A weird old Christmas and a hopeful new year.

A weird old Christmas and a hopeful new year.
image
Mog, hey Mog!

It’s been a weird old Christmas and nothing like the big family affairs I’m used to, feels a bit lonely and quiet… Christmas Eve I was on my own as the kids were doing their turns at their dads. Boxing Day is usually our little Christmas Day and I do the meal and invite friends who never come, so this year I didn’t have the courage or energy let alone money or organisation to invite anybody. So instead, my son is off to his dad’s to see his cousin and My poorly tired daughter has been soundly sleeping on the sofa next to me all day. May as well be on my own, again.

My 89 year old grandad is very poorly and in hospital, I spent most of the day there on Christmas Day with few family. We had a quiet dinner at my mums after and the kids came back.

image
Visiting grandad on Christmas Day.

Visited one of my best friends at about 8pm till 11pm, that was nice. Poor love was exhausted from doing a full dinner for her otherwise lone family. She made some lovely mince pies, they deserve a mention, I had my last one on my own today and savoured every last bite Janie! image

I’m babysitting my grandma tomorrow… For 6 hours, giving my mum and my stepdad (still feels mad to say that when I still miss my dad so much) a break, I don’t think I’ve ever been on my own with her for more than an hour and she is so anxious it’s going to be tough to keep her happy. I guess the tv will have to save us.

At least I feel full of food, that’s consistent right?! I’ve been non stop gorging in a lone comfort eating way, grasping at anything that might make me feel full of the warm cheer that we are all supposed to have. Now I’m feeling fatter yay…

Ah Christmas you crazy bastard, what are you all about?
The media forces warmth and togetherness upon you and gives you that fantasy, strays invited in, long lost friends and family huddled together but in reality I’m not surrounded by loved ones, I’m sure I’m having a much better Christmas than a lot of people are but it gets fucking sad being single at this time of year, (and valentines and birthdays ah hell, all of the times!)
I’d apologise for the miserable if I didn’t feel like I needed to share with other sad loners alone at Christmas…or anyone!

image
I imagine this is what togetherness is like at Christmas, although I’d hoped Mog would have been a little happier.

What would it feel like to have that special someone on my arm for Christmas? Maybe a family extending love to me, giving me that fuzzy contentment that adverts from November have been selling me.

Got to move on, keep on keeping on, it’s all you can really do, remain hopeful as next year might be a different story altogether, I might get the full house of loved ones I’ve always dreamed of, hell I might even cook the dinner I bought all the ingredients for (and not just for my boy and I, my daughter doesn’t like roasts) and make it go round lots of happy faces that stay over and laugh till dawn with me.

image
I’d like next year to be more like my wardrobe, colourful, rich, diverse and beautiful.

I hope you’ve had a good Christmas or made it as good as you can! Here’s hoping this new year will offer us dreams that come true!

I’m going to eat some Brie now, and possibly wash that down with a glass of port.
Alone.

Happy fucking Christmas one and all!

Thanks for reading!

Advertisements

Dating, it’s a dangerous game! (For a single mum)

Dating, it’s a dangerous game! (For a single mum)
image
My current beau and I enjoying a snuggle 

Dating as a single mum is a dangerous game, true love where art thou?

I have a lot of things to say about this and I’m not sure where to start, obviously this is written from my own personal experience of being a single mum for a few years (6?) so I think I’ve covered most bases… Not in a sleazy way I just mean I’ve explored most of the crappy options that are available.

My first point is that I’m happy on my own with my awesome kids, I don’t NEED a man it would just be nice to meet someone who wants to love us and be loved and who could fit into our life without anything being affected, moreover my mental health. It’s hard to juggle two kids and hold down a job, keep things washed up, clean, tidy and pay rent, bills, do school runs, 3 meals a day, doctors appointments blah blah blah… So ideally this potential man should be self sufficient, motivated, supportive, respectful, up for a spontaneous adventure and have the music taste and looks of Joshua Homme or the beard of Shia Lebeouf. Jokes, looks aren’t THAT important, well…

image
Joshua Homme please, I’ll even take Brody and the kids on. (image from rollingstone.com)

So, the weekend is pretty much when you can get out, if you are lucky enough to have a babysitter or the kids are at their dads, which leaves an evening surrounded by drunk men who just want to bang you. Not all the men want to bang me just the ones who may approach are only after said bang.

