A visit from St Nicholas

This poem truly is my favourite ever. I'm really not into poetry in the slightest, but live reading this to my children as they go to be on Christmas Eve.

If I should 't be reproducing this due to copywright, please let me know and I will remove it, however I thi k it should be there for all to see and its message spread across the world.
My favourite ever poem: 

A Visit from St. Nicholas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar plums danc'd in their heads,

And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap —

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,

Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below;

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name:

"Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer and Vixen,

"On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Donder and Blitzen;

"To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!

"Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys — and St. Nicholas too:

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound:

He was dress'd all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnish'd with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys was flung on his back,

And he look'd like a peddler just opening his pack:

His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples: how merry,

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face, and a little round belly

That shook when he laugh'd, like a bowl full of jelly:

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And fill'd all the stockings; then turn'd with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight —

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.'

Have a fantastic Christmas everybody xXx

Wake up and smell the coffee

So, it is long overdue that I write this. I have had people tell me how much they enjoy my blogs (however rare they are), and whilst I feel sorry for these poor unfortunate souls, I also feel an enormous sense of well-being hearing their feedback. Something happened this evening, and it made me realise just how bloody wonderful life is. To be fair, a few things have made me think that lately. Just crazy random things in the main, others are more life-changing.

On the 8th February, I posted a status on my facebook account, a bit of an outpouring of the heart really. I am not that kind of man to just gush stuff, but I did. I lay on the couch, with tears streaming down my face as I typed that the following day was the 30th anniversary of losing my Dad. It was also only a couple of weeks since the 5th anniversary of losing my Mum. I didn't do all that bollocky stuff about how much they are missed, I just truly typed something out in a minute or two about how lucky I am. It wasn't pre-meditated, it wasn't designed to garner a response, it was a bit of self-therapy (probably like this shit I'm writing now if I'm honest) - just a way of me letting myself know how I feel.
I was literally bowled over by the response I got. I do not like facebook, I do not like attention seekers (I am probably the world's worst), I use it to keep in contact with some old friends and family who I don't see often enough. However, within minutes, I was bombarded with notifications, people 'liking' my post, people commenting on it. I even got texts, emails and tweets about it. One particular message I got from someone who I have never met, but hope to soon. She simply said to me "your facebook status is beautiful". At this point, I was pretty much blubbing. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I wasn't upset about the sadness of the anniversaries, I certainly wasn't self-loving about the amount of reaction I got. What I was, was overwhelmed by how bloody nice people can be. I have tears on my cheeks typing this, what sort of nobhead am I ffs??

Since Christmas, life has been pretty much shit, nothing more, nothing less. My father in law, for whom I have grown to care for a lot over the last 15 years was diagnosed with Leukaemia. He is currently fighting it with the aid of chemo, and the love of his family. I'm not looking for sympathy for him, or his family here, many people across the world are also fighting similar battles, he/we are no different from them. The reason I'm mentioning it are the people who work in the hospital. Sure, I know it is their job and they are trained to be like they are. But these people are different. I don't know any of their names, I wouldn't recognise any one of them in the street (I am fucking loopy after all), but whenever I have been at the hospital, each and every one of them treats him like he is the only person in the world that matters, they are incredible. I have never seen any of them without a smile on their face, remarkable considering the amount of pain and suffering they deal with on a daily basis. They truly are angels.

My family: - I have said before, I am blessed with the most wonderful woman on the planet, and the fact she wants to be with me. I have four absolutely amazing kids. They light up my life at the mere thought of them.
My friends: - one of the closest people in my life I have known for 40 years, another for well over 30 years,  I'm 44 right now - that is the vast majority of my life. I have friends that I went to school with who I still hold as dear to my heart now as I did when we lived in each other's pockets growing up. I have friends who I haven't known for as long, but I am still close to, and know that they would be there for me at a moment's notice if needed, as I would be for them.

