or girl, whatever, on April 16 2009 posted on a forum that a girl name Alexis, working for WuTravel, offered this blogger to have ban ads on the blog.

He was asking something like 'Can I trust them' ? no answer was sent.

The research continues and then, on Yahoo! Q&A, the same person posted the same message. And another person replied that she had the same mail, not long after opening the blog.

This last link I wanna share with you I found particularly interesting: http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20090415192126AA7QLjQ

The girl is posting the mail she received, and surprise, someone told her 'You have one good site, but your site traffic is really low'. When you read the message, it is EXACTLY the same one you received!

I don't think this company isn't legit but I would consider this as spam. You earn circa 10-20 visitors a day and for a blogger it's kinda great!

I had circa 80 visitors after opening on March 28. And I just completely agree with that: "Something makes me think that this might be one of those Internet scams that you sometimes read about in The Metro. You read about old ladies sending all their savings to Nigerian Princes under the false promise of a share in their fortunes or people being sent an email from their bank asking for all their sign-on information, only to find out a couple of days later that someone has emptied their bank accounts."

I wouldn't do it, at least not with them, I'm sure there are another ways to let ppl know how brill your page is!Have a nice evening my friend !Mess
I received an email from WuTravel.com, and they interested to place their ads on my blog site.? - Ya
Source: answers.yahoo.com

So, once again, thanks to the Mess Man. Excellent research and excellent feedback. I only hope someone else out there find it as helpful as I did.

Much love.

ND.

x

Swings and roundabouts

Hey guyz. Bit of a funny one today, some mixed emotions defo going. I'm back down to 12 followers. My excellent half Polish/half Irish follower Mereck has done the off and removed his colours from the Newsdesk mast.

It's always bad when I lose a follower, but I'm particualrly distraught about losing him (no offence to the rest of you) becasue he is a proper journalist and so his follower status gave me real kudos.

Lots of people think that blogging is just vanity publishing for writers who are simply not good enough to get paid for their copy. Mind you, most of the people who say that, are journalists running scared that the mystique of journalism is being removed, the barriers to entry lowered and the new paradigm of news will do them out of a job.

When Mereck joined the ND gang, heloped me stick it to the big commercial publishing houses. Here I was forging out a lone trail. Now he's gone, it's almost as though he's aggreeing. That bloggers are just a bunch of lonely diarists spouting ill-informed, half-baked views into the ether.

As regular readers know, I never get angry when people leave me. Just disappointed.

And, besides, Mereck and all the other doubters out there can suck it and see, because I just received this email:

Hi, Barry Newsdesk

We are contacting you because we have seen references about your work online.

We would like to include you in our directory of interviews with professionals in the field of communication.

We invite you to take part in this interview. It is free.You will also be able to include any web links to samples of your work on the internet.

To start the interview just go to this web address and start responding to questions:http://www.whohub.net/interview/JOURNALISM

You can also respond to questions in any another category that seems appropriate for you. Here, you can find some examples from other professionals:http://www.whohub.net/en/authors.php

Best

Elsa Wide

Whohub is a directory of interviews with professionals in the fields of communication, arts, technology, and marketing.

Amazing eh!?

I went along to the website and completed the online interview. I really do think it's only a matter of time before I get spotted and presented with the wider credit that my Citizen Journalism deserves.

You can find my answers to WhoHub's questions here.

Mixed messages

Hello readers. I’ll cut to the chase straight away, I’m not feeling very happy today.

Lots of things seem to have come together at the same time to make this the case. Mum’s got her voice back, which is great, but the first thing she used it for was to tell me about what a lovely time she’d had with Gill while she was up there.

Mum and Gill always got along really well but now I feel like it’s them against me. I mean, I know Gill’s mum’s dead, and that’s part of the reason why her and my Mum get along so well, but she is my Mum and I need her more than Gill does, really.