To be honest at the weekend I just want to let my hair down and have a good dance and a giggle so it’s not somewhere I’d be trying to find a man anyway, (except the kebab man for an unhealthy portion of doner meat chips and cheese with garlic mayo) and it’s not the way to meet a ‘decent’ man. Getting out is a once maybe twice a month thing so it’s sacred and exclusively for footwork and Whiskey.

image
It’s a weekend thing…

I’m sure if I had a regular life and not a crazy upside down whirlwind I could arrange for the worlds to collide and money to be saved to go to a class or activity that I may find my future husband at but right now that seems impossible. Still in the pipeline so watch this space!

What does that leave? How can I communicate with single men that might actually want to date me not just bed me? Yep, you guessed it, online! Every evening I’m alone, my kids are tucked up in bed and I want to be sociable, I want to have a long chat with an intellectual interesting man about the finer points of his dvd collection or the inner workings of Jimmy Page’s mind.
Cue the internet! Tada!
It all started on an O2 chat forum, I met a big tough metalhead guy, we got on so well and I almost dated him but he was up north and my father was very ill down south (here) I couldn’t handle long distance so we stayed friends, drifted apart and now he’s married and settled. (My dream) I then joined a site called mocospace where I met a skinny little reggae fan coincidentally from up north who would come down and visit me and talked about me moving with him away from my family to the north, he got weird in ways I won’t mention so I ended that and gave up for a while. This was about 5 ish years ago.

image
Online dating in a tin. No thanks!

I met a guy from Djing together, we hit it off but it turned out he was an alcoholic, the kind that gets nasty, so before any harm could come I battened down the hatches, not having that around my kids!!

A recurring ex visits, tries to get into my life, does ‘nice’ things, turns out he just wants sex, I don’t give him sex, he goes away again. (he’ll be back)

I started online dating on specific sites a couple of years ago, I either meet someone (eventually) who ends up being a bit weird (especially in person), we don’t have any chemistry (believe me I need to be attracted to someone to even consider a 3rd date) or I just get despondent for a year then try again.
Every time it goes the same way, wade through inappropriate messages, old fat bald men, verbal abuse if you don’t respond the way they want, lose hope, delete it, feel lonely, try again, get talking to someone who ‘seems’ normal, start to like them, meet them and then when they think you’re hooked, they tell you that they’re really married or live with their mum or have no job or are mentally screwed. Yay.

image
Truth!

Real life doesn’t seem to produce much in the way of opportunity, I might get a smile from a stranger but then he’s lost in the nothingness of sainsburys, just a mere hint of attraction…I might hit it off with someone on Facebook but the reality of the actual relationship with someone who spends their time on there seems to follow suit of them coming to rely on me, no job no hope no home no car… It’s too much strain on me, I can only handle a man that will bring his self sufficient ass to my table with a bag of spuds and a bottle of something instead of me scraping up another mouths worth of food out of my rent money funded daily dinners…I’m all for giving and loving but if it ain’t there to give its gonna break.

So yeah… I’ll keep on focusing on my kids, seems guys want mothering and I’ve got my hands full on that front!

Then…

Yesterday I was hungover, (the night before was a Christmas party with some lovely people, I even danced) I got up, was visited by a/the recurring ex boyfriend (the type that rock up a year after you tell them it’s never going to work, saying they’ve changed/matured/moved out/have a job/don’t just want sex etc) who wanted to ‘help’ me out with life, aww how sweet! Nope! It ended up being him wanting to leave his caravan on my garden and possibly stay in it, for a bit of money each month for 5 or so months. The whole time he was in my home it felt like there was a dark cloud towering over me at 6ft all gloomy and paranoid, telling of trouble he was in and how he was suffering. I was so meek and my caring side can’t see anyone unhappy, my 5ft frame and I reluctantly agreed, he left to fetch it, I started to clean and scrub my home (subconsciously getting rid of him) and the panic set in, I didn’t want him in my space, he makes me feel negative like one of those soul reavers, sucking my bounce and essence away, making comments about my things, telling me I’m the best mum he knows but then telling me I’m too soft, that I’m the nicest person he knows but I’m too nice, draining my positivity…I couldn’t cope with having him in my home for a couple of hours, no way could I let him invade my personal space daily, having control or feeling like he had control.

image
My dream is to be married to a wonderful man, before I’m 50!

