"Another Caviar nibble Mr Loader?"

My apologies for the sporadic nature of my shambolic postings of late.

As a fledgling Rock God I dreamt of lengthy lie ins having performed at one of my many stadium type gigs the night before. This would of course be followed by a sumptuous brunch in my five star hotel room, with perhaps a manicure or some other suitably relaxing and decedent non activity to follow.

By the time I was in a fit state of mind to face my adoring world, my driver would have arrived to deliver me in style to one of the many radio interviews, album signings, or all factory star personal appearances that I would have to reluctantly fit in before being driven to the BBC for my exclusive interview with Michael Parkinson or Terry Wogan (if you are under 30 years old read that as Jonathan Ross or rather surprisingly, Paul O’Grady or Jay Leno if you are Stateside).

You would then find me consuming slap up cuisine in some 5 star pile in the centre of London being regally entertained by a Hollywood A list celebrity, and then back to my 5 star four poster bed for a good nights kip giving me the strength to do it all over again the next day.

The reality of the matter is (of course) somewhat different.

As young fledgling Rock God, I nearly starved to death in the backside end of some European kingdom, such as Holland (well, not perhaps starved to death, but certainly hungry enough to eat the horse meat we got served on one occasion….and no it doesn’t taste like chicken).

The dream of those 5 star hotels and interviews with the best chat show hosts in the land, died pretty much in the Netherlands really.

Now, like most mid life Rock stars…I have to work for a living to maintain my visions of fame and glory. Believe you me; bass guitar strings do not come cheap.

For my sins I work for the NHS….with children to be exact…..and it can be VERY hard work indeed.

Having somehow lost my way in life I now find myself as the administrator for the service in which I earn a crust.

Most days are spent bashing away at my criminally slow computer and wondering if I should have gone from Holland to Germany as opposed back to Blighty and the welcoming bosom of WH Smith & Sons (that’s a national chain of book and stationary retailers for you outside of the UK), where my desperate slide into ‘ordinary’ began to take it’s deathly grip.

I didn’t stay there incidentally, but that’s a story for another blog in another place.

All that being said, I was apologising for my tardiness in posting blogs, and the reason for that is of late….I’ve been too flippin busy!!

However, I am sorry and I will undertake to fill you in on just exactly what did (or didn’t) happen at the Fight Club as soon as I can find the bottom of my desk.

Please keep the faith and don’t wander off just yet!!