Brown is the new Black

My Blog has had a makeover! readership numbers are dwindling, the novelty is wearing off. People are voting with their feet and shouting 'There's nothing here for me". Well good, F Off! This blog is for me. I like blogging, I like blogging, I like blogging and I like to blog. I wanted to be a journalist when I was 13 but I failed my exams so I became a Printer and then a Teacher. I haven't darkened a classroom entrance for 10 years but there is a slim chance that I might be back in one next week. I've had the call. They're desperate, they need someone to cover 'English' in a Welsh Medium School. An Oxymoron if ever there was one. Teaching the language of the Oppressor, the language of the Western Mail but what am I saying? It was the only exam I passed, I passed English Language, English Literature and Welsh as a second language. After six years in an oppressive, imperialist outpost in North Wales where my father spent a small fortune on my education and I come out with 3 O levels.(GCSEs) So my dreams of writing the editorial for the Daily Mirror or the Denbighshire Free Press were dashed at 16. I left after two terms of A level study after making a mockery of my mocks, with the History teacher phoning home and saying to my mother that he had never had a pupil take such a disrespectful attitude to an exam in all his teaching career. There were questions about Catherine the Great and Maria Therese and I could see others writing away like loons(the irony) and I proceeded to 'pleasure myself' by writing out a comical satire based on these two characters claiming that they were both members of a clog dancing troupe from Oldham. My fate had been sealed, I began work at 17 years of age in a Dickensian Printers called Gwasg Gee, Denbigh, North Wales on £25.00 from Margaret Thatcher's own purse on the Youth Opportunities Programme. Here I am 31 years later on only double that amount a week, working tax credits, but the difference is, that today I am a free man. 
So my blog has had a 'makeover'. Brown is a very comforting colour. The colour of old things, the colour of gravitas, the colour of safe shoes and it is also the colour of Poo.  Although a follower of Jung I must declare an interest in Freud's anal phase. I am fascinated by poo because it's something that we all do, that we all have in common. We all block the sewers with our detritus. I can actually remember my own potty and toilet training days and my dear mother promising me oodles of Cherry Corona Pop if I moved from the potty to the po to do my poo.  I bet you thought this post was going to be about race didn't you? Well naughty, naughty you!