It’s kind of scary how he thinks it’s ok to just turn up, after a year, apologise for his past behaviour from the last time he tried to make me his bitch and try and worm his way in my life.

Hopefully he gets it now.

No means no!

I’m a single mum, I am strong and I’m taking no shit! He arrived and I told him, “I can’t have you in my life, you make me feel negative and I need to protect my mental space.” He didn’t understand, thought he would be helping me. In his mind he would be, I’m ludicrous to refuse him and his help “vulnerable single mum” he called me, but all the money in the world wouldn’t stop me going mad in the head from feeling trapped with him popping in for water and electricity daily! His way of ‘imprinting’ on me?

I may appear vulnerable being on my own and struggling but believe me, I got this!
I am not easy prey!

I’m currently waiting for my man, a nice man who will want to support me in life and see me smile, nurture me and love me like I will do for him…

So yeah please exist!!

I will conclude this, I apologise for the details, for the rambling and tmi but I’m also not sorry, this is life!

I remain hopeful and you should too!

Thanks for reading!

*facepalms*

Depressing depression and the power of dance!

Depressing depression and the power of dance!

Depression.

Even reading it or saying it probably makes you go “urgg!”

Just give me a minute of your time, this won’t bring you down I promise. (if you’re a quick reader, make it 3 minutes if you aren’t )

It can strike anyone at anytime, it’s such a consuming feeling, in my experience I just want to shut off and sleep, I feel so hopeless that reaching out for help is an almost impossible task, you feel like a burden, a loser, like people don’t want to be around you anymore.

I’ve been to the doctors and they give you antidepressants right there, I know it can be or is in some cases a chemical imbalance but I don’t want to rely on pharmaceuticals.

When my father died nearly 8 years ago I gave in and took them, first fluxotine which made me sleep and feel numb like a zombie, then citralopram which didn’t do much different. I’m a single mum, I need to be ‘here’ so I battle it myself.

It’s a hard long road but I’m doing it, yes most days I want to go back to bed until I have the school run, and some days I do but on the others I force myself to be in the world, I take pleasure where I can get it, I make jokes and talk to people, try my hand at being creative. I found the gym was a great way to beat stress and it picked me up for a while, but gym partners come and go, people get sick or work demands change, I’d love to go on my own but that’s another anxiety story right there! I will go again, it keeps getting put off by life but it’s happening when all the components collide!

I’ll tell you what really works the best for me though, dancing! I don’t do it enough, just like anything in my life I find it hard to stick at things for long, but damn I love to dance, it’s the thing I’ve managed to keep hold of through the years because of my love for music. Now it normally happens at night when the kids are in bed or I’ll rope one of them in (usually my son as he loves any excuse to stay up for 5 minutes extra before sleep) and get a partner in my fun. I am fortunate to live in a detached house, so I can crank the music up and turn down the lights, flick on my disco ball and throw myself about like a wild thing! I love it, I enjoy the music and feeling free, lost in the rhythm, absorbed in the words, my whole body expressionate and loose. I try and dance non stop for at least half an hour and afterwards I feel invigorated hot (sweaty hot) and like I’ve achieved something, I FEEL GOOD!

See I don’t need to organise that, I can do it at anytime day or night on my own to any time frame.
If you can’t turn music up loud like me I’d suggest you put your headphones in and indulge in your favourite tracks, wildly or conservatively, any movement is good movement!

I’m lucky enough that one of my best friends loves dancing as much as I do! We go out every month or so (sometimes weeks if we are lucky) just to dance, our thing is soul and r’n’b but we throw our shapes to just about anything we can if we can’t find our soundtrack. We bounce around and don’t give a fuck who watches us, life is way too short to care! We went to a festival in the summer and worked out that we danced more than we slept! Just a constant flow of Jack Daniels and water keeps us going, (and the occasional snack) no drugs! I’m thinking we could do it sober too, it’s just the alcohol helps to get going and shut off from the starey wall flowers.

If you’re feeling down, sloth like and miserable, find a tune that makes you happy or that makes your little toe wiggle, focus on that movement and treat your toe (or if you’re able, your whole body) to a dance!