Don’t get me wrong, I feel bad for Gill about her mum. But jeez, readers, accidents happen, right? And everyone knows that, statistically speaking, hang gliding is one of the most dangerous pastimes there is. And if you’re going to go hang gliding – and I’ve never been – but if you’re going to go, you want to avoid pylons, right? It’s not bloody rocket science.

But Mum said they went out for a night together and they ended up in bloody nightclub. My Mum, in a nightclub! She’s my Mum, she’s not some pikey old granny, the kind that Wayne Rooney has a thing for. Is it just me, or does anyone one else think that Wayne Rooney has the look of a simpleton about him? Like he’s always got his tongue out and he looks like he dribbles a lot. Next door to my gran there was a couple who had a simpleton boy and he lived with them until he was into his fifties. He loved listening to music on his headphones, and he loved the snooker.

Anyway, Mum told me that all the blokes in the club were trying it on with Gill and that they both had a really good time. Also, my Mum met a ‘gentleman’ earlier in the evening, while they were having dinner, called Roger, who offered to drive her out into the country for lunch one day next week. And she’s going to go!!!

Now I love my Mum, but if there’s one thing that worries me about her it’s that she’s a bit of an easy touch. It’s like people take advantage of her and I just can’t abide that. I’m sure ‘Roger’ came across nice as pie, I can well imagine it. But I bet he’s just after the money; shit I hope she didn’t tell him how much she’s got. She mustn’t tell people that. And the thing about Mum is that when she’s had a couple of sherries, well, she gets a bit suggestible.

That’s all. So I think I’m going to have to go up there and meet Roger for myself, because I don’t think he can be trusted. And then I was feeling funny about Gill getting all the attention that Mum was talking about. I have to say, she is looking great at the moment, the last time I saw her I did feel a few of the old stirrings that I used to get. She’s obviously been out and got a load of new clothese and stuff. Because when I saw her, she said: “Jesus, Barry, you’re not still wearing that bloody Ned’s Atomic Dustbin T-shirt are you?”

Also, I went on a date, you know I’m doing that online dating thing, right? Well I went on a date and, not to put too fine a point on it, it was an absolute bloody disaster. I had a bit of stubble on the go, because I think the ladies like that, and I did some press ups before I went out, although not many. And I put my black trousers on, although I think they’ve shrunk a bit in the wash.

Anyway we arranged to meet at a pub I know in town, which is great and it’s a Sam Smiths pub, which means you can get a pint for not much more than two quid. Gill and I used to meet there. So when this girl – Susie – turned up I thought, “easy Bazza old son, she’s a bit of a cracker”. But she didn’t like the pub. Wtf? She wanted to go for cocktails, so we went to this place and the doorman looked me up and down and glared at me but chatted to Susie. Apparently she’d been here before. She told me what she wanted and it was TEN QUID! For ONE DRINK!

I only had £40 with me, figuring that we probably wouldn’t have more than ten drinks each in the pub on a first date but now a quarter of it was done for. So I had a water. Then she spent 15 minutes chatting to the doorman, while I sat at the bar with my water. She came back and asked for another drink, which I got, and then she said she didn’t think we had much in common, so let’s just chalk it up to experience. So I asked her for the money to cover the drinks and she just laughed at me. So I asked her again, and then the doorman came over and grabbed me and threw me out. And everyone in there was laughing.

It was an awful place, the kind of place that Gill and I would never go into when we were together, because we thought it was up its own arse. Which it was. I thought I’d call Gill for old times sake, but when she answered it sounded like she was at a party and she said she couldn’t talk. So I went back to the pub and got a drink, and, well, that’s about all I remember. Woke up at home with all my clothes on.

Checked my phone and I had a text message from Amber. It said: “Please stop texting me.”

So I looked at my sent messages and I’d sent her seven texts saying about how I thought we’d be great together, and I really like her and she’s hot and all this nonsense.

I’d also sent Gill 15 text messages, all saying the same thing: “Baby, what went wrong. Still think about you all the time.”

She hadn’t replied at all.

Shit, things are a bit messed up.