Tommy 2.0

   Last week I was alerted to a Buzzfeed article, asking the reader to 'Meet The Man Who Stopped Thousands Of People Becoming HIV-Positive' . Imagine my surprise when, upon opening the article, I was left wondering if I had indeed already met the man, in the mirror!    As well as the familiar image catching my eye, a checklist accompanying the banner also got me questioning if it was indeed me. Homeless? Technically no, but I'm also not what you'd call a homeowner. Unemployed? At the time of reading the article, yes. Stopped Thousands Contracting HIV? Technically yes. By not having HIV, nor sleeping with thousands of people, I'd say I fit the criteria.    It soon became clear, once I'd navigated past the image, that the article wasn't about myself. It was actually about Greg Owen, predominantly referred to by his surname Owen; a homeless, unemployed, former sex worker, with a soft-Belfast accent. Had it been about me, I'd have loved the B...

...and all you got was this lousy blog post! Count yourselves lucky. Where to start? Well firstly, this has been the best World Cup in living memory. To put that into context, I started remembering World Cup's around 1998. On the horizon are some massive  semis , the hardest of which is probably Brazil's. Given how far each team has 'cum' though, they'll all be looking at their respective ' drawers ' with a big grin etched across their faces. That's enough rubbish cock innuendos for one day! I spent two weeks in  Ceará , the self-proclaimed ' County Durham of Brazil '. It's nickname concerns the geographical location rather than any regional dialect. To be fair, I understood more of what was being said here than the last time I visited the birthplace of modern English mustard in the North East of England. I even learnt a new phrase,  escovar os dentes . No idea why people kept shouting it at me though. Upon my voyage I was accompanied...