I found some sciencey stuff on the benefits of dancing here http://www.aarp.org/health/fitness/info-03-2011/dance-for-health.html it basically says that dancing boosts mood, is a cardiovascular workout and good for bone strengthening as well as the only activity that seems to prevent dementia!

I intend to dance myself fit and lose some bloody misery weight while preventing dementia!
But the best reason I’ll do it is because I am starting to love me more, and I want to take me out dancing. I deserve a good time!

You do too!

Thanks for reading, even if it was more than 3 minutes.

EODM and the Paris attacks, my personal account.

EODM and the Paris attacks, my personal account.

I’ve been a fan of this until recently, relatively unknown band of sexy rockers for a few years now, I discovered them through my hero and music God  Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age, Them Crooked Vultures etc) they absolutely boneshakingly rock with a great sense of humour and fun. Quite different from their name they don’t play death metal at all, Josh Homme has described it as “bluegrass slide guitar mixed with stripper drum beats and Canned Heat vocals.”

See for yourself in the link below.

EODM’s video for complexity

Here is the story of why they’re called The Eagles of Death Metal Where did the name come from? That should clear that up!

I had really wanted to see them for some time and when they announced a uk tour I was there! I bought my ticket and knew it would be a great night even if I didn’t have anyone to go with. They’re the kind of band that have awesome friendly like minded, loving, out for a good time fans, like me. I’m lucky enough to be a member of an amazing group of friends and fans of all things QOTSA and through this group I found two very kind souls Maria and Pat who offered to let me crash at their house and go to the concert with them, they didn’t know me but they welcomed me into their home and I was so touched by that gesture.

image
A picture I took of the EODM boys rocking out (one of a few as I was enjoying it too much)

So, at the beginning of this month, I was at an Eagles of Death Metal concert in Southampton with a room full of wonderful people, my kin, we were having a great time, I mean a REALLY great time! The band were rocking us hard, their fast tempo sexy rock was moving us and grooving us, we were all dancing and singing along, a little high/drunk/happy on life… I felt like I belonged with these people, that’s the thing about EODM’s fans. Even the ones I haven’t met are friends to me.

image
Jesse Hughes, a sweet souled front man who has such a great connection with his fans

9 days later on the 13th November EODM were rocking a crowd in France, just like they do, heartfelt and energetically. I don’t watch the news so I didn’t know what was happening until I went onto Facebook and saw a very worrying post on Maria’s profile from her and Pat’s son  Patrick, he was worried about his parents, after about a minute it became clear that they were there at the Paris gig. My family and friends and myself in the QOTSA group were all sick with worry feeling helpless for our friends and their children. We finally found out they were safe but that their mates had been shot and that people were being killed, beautiful young souls being taken, we were desperate to hear if the band were ok, hoping not to hear of any more deaths.

image
The crest of the QOTSA Family, only a few original members have their own pin (drink wine and screw is a QOTSA lyric)

It really shook the world, as it would but it hit home to me and my music kin just how close to home it was, this was our band, many had met them, knew they were decent and kind, so many of us have been to lots of gigs, only the week before I was at one of their concerts, Maria and Pat had gone to the back, networking with many friends they’d met before, they’d seen EODM about 60 times (I’m not sure of the exact number) and I was glued to the front left, My first time seeing them, I took my place on the barrier at the front and didn’t move (accept for vigorous butt shaking and kiss blowing to the band) till the end.

Thank goodness that they stayed front left in Paris, gunmen came in from the rear and they would’ve been hit. We found out later that they ventured back into the venue to help their friend Brian who had been crushed in the rush to the exit. They insist it’s nothing and that anyone would’ve done it, but in panic the fight or flight instinct of many would’ve made them run and never look back.

I have only met Maria and Pat once but they are genuinely the nicest people you could wish to meet, they fed me, offered me drinks all the time, paid for the taxis (poor jobless single mum that I am I only had whiskey to offer) made sure I was comfortable and had everything I needed to stay there at their house and got up early to take me to the boat. I fell in love with the pair of them for they are decent souls and from that night I felt relaxed and like I was with real family.

image
Maria and Pat, the real Queen and King of Rock and Roll

I speak for my brothers and sisters in my music family when I say that they are heroes, known to many as Mother Superior and Mother Superior’s husband! They have seen EODM and QOTSA over 150 times collectively (not an exact number) and followed the Sisters of Mercy for years.

