Matt Tuckey is a writer from Oldham, England. He covers celebrities, night life, Manchester, fitness, creative writing, social media, psychology and events. Some of this may, in some way, help others. Or maybe it'll just entertain you for a while.
Friday, 14 January 2011
Throw ‘em all together and pick out what you want…
For this week’s writing exercise we were all given three slips of paper. We wrote a word on each piece, then placed them all in the middle of the table. We then picked out the words we liked the look of, and weaved a story using these words with fifteen-minutes on the clock.
I pulled out…
COCKROACH
FATE
FELT
Try this at your group- let us know how it goes! Here's my little vignette- I hope you like...
----
Roger tied his scarf tight and turned up his collar, stepping from the pub into the dimly lit cobbled street. He wished he’d brought his hat. His scalp started to tingle in the frosty air. He stroked his hair- a subconscious gesture- only realising he was doing so when he felt the lump.
He gasped and threw his hand out. Something was still clinging to his fingers. The bug- large, with two antenna big enough to pick up FM signals- hissed like a snake.
“Jesus Christ!” he said, flicking his arm like it was on fire. The bug landed on the arched cobbles on the road, belly up.
“Hey,” said the bug.
Roger froze.
“Hey. Come on. I didn’t ask for that.”
“What. The. Fuck.”
“Come here.”
Silence.
“Yes, yes, I’m a talking cockroach. Get over it. Look,” said the bug, who was facing away from Roger. “My legs reached the ground before. Turn me the right side up.”
“Okay,” said Roger. “Who are you, like?”
“I am Frederick, your saviour cockroach. I’m here to give you an extra life.”
“No thanks,” said Roger. “I don’t believe that shit.”
“Seriously. Turn me over and I’ll explain.”
Roger stepped out into the road. Grimacing, he turned the roach over. At first he thought it was screaming. Then he realised that the sound was car tyres grinding over the road’s slick cobbles. The car slammed into the shop, bursting into flames, right where Roger had been stood seconds before.
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Barcode Scanner- THIS WILL CHANGE THE WAY YOU SHOP.
“The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.”
-Henry David Thoreau, U.S. philosopher
Those of you with Android phones can now buy a product at the lowest legal first-hand price, every time.
On the Android Market, you can now find the Barcode Scanner- an app that allows you to check out a product for pricing details. The app is free.
I’ve tested it in a few shops recently, which has been interesting. It’s the kind of thing you don’t want shop assistants to notice, seeing as you’re definitely not going to buy anything there. There’s always a cheaper option online, no matter what you’re buying.
The app uses your camera to see the barcode. Your viewfinder will show a flashing red line which you can place over the item's barcode. Press the shutter. Within a second, you'll have a thumbnail photograph of the barcode, along with a description of the item.
My scanning tests have had varying results.
Nothing in clothing shop Allsaints would scan. I think this is because Allsaints stock their own products, and the only other place you’re going to find their gear is second-hand distributors, mostly on E-bay.
Manchester’s T K Maxx was a similar disappointment- I put this down to having no reception. The whole store is underground. Trendy entertainment / coffee shop Fopp is similarly subterranean and didn't yield results.
However, I tried a few DVDs in HMV. Success! The app recognised the item with a loud BEEP (so in smaller shops I could expect a few dodgy looks. The phone's silent mode cancels that out). I clicked the option to search Google for the product, and the app showed me a list of places offering the item- from cheapest upwards. So, HMV. You want £20 for the Cleveland Show? ‘Fraid not. Amazon has it at £15.47.
I scanned a bottle of Glenkinichie in Selfridges. It’s cheapest at Loch Fyne Whiskies (lfw.co.uk). Chivas Regal in Tesco? Masterofmalt.co.uk has the best price.
Provided you trust the mail companies to deliver these things to you, you can get most items first-hand at the best price, every time using this app. This will inevitably lead to an army of “shoppers” walking into stores, scanning what they want and walking straight back out without buying it- at least, not in that shop.
We can make a few more predictions about shopping habits. Internet shopping will continue to grow in the UK, with consumer’s trust in this type of commerce steadily solidifying.
