Jeffw's Blog

Get OUT of my pub!

Just joking, WELCOME! Here, you'll find some short fiction stories, anecdotes and my possible grumpy opinion on pretty much everything and anything. As you didn't in the slightest asked for it and because I can be magnanimous, I'll try to wrap it all in a clever cocktail of sarcastic witticism and stylish dark humour of the latest fashion, under the icy sophistication of which, you'll discern my true cry of despair to witness our world going to pot... or maybe it's just something I ate.
Don't hesitate to leave a comment! Thanks you, come again.

Caution MAY CONTAIN STRONG LANGUAGE AND HAZARDOUS PUNCTUATION... and with a bit of luck, some English too.

Friday, 1 March 2013


… “I had to start it somewhere
so it started there” ~ Pulp

Yes, a new blogger and yet another blog.

Even if I would prefer to call it a column (with no newspaper backing, true), I fully understand that we could begin straight away on a divergence of opinion.

You can't be the victim of yet another French man with delusion of 'grandeur', even though I'm 6'1'', which cast me aside of the historically famous one. Furthermore, I never wear a bicorne hat and only occasionally play with my left nipple, through the material of my shirt, under my waistcoat...
However, it does look like a blog – not my nipple, silly, this blog – and on Blogger too, of all places, so you might have a point...

I just wanted to have a few words of introduction, as you don't know me yet.
Why would you otherwise be interested in what I could think of the price of locally grown corn in the markets of La Paz?
On second thought, even if you knew me, why would you be interested in what I can think about the price of locally grown corn in the markets of La Paz?! Or anything else, for that matter?
But eh! It isn't the point, is it? You're here to satisfy my disproportionate perception of my self-importance as long as I, in return, amuse and entertain you. A pretty much win-win, if slightly disturbing, situation really, if done well...

So, hi! I'm Jeffw (pronounce Jeffoo) and I am an actor.
Before you ask, no, not a failed one, just an actor.
True to say that what you generally see is that bright shiny crust of the famous ones at the top, the star dusted icing of Hollywood, but there's plenty more of us underneath (we are the raisins of this giant fruitcake). All those cheap adverts and bad TV series walk-on parts don't act themselves you know.

Still, it's one of the professions with the highest rate of unemployment - around 90 to 95% in average.
How the none-working ones can call themselves actors if they don't “act” and how the thing is calculated is a mystery to me far greater than the lost city of Atlantis (which I found at the bottom of my bath once. Well... I hope that's what it was).
All I know is that, like most of them/us, I've done hundred of other things to make ends meet, to name but a few: manager of an Irish folk band, window cleaner in the posh quarters of Paris, sea-diver in a South-Pacific black pearl farm and guest-star in a sitcom on national Welsh television.

I also choose something years ago that my kind – the Homo Sapiens Thespians – generally don't go for: life over career.

I turned out to be a bit of a family man.

Instead of trying to make a living out my 'calling', establish myself, reach a substantial financial security before settling down, I went at it all back to front. In a very 'boheme' spirit, I decided to
follow life for a while, to see where it would take me. And a good idea it was too!
After just a couple of attempts, I found myself a wonderful wife. We're now happily growing home-made organic kids in rural Wales and all is well.

“But what of that artistic fibre of yours?” I hear you NOT asking as you must be fast asleep by now!

It is true to say that it is the kind of beast that you have to satisfy, once in a while. Especially when life becomes quieter and when some extra incomes would not go amiss – children do need to be fed, who knew?!

What am I suppose to do then? Leave my wannabe-widow and the sprogs of my own evil behind and hit the road again? Well, yes, but the offers don't come so often. So what?
Living in an isolated village of West-Wales, so small that I could probably kill its entire population and not make it to the national news, I naturally turned towards an old friend; this activity you can do at home and on your own, when you find a bit of time to yourself. No, not that one, the other one: Writing.

I have been writing for as long as I can remember (but I have very little recollection of my pre-school years, which might explain this).
My earliest work include an manuscript Alphabet, of which I was only really satisfied after numerous revisions, and a few stinging and brief pamphlets about a classmate called Eric.
More recently I became, at a short stretch of the imagination, a published author, when one of my short-stories appeared in a specialised magazine – and once again, no, not that kind of 'specialised', it was a publication dedicated to literary short-stories, obviously. Mine was all about Erotica.
No, it wasn't.

The blogging is a dramatic consequence of that writing bad habit of mine. First in French and now, here.

Am I trying to define and recreate myself through my writing? Nah, it's just a bit of a laugh really.

You'll find in these pages my hopefully humorous rants on topics as diverse as news, fashion, television, politics, why football?, inequality, religion, parenting, my War Against Stereotypes, the unbearable cruelty of the daily scalding of innocent spoons in boiling liquids (not even always tea!), life, the universe and the rest...
You'll find some anecdotes, funny and less so.
You might find some useful lessons too, but I doubt it.

You might also find, if you're less lucky, some of my short fiction!

And I'll try to keep everything concise, of course.

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