We heard of other attacks in Paris as well as the Bataclan, the death toll was rising, we wept for our lost humans, even the survivors if physically unharmed would suffer the trauma mentally for years to come. What an awful sick thing to do to people, who could do this and why?! I just don’t understand how and why innocents are the victims of war.

The whole time this was going on one of our QOTSA family members was putting call outs to members that were or could’ve been there, it was a very tense 48 hours wait to make sure everyone was accounted for.

Once our friends were home and the injured members were doing ok and family safe, we wondered how the band would take the loss of their fans, we know they are genuine sweet people who would’ve been hit hard by this.

Our fears were that they would break down, give up, cancel tours, who could blame them really? We waited on tenterhooks to find out how they were, all of us wanted them to know we loved them and supported them, fans from around the world were sending love and showing them how much they meant to them.

Vice released a trailer for an interview, it seemed to be quite a sick move, using the band to ‘tease’ when all we wanted was to hear from them ourselves.

The vice interview

The interview is quite harrowing to watch, those big tough rock stars that we love so obviously shaken to their core, but remaining positive and vowing to finish the Bataclan gig. It made me cry when I watched it.

“I want to be the first band to play in the Bataclan when it opens back up, because I was there when it went silent for a minute..our friends went there to see rock n roll and died, I’m gonna go back there and live.” – Jesse Hughes

My heart goes out to all lives lost, their families and friends, all those affected in anyway. I can’t do much at all but send my love so I wrote a poem (that’s just what I do.)

I wrote this originally in Maria Moore’s Facebook post where she said that they were going to le Bataclan to lay flowers at 5pm the day after, it’s my way of expressing my feelings and love to the lost brothers and sisters ❤️ if I couldve been there to pay my respects I would be ✌🏻️❤️

image
Photo courtesy of Maria Moore, taken at The Bataclan and simply titled “Peace, Love, Death Metal”

EODM FAMILY
Blow a kiss for me
To all the beautiful souls
That lost their lives while
Being serenaded
By Boots
In a happy bouncing
Moment
With looks of love and joy In their eyes
Blissfully unaware
Unified by the music
The music that brings us all Together
Rocking out
All the way out
Our friends
We didn’t get to know you
But we love you
Every one

Gone
But never ever
Forgotten
PEACE
LOVE
DEATH METAL
❤️✌🏻️❤️🤘🏻❤️

I am proud to be a fan. Thank you for reading.

Music the lifeblood of my soul

Music the lifeblood of my soul

Glorious

image
One of beloved late father’s teenage vinyl, it feels very special to share it loudly

Ok, now most people that know me know that occasionally I’ll peep out of the woodwork with a box of delicious vinyl and dance about for a few hours while playing them probably too loudly to a room of music loving people. I love it, it’s my hobby, I bring a mixture of my late fathers teenage years (60’s soul, blues and r’n’b) and my recently acquired (when I can spare the money) heart throbbing tunes and very much enjoy sharing them.

Dj’ing is my passion, I used to do it more regularly and always wanted a residency in a cool little club, I achieved that, in a small but perfectly formed cocktail bar, it was full of cool touches, young beautiful bar people and it even had the toilet area set out like the London Underground, platform announcers and all.

image
Me Dj’ing so hard I’m a blur! 

Unfortunately the reality of the pressures of having a constantly poorly teenage daughter and a full of energy young boy and being an assistant manager for a well known organisation that was sending me to London training was way way too much of a commitment for me to have any spare time energy. The thought of being on my feet all day at work or travelling all day on boats that were making me sea sick then sorting the kids and packing up my decks, boxes full of heavy vinyl, lugging it all to the bar and unpacking, setting up then standing there all dolled up on my own, sober, playing from 9-whenever the bar shut while humouring drunken comments and not screaming “FUCK OFF LEAVE ME ALONE!” While worrying about what my teen was getting up to and if she was ok, knowing that she’d been missing me all day and just wanting to be with her, ending up in hospital with her she got so sick, hoping my son was having a nice time at his dad’s despite crying to me that he didn’t want to go, just didn’t appeal to me. Well it just took too much out of me, hell work took too much out of me and I was exhausted, my kids needed me for their mental health.