E-shopping, once something done only at home, is now something you can do anywhere- including in the actual high-street stores. Shop security will be stepped up because of this. Will they like you scanning their products? Not likely. Fairly soon, first-hand prices for products will be unified. To avoid a price war that would drive companies under, outlets will agree on a set price that they will all charge for each product- thus rendering the scanner pretty pointless. Unless…
Outlets start to confuse the issue with multi-buy offers- three for two on DVDs, for instance, which many places like HMV already do. To tempt us away from buying alcohol online, offering deals like this on wines, beers and spirits could keep us coming back to the high street. Some whisky experts say a dram is best served with a drop of mineral water from the Scottish highlands. Expect to see the two of these sold together, on the high street, at “discounted” prices soon. Want a bottle of wine? How about some heavily-discounted-but-finely manufactured cheese to go with it?
For the moment, however, the app is working and is effective. Download the Barcode Scanner from the Android Market today. Check it out, and let me know what you find- and if it changes the way you shop. Which I think it will.
Tuesday, 11 January 2011
December Optimism
Ray Tango: I've got good news and bad news.
Gabriel Cash: What's the bad news?
Ray Tango: We're almost out of gas.
Gabriel Cash: What's the good news?
Ray Tango: We're ALMOST out of gas.
Ray Tango (Sylvester Stallone) and Gabriel Cash (Kurt Russell) discuss optimism while using a monster truck to smash their way into a drug baron's high-security crib in the 1989 cheese-fest, Tango & Cash.
Other than writing review site Urbis.com biting the dust- other than me losing a shitload of writing when this happened…
Other than Facebook’s Live Blog application disappearing, making it difficult to show people the writing I’m doing…
Other than checking out review site greatwriting.co.uk and finding out that the writing advice provided there is far from great…
Other than thousands of films that I’d transferred to DVD not wanting to play for me, meaning I might have lost 90% of a film collection that I’ve been amassing since 1997…
Other than decorating grinding to a halt over the Christmas period (I TOLD you it would take ages…)
Other than the fact that there are no jobs…
December has been pretty good. I found a twenty note on the floor in the snow. I got a “token payment” for my erotic story “Afterwards”, the first time I’ve been paid for a piece of writing.
(http://www.everynighterotica.com/afterwards-matt-tuckey/)
I visited the Manchester Evening News offices with work. I added the word “braggadocios” to my vocabulary. (You could describe me this way on the basis of this blog.) The first publication to accept a story from me, Flash Fire 500, has reopened to submissions and already has some fine new content.
http://flashfire500.blogspot.com/
I went to free cookery class in Oldham, ran by Granada Tonight’s resident chef, Dave Mooney. He’s got my blog card. Hi Dave! The vegetarian stir-fry he taught us to make was delicious. The event was part of the Love Food Hate Waste campaign. You might have seen the ads featuring the people who bear a strange resemblance to the food they are promoting.
http://www.lovefoodhatewaste.com/?referer=recycle-more
The site says “The campaign aims to raise awareness of the need to reduce food waste. The campaign shows that by doing some easy practical everyday things in the home we can all waste less food, which will ultimately benefit our purses and the environment too.”
There may be more classes soon. Get involved. You even get a free meal!
This year, my work’s Christmas party was held at the beautiful Vermilion bar and restaurant in Manchester.
http://www.vermilioncinnabar.com/
The great Thai food- small samples of a range of bizarre sauces and fine cuts of meat add to a flurry of tastes and smells, making Vermilion a fine choice. To get to the restaurant, you need to be escorted to the first floor in a lift. On emerging into the table area, note the stunning carved woodwork décor and tower of florescent multicoloured Buddha heads (stretching through a gap from the floor below).
After the feast, make your way downstairs to the dance floor where the spherical lighting and lack of hard lines in the décor are very reminiscent of the Korova Milk Bar in Kubrick’s Clockwork orange. Instead of synthesised Beethoven, Vermilion’s DJ pumps out quality house music. You can even reserve a pod- a semi-cocooned sofa with a seat the length of a double bed. Very suggestive.
It was quiet when I went on a Thursday. I may check the place out on a Saturday to get the full feel of the place. As you’d expect in a bar this fine, you get what you pay for. So I’m going to have to go wadded.
I continued living the socialite existence- something I can’t really afford to do- through Christmas. Manchester was dead on Christmas Eve. Christmas day was a great time, even though I was almost blinded by a remote-controlled helicopter. On boxing day I toured the pubs and bars of Saddleworth and Oldham, along with thirty mates, all of us dressed in Christmas jumpers. I got so drunk that I started demonstrating MMA moves to people, and put one of my friends (who happens to be a police officer) into an arm triangle, momentarily cutting the blood off to his head.