I now come on to what has inspired me to write tonight. My #tweetfam , and in particular, the #pompeyfamily. I know all clubs think they have the best fans. I know a hell of a lot of clubs have better numbers than we do. But trust me, I really don't give a shit who you support, we have THE best, there are no words to describe them. I tweeted tonight saying I would love to get down to Fratton Park tomorrow with my boy, but money is not as ready as it was a year or two ago, and was looking to car share with someone to keep the costs down. Seconds later, I got a 'DM', a direct message, not a public tweet, with someone offering to buy me a ticket. I declined this wonderful lady's offer for two reasons. Firstly, I don't like taking money off others, not because I am too proud, but because I don't know if they are offering because they are just a genuinely nice person. Secondly, I am mental, I know this, and I know I would lie awake worrying about if they had put themselves in debt for me, because they are nice. This particular person, from what I have worked out via twitter is quite wonderful. Life has not been kind, but this person has not been beaten by that, in fact, quite the opposite. Whatever cards she has been dealt, she always seems to be ok with them. She takes the bull by the horns and gets on with it.
It wasn't just this single act of generosity that has prompted this piece. It was the whole togetherness Pompey fans are showing. I have heard of people buying tickets and giving them to people who wouldn't normally go. Players are taking pay cuts, and deferred wages - and helping out in the ticket office! It is a shame that the club had to make people redundant, and my heart goes out to those people, along with my thanks for their work in trying to make my club a success. I may yet get to #packthepark tomorrow - I'm working on it! If I do, it is because someone has been amazing.

I haven't even read this horseshit back through yet, I'm just having a ramble. I am not going to either, I just want to publish this while I am in the mood. I don't care if nobody thinks its good. I do want people to read it, but if the quality ain't up to much, so be it. I have written this with one thing in mind...

Life around the world is shit right now. We have the goings on in Syria, in Afghanistan, in Rochdale FFS. We have a global depression. We have worldwide poverty and hunger. We have bullies, cheats, liars, thieves. But maybe, just maybe the world needs to take a step back from all the shit. Let us look at the good for once. The press, be it tv, radio, internet, papers, etc etc, only seem to want to report on the shit, doom and fucking gloom. The revel in it. The revel in making people's lives a misery. Just look at the Ryan Giggs fiasco for example - who on earth made his personal life that public that he should have to try and take out a super injunction (cunt of a phrase) to keep his life private. Sure, he should have kept his cock in his pants, we all know that, but it is of no business, but that of him and his family. Doom and fucking gloom - if he had scored the goal that took his country to the world cup against all odds, it would have been a quick headline, then onto the doom. Dereck Chisora and David Haye - they had a bit of a dust up, it probably helped to sell interest in the fight they are probably trying to organise. Chisora, for all his faults (I've tweeted enough about them), had just produced the fight of his life in gallantly losing in a world title fight. Yet all the press wanted to know about was him and Haye having a handbags job. Worse happens in every town and city every weekend, but because it was those two, it was police this, disgrace that. Bunch of arse if you ask me!

Isn't it about time that we focussed on the good things in life, on the amazing people that are around us. The neighbours, the old couple over the road, the mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers that we take for granted.

I only hope this hasn't been a complete load of shit that I have written. I don't want to sound like someone trying to preach, or someone bigging himself up. I have realised that life is too short to constantly worry about the negatives around. If we concentrated on happiness, instead of being materialistic etc, we may actually make this life thing work. This will fall on deaf ears - we'll carry on putting up with the bad news and not the good. We'll carry on buying celebrity magazines and trying to get a "side-boob" view of celebrities that have been papped by a long lens whilst on holiday. We'll carry on sending people to their deaths in other countries, instead of trying to sort things out properly. We'll fund people's right to protest (The EDL have reportedly cost the police forces in the NW £1.8 million to police their marches) - yet complain when the police do not have enough bodies on the street. We'll complain about bankers' bonuses. We'll do fuck all about all of these things, because then we can have a right good gossip and moan. We can share in our woes, because it makes us feel better. We won't change, because there are far too many sheep happily following the flock. Well, one day it will be too late. FFS, what has happened to saying hello to someone you pass on the street? I get looked at like I'm a nutter (ok, that is up for debate anyway, but still, come on ffs!) if I smile at an old biddy when I'm out walking the dog. We're to worried about a rapist's human rights to think about the important things in life. I'm no fucking hippy you know, I don't go round hugging bloody trees (my dog has probably pissed on them ffs), I can't stand the sight of some people, but I would still try and help them if they needed help.

You, the person reading this, you're fucking amazing you know. Do you know that? Really? Tell you what, go and tell that cunt you pass in the street every morning, you know, the one you can't stand because he walks like Jar Jar Fucking Binks, yeah, him. Go and tell him how good life is. Strike up a conversation with someone you don't know. Don't be that twat on the bus or train who stinks of piss, but speak to the twat. You never know, he could be a top geezer down on his luck, and all he needs is someone to pass the time of day with him for once instead of grunting at him and pretending he ain't there. He could go onto to be a fantastic artist, a teacher, a parent - all because your two minutes of decency brought him back from the edge. Life is fucking great, people are great.

Thanks for reading (you probably never got this far, seems like I've prattled on for fucking ages. I have no idea how long this is, or how long it will take to read. But fuck it, I feel better for writing it, so I'm happy!