So I only really come out of my hiding place once or twice a year and suffer heavy anxiety when I do, for about a week before I’m freaking out, on the day my chest feels like it’s going to explode, but then, once I get past the blind panic and lay that needle on the crackly vinyl, I feel joy, euphoria, the music springs me to life and I start to unashamedly boogie, I sing along and I don’t care who can see me, I want them to see me, I want them to feel so comfortable with me and the music that they come and join me, and they do, granted it takes a few drinks for most but once one person is up they’re all up, we swap smiles, they gush to me about the record, how much they love it, give me the thumbs up and I know what I’m going to play next, it’s a musical journey that makes me feel alive and purposeful, I forget all my worries and we are united in dance and feel good vibes.

Music does that to me, it sends me to a happier place, whether it’s Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh ‘baby duck’ Homme making me feel like a sexy badass, Led Zeppelin giving me the chills as I’m screaming along in heartfelt abandon with Robert Plant, dancing around like a crazy sex kitten to the Eagles of Death Metal, hotline bringing it with my kids and Drake, moaning out the fast paced blues with Cream, I could go on, I won’t, I do that too much haha!

image
Queens of the Stone Age move my soul

I’ll always have my music, WE will always have music, one of my closest friends was really suffering with depression, I tried to help her by being there and then it occurred to me to gift her with music, I burned her a couple of CDs, one was Sam and Dave’s greatest hits (sweet soothing soul) and the other was a self put together playlist of happy bouncing singalong soul and funk.

image
Sam and Dave the saviours of souls

The change in her was fantastic, she was bouncing off the walls with joy and we shared so many laughs while serenading each other in song, it was such a great time for both of us, she would send me funny messages telling me how she loved Sam one day and Dave the next, I was so damn pleased I could help her!

So to my point, music is the lifeblood of my soul, your soul, don’t trust someone who doesn’t listen to music, they are either a robot or a lizard, or maybe a lizard robot!

Spread some joy today with the gift of a heartfelt song, you might just save someone’s soul!

I thank you for reading!

 

The Imperfectionist

This is me, I’m my harshest critic, nobody is a tough on me as I am, I am THE PERFECTIONIST! If this is you too then read this article, it rang some bells for me, I have to really harness my inner critic to be able to do things, everyday things and especially things like this blog, it took all the courage in the world for me and every minute I’m battling the shame and embarrassment of putting it out there and wanting to take it down, but I need this, I need to be heard, I need to be out there in the world. Anyway, give it a looky look, it’s an interesting read.

*****************************

You know those childhood memories that are burned so deep you can remember the shirt you were wearing, or the way the grass smelled? I’ve got a few: The Time I Fell Off My Bike Riding With No Hands…

Source: The Imperfectionist

Is poetry still cool or do you have to brave it and slam it out verbally?

Is poetry still cool or do you have to brave it and slam it out verbally?

I write poetry, there I said it, feels kind of cringe when I put it out there, poetry seems so old fashioned and a bit ‘square/lame’ maybe I’m a song writer who doesn’t know how to write songs? Maybe if I just stood up and braved anxiety I could be a spoken word hero? Hmm I’ll just stick to babbling half rhymes in my mind and writing them in my iPhone notes, it’s what I have learnt in the last year or so that I’m good at.

Here! I’ll write one off the cuff now about…shoes?

My feet are small, my shoes are too

My goodness I want the big heels

Jewelled, decorated and glitzy

Feels so good you want the world to look at you

The uncomfortable glamour

Unable to walk in them like a normal human

but so beautiful I could gaze at them for hours

I am girly I am a shoe fan

Done, well I said I was good but I think I’ll just say it’s a passion, being good at something is when other people tell you I think? Hmm now that’s going to be another topic!

I have written some punching rants, I have thought about speaking them publicly to make them real, be relevant and cool like the ones I admire, but I just posted them on Facebook and gritted my teeth the whole time they were in the feeds of others. That’s not how to do it now is it? I guess I’ll be posting them here (joy for you) until I get a miracle boost of confidence and appear at a spoken word night, probably full of whiskey as that definitely equals confidence, you should see me on a Saturday night dancing to know that. Maybe no one should see that haha!

I guess poetry is a very personal thing, you either like it or love it or have no feelings about it, the subject matter of each one will determine how its received. Maybe it’s just me that’s thinking its old fashioned?

What do you think?

Image taken from http://www.rontranmer.com/ check him out!