Okay, okay. He was asking me about it, and wanted a demonstration. I’m not THAT type of guy! Jesus!
It looked a bit like this, only we were standing up. And the pubs of Oldham don't have padded floors.
Just to cancel out the joy of finding that £20, I go and park in Manchester and forget to pay and display. £35 fine. I amaze myself sometimes. On the way home, the radio tells me that Boney M’s Bobby Farrell has died. Fuck me. What a bad day. I didn’t even buy anything!
New years eve… was awesome. Saw it in at Rififi Stalybridge. Great music, great company, great women, great midnight balloon drop. I also got a hard copy of Bar and Clubbing magazine, featuring my article, from the magazine editor, Richard.
Here’s the E-version…
http://www.barandclubbing.com/magazine.php
A spectacular round-off to a pretty good year, all in all. More of these moments to come, hopefully. Much love to all my friends and family. You made it the month- and the year- it was.
Monday, 10 January 2011
Do Not Make New Year’s Resolutions.
“This Year, Give Up Giving Up.”
-Very old Benson and Hedges advert.
I realise I should have been telling you this in December, but better late than never. You’ve probably already made- and broken- your resolutions by now. I haven’t, and I never will. Here’s why.
I am a man with a lot of problems, and I make a lot of mistakes. I forget things. I don’t make enough money. I fuck up with women on a monumental, devastating scale. I’m not as ripped as I’d like to be. I’m not as confident either. I’ve got my own flat, but I’m still decorating it, and have been doing for MONTHS. I have no power of persuasion, hence a) nobody helping me decorate and b) I’m single. I’m not a great chef. I’m trying to get a reputation through blogging, short stories and poems. Not many people have heard of me. Yet. I struggle to sleep (possibly due to all of the above.)
Any or all of these things I could use as inspiration for my new-years resolutions. But I won’t, for the simple reason that I’m already working on it- and always have been.
I haven’t made new years resolutions for years, because there hasn’t been a time when I’ve not been looking at myself and thinking of ways to improve. It’s a bit late now, with it being January and all, but try NOT making resolutions this year, and instead, every day, look at your life and think- is there a better way of doing this? What am I putting off? Should I start rearranging my time to fit more exercise in? Do I need to ditch my other half? Do I need to learn a new skill?
Maybe you’ve found this blog the day after I’ve uploaded it. Maybe an obscure Google search has brought you to this page years later. (After checking my blogger stats, I can tell you these things happen.) However long it’s taken you to find this, why not start making these little changes right now? Why not keep that mentality of, how can I sharpen myself today?
What are you working on that there’s actually no point making a resolution about? Comment below!
Sunday, 9 January 2011
Allpoetry.com is GAY.
After the unexplained demise of Urbis.com, I needed a new place online to get feedback on creative writing. I wanted a site like Urbis- free, and with good constructive criticism to help me fine-tune the lit I'm sending out to places. A Google search took me to Allpoetry.com.
The design of the site is great. The user uploads a profile, uploads writing and decides how their page should look using a range of backgrounds. Each poem they upload can also be altered to suit, with interchangeable background and text colours.
To gain reviews, as is the norm on these sites, first you've got to give them. I got cracking and fired a load of reviews out. As one of my pieces is an erotic poem, I hammered the Erotica category to see what others were doing. I wasn't bowled over. The poems themselves were okay, but not of the calibre I'd expect in any lit magazines. I gave most poets the “compliment sandwich”- open with praise, constructively criticise, close with praise. Yes, I have lifted the phrase from Family Guy. More details on this here:
http://powerisastateofmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/compliment-sandwich.html
However, I don't really know what I'm doing with poetry. I joined the site to learn. The way to learn how to write is to accept criticism. That way, you know what to improve. It might sound like I'm stating the obvious, but I was the only reviewer on Allpoetry offering criticism. Every review I saw was nothing but shallow ego-stroking.
“Wow! That wz realli nice! :)”
I asked a question in the site's forum- why is nobody criticising each other?
A member replied that there's a Poetry for Revision section for those hoping to improve their work.
What's the point in there only being a section? What do you stand to gain from NOT being criticised?
Regardless, I had a browse around the revision section- the reviews offered are visible to all under the uploaded poems. They still weren't that explicit. So no, I'm afraid I won't be using allpoetry.com again. If anyone knows of any effective writing sites that are free- and that will push writers into being better poets- by all means, comment below.
Saturday, 8 January 2011
This Article is Doomed
“How many of you have ever started dating because you were too lazy to commit suicide?”
-Judy Tenuta, U.S. Comedienne
Apparently, I'm an arrogant, conceited jerk. Supposedly, nobody would ever want to take advice from me. I'm generally offensive to anyone who has a daughter or sister, or anyone who is one.
This is according to feedback that I received on an article I wrote about women and dating. I put this piece of writing on the review site urbis.com (back when the site actually worked. Now it's fucked, and no-one knows why). Take a look.
The Ten Biggest Mistakes Girls Make When Dating
Contrary to popular belief, there are lots of good men out there. Granted, we males slip up from time to time and lose the girl. I myself had to read a lot of advice after repeatedly screwing up dates and finding myself at square one. Half the time I didn't even realise that my lack of assertion had ended the process, and that the excuses- "My ex got back in touch… I'm too busy with my kid… My phone's, erm, broke. The fact that I can talk to you on it is a miracle…" were just that. Excuses. I found a lot of advice that helped me to bypass those problems, but now I'm finding that it's not just me- or other men- facing a tough challenge. Now, I'm not a psychologist. I'm not even that experienced with women now, (cue the violins… no really) but I've been on enough dates to pinpoint ten classic dating errors that I'd rather not deal with again. And I'm sure, ladies, you'd rather not either.
1) MANLINESS.
No man wants to see you act all tough and resilient. That is our job. Act like a lady if you want a gentleman. And I'm sorry, but traditionally beer is a man's drink. A pretty girl with a pint of special brew is similar to a pair of elegant ladies' shoes after stepping in excrement. Just remember we've got to kiss that later. The beer-lips I mean. Not… well, you get it.
2) AGGRESSION
Similar to the above, only worse… Civilised society now doesn't really allow a man to crack the skull of a challenging aggressor in order to protect his spouse. But that doesn't mean we've palmed the job off to the women. Learn this, ladies: Lose your temper: lose the man. We don't want to see you go off at the hinges at someone (especially not for them spilling your pint while rocking out to "Soldier Boy"). Hide behind us (even if we are cowering behind the nearest doorman ourselves…)
3) TRYING TO IMPRESS
When men do this it's a particular pet hate for women. It goes the other way too- a man either thinks you're sexy or he doesn't. So if he's agreed to a date, you've won half the battle. The things that impress women don't necessarily impress men. We're not too bothered by how much money you make (although if you've got your own place, there are benefits). A quick anecdote of your claim to fame is always entertaining for the first date. But after this- unless you genuinely are a hairdresser to the stars- please keep these tales to a minimum. They tell us little about the real "you", and make us feel like paupers.
4) FLAUNTING
This is different to flirting. Flirting is suggestive and leaves a lot to the imagination. But bending over on nightclub podium in a size 16 macro skirt or rolling around on a beer-drenched dance floor trying to be "X-Tina" will only give us the impression that you're a slag.
5) SELF DOUBT
Another that men are frequently guilty of- the feeling that "Someone could have whoever they want. So why go for me?" American dating guru David DeAngelo coined the mantra "attraction is not a choice". Amen, David. Sometimes we can't explain why we like someone. It's just a feeling we get. By asking us what we see in you or why we asked you for your number, you're making us think- "Why? Am I out of your league? Should I look out for someone better?" Before you know it we won't be around, and you'll be single again. The man will be too, thinking: "Damn it. I should have stuck it out."
6) ANSWERING THE PHONE MID-DATE
We all lead busy lives these days and mobiles have become an integral part of day-to-day tasks. Even men feel naked without them. If it goes off while you are on a date, answer it. Leaving it ringing will just distract us, and besides- what if it is something drastic? We don't want to be held responsible for a household tragedy if the plumber/ babysitter/ parent couldn't get through to you. However, if you do answer it, remember that we primitive men can only hold our chain of thought for a few minutes. So break a tradition and keep the phone call short. And while we're on the subject, why not stroke our egos by telling said caller that you have a handsome man to attend to and you've got to go? Details, you tell the caller, follow later.
7) CRYING TOO MUCH
Aww. There, there. We kind of like providing the shoulder to weep on- being the rock to cling to at times of distress... the protective, supportive type like men used to be in the olden days. But come on, woman. It's only a nail. There are plenty of places you can get it done. It's not even like you grew it yourself!
8) DRINKING TOO MUCH
There are three major problems with this- two if we're not necessarily nice guys. One- we nice guys don't want to think of you on a life support machine through years of liver abuse. Honestly, sometimes we hate to see you do it to yourselves! Two- if you flirt with us, we assume you are only doing it because you are drunk. You'll find our number on your phone a few days later (if you managed to see the screen while you typed it in) but you'll have no idea who we are, and we'll realise that momentary lust only happened through blinding alcohol. Three- and here's what bothers us men the most- If we like you but you're wasted, we probably won't chat you up because we look like we are either taking the easy option- the drunk girl who doesn't realise she's being cracked on to- or we look like a date rapist coercing his latest victim. No man wants to give off that impression.
9) JUMPING THE GUN
Contrary to popular belief, not every man wants sex the first night he meets a woman. Unless it's obviously going that quickly and you both feel like the bedroom is the next ideal date setting, slow… down. If you invite him back too soon he will probably appreciate the opportunity and think himself lucky. But if it was me, I'd be thinking- this was too easy. How many other guys has she gone through?
10) BYPASSING PROTECTION
Last but by no means least, play it safe. No man wants to think that you've got something, but the sorry fact is that one in eight girls in Britain have a sexually transmitted infection, according to Britain's Health Protection Agency. This is the one part of sex where really- it's nothing personal.
–
There you go. Hate me enough now?
Suffice to say, I ended up not sending this to any magazines. There's a number of reasons. The first, and most obvious, is that I sound like a total bastard. I don't sound like someone that women would come to for advice. Surprise surprise- I'm not.
The second reason this article does not work: I have written advice for women, but in the voice of a magazine for men. I was going for an Esquire feel to the article, even though the target audience was actually women. I perhaps should have tailored it to the likes of Cosmopolitan, Elle or Allure- the journalistic styles of which I know nothing about. Reviewers even said that Esquire was a bit upmarket for an article like this- it was really so dumbed down that it might scrape into the taste fields of FHM or Loaded.
There was something slightly more important than the fact that I'd mixed up my intended audience.
One female reviewer told me that she was disappointed in the article, as she didn't gain anything from reading it. She didn't know what kind of woman would make those mistakes. I replied, telling her, I know a few.
This was, like most of my work, written from an autobiographical perspective. All of the above mistakes are traits that I've been on the receiving end of while I've played the dating game. It's now been a couple of years since I wrote this article, and I was hoping that a bit of breathing time might help me to realise that I'd just been weirdly unfortunate- that the romantic horrors I'd endured were nothing more than a spell of bad luck. After all, the article theme isn't original. Google “mistakes women make when dating.” Giving someone the silent treatment, Trying to “coax” him into a relationship against his will, not putting the effort in yourself- the advice is all out there. My own additions- being a psycho, flaunting, acting like a butch man, etc- these aren't particularly helpful to most presentable women. It's only in my home town of Oldham that this shit goes down. It's only here that people have to deal with it. Prove me wrong. There may be other towns where these dating problems recur, but when I go to Manchester or Stalybridge- areas just outside of Oldham- I never see this kind of thing. Okay, in Manchester on occasion, women do drink too much- but I never see women drag each other across the dance floor by their hair out there, nor in Staly. Only in Oldham. I have yet to see a morbidly obese woman dirty dancing on a nightclub podium, outside of Oldham.
I didn't go out in Oldham until I was maybe 22- I'd been living in Manchester for a few years at university, and before that I wasn't even dating at all... Uni dates may have been dull, but at least the girls knew how to hold themselves. It wasn't until I hit the Oldham scene that these problems emerged- and re-emerged. Meeting girls was easy- meeting girls that weren't nihilistic, butch sociopaths was an altogether different struggle. That struggle continues. I still meet girls like this: I haven’t moved out of the town, and the town hasn't changed on this respect. But I have found a few decent local girls over the years. I don't want to discredit them. They were diamonds in the rough, and the above advice will probably be of no use to them. So I tip my metaphorical hat to those girls. I just hope they enjoy reading this, regardless.
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