daily – John Lee Taggart

June 14, 2015June 14, 2015

Strange Sunday!

Sunday should be a time for relaxation, a time to unwind with family and friends. put your feet up with a cup of tea and just chill out (all the while trying to forget you have work on Monday). Well this particular Sunday had all of these promising traits; I’d had a significant lie in, had a greasy brunch, chatted with family and piled enough carbohydrates in my body to run a marathon (naturally I didn’t do this, instead I took a nap even Snorlax would be proud of). Sounds perfect? Well it was. But what came after dinner shook my whole Sunday out of sync…

…as I fell out of my favourite Chinese restaurant clutching at my (now) spherical stomach, I saw three men sprinting at full speed towards me – one guy in a police/security/mall cop/traffic warden/YMCA outfit, another lazy Sunday clothes similar to what I was in…of course I just stood there like a rabbit in headlights – as usual you think about doing something, but the fear of tackling the wrong guy and then being labelled a massive dick by the local press freezes you to the spot. So yeah, I just stood there still clutching at my bump (but still thinking about dessert), as they advanced closer and closer. Perhaps this gross image freaked them out a little, as instead of running past me they darted into the Chinese restaurant instead! What came next was better than anything I’ve ever seen on Sunday afternoon telly…

As the three burst into the restaurant, it became immediately obvious which one was the antagonist between the three…it was the lanky, slightly more dishevelled one, who happened to have foam coming out of the sides of his mouth (no, this wasn’t obvious straight away! I was taught not to judge a book by it’s cover! Humph!) – anyway, so he started raving and screaming at the other two, as bewildered diners looked on or ignored him completely in favour of their noodles. It seemed he took exception to this; he demanded the stage, Godddamnit! So as the other two edged closer he grabbed a beer bottle from an unsuspecting pensioner’s table and smashed it to smithereens, leaving only a jagged shard in his hand as a make shift weapon – cue shrieks and wild “oh my GAAAAAD” hands from the entire population of the restaurant.

By the way, yes – I had a fantastic view from outside…and had decided on triple choc chip ice cream for dessert once the show was over.

Well anyway, as the crazed character (let’s call him Bobby) edged around the perimeter of the restaurant, he was met with more screams as he waved around the shard of glass defiantly in the air…I wasn’t sure what Bobby’s game plan was from here on in, but I was thrilled to be a spectator of this great escape…well, apparently his would-be captors weren’t quite as confident in Bobby’s abilities as I was, as they continued to advance on him…slowly but surely…

So, to increase the terror level to 11, Bobby decided to shift gears; try something different, it was do or die, fight or flight – it was a crazy plan, granted – but sometimes the crazy plans can provide new hope! (I’m not trying to relate this to Star Wars, this was of course nothing like Star Wars) As the cautious faux comforting arms got within reaching distance of Bobby, he grabbed for another larger bottle and smashed it again (cue more shrieks and hand waves of course), but this time placed the glass shard to his cheek, threatening to cut should anyone come any closer – I know, right? Bold strategy Bobby!

It was then that I wondered if I would get chocolate sauce on the triple choc ice cream, or was triple choc ice cream chocolatey enough without it?

This thought was interrupted when I saw Bobby, who was not getting the response he hoped for, held the glass a millimeter from his eye ball – this seemed to do the trick as people gave a resounding “whoa, whoa, whoaaa” as if Bobby was some kind of overzealous horse, it was this break that Bobby was looking for – so as soon as he spotted a gap he darted over tables and raced for the door. – only to be met with the heartbreak of some party pooper holding it closed from the outside (not me, obviously – I would never do that to Bobby), as he turned around in disappointment he held the glass to his cheek once more, but I could tell his heart wasn’t really in it this time, and he was subjected him to an involuntary five man game of pile on, until he dropped his make-shift weapon.

After seeing his defeat I continued my wander home. Later I was told it was pretty “normal” behaviour in Korea (using the term “normal” very loosely here of course), when a person has their backs well and truly up against the wall it is thought to be just mental enough to work…so much so that it is often parodied and satirized in Korean dramas!

Well that was my story from last Sunday…if you take anything away from this it should be this – there’s no such thing as too much chocolate, not on a Sunday anyway.

p.s. FREE BOBBY.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

May 15, 2015

A Day of Feelings

I have realised that we go through various feelings in any given day…at least I do…it’s very rare I have a completely ecstatically joyful day, or a terribly woeful one. There are patches that trip me up, and situations that most certainly help raise a smile…

…let’s have a little look at a few of them, shall we?

1. When you have to battle to drag yourself out of bed in the morning…one side of you knows you should – the other half doesn’t care! But jobs, and bills, and rent – and all that – urgh.

2. When something doesn’t quite work out the way you wanted…the first sign of a not so perfect day…frustrating to say the least – can’t I just go back to bed and not deal with anything?!

3. When dealing with your first inexplicable idiot of the day…take a deep breath – in, out, in out…now drop the hammer you’re holding and keep walking.

4. When something goes right for you, and you feel more self-confident than Jedi Obama…

5. When the hunger pains set in…and no one is safe – NO ONE! Am I hungry because I’m bored, or bored because I’m hungry? I can’t remember…BUT GIMME THAT!

6. When your boss asks you to work late…you may smile brightly, and say “sure no problem!” But really you are thinking…

7. When you finally get out of work, and your time is now completely your own…you can do anything…the world is yours!

8. But…then you fall in love with a stranger on the commute home…

Nevermind, there’s always tomorrow…

Well that’s my lot! Did I miss any important ones? Let me know!

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

December 29, 2014December 29, 2014

Sexy Back

I’ve been having trouble with my back this past year – which has made me feel like a complete Grandad, constantly twisting, clicking, and moaning on…I thought it would be a good idea to get it checked out by a doctor in England in the short window that I was on home-ground. You know, to see if anything was really amiss, or if I was just whining unnecessarily!

So I had to set up an appointment, but wasn’t really sure how to go about it…I know you can just Google these things but for some reason it didn’t cross my mind…I just rolled in unannounced and thought the nice people at the reception would probably help me out;

“Errr…hi…hello, hi. I’d like an appointment please…”

“Alright, what’s the problem?”

Now I found this odd. Maybe it’s just me! But what if it was something really personal, something I really didn’t want to share with the rest of the waiting room? A like…ball related thing, or like a penisey problem, or whatever. I probably wouldn’t want a load of strangers hearing about all that!

“It’s like a weird back thing…it’s like, sorry…it’s…”

“A weird back?”

“Yeah…I don’t know – it aches, I just wanted to check if it was-“

“You wanted to know from a professional if it is weird, or not?”

“Ergh, yes. I suppose so.”

“Ah…ha…”

And so after a condescending few minutes, I was given my appointment time – and bid her good day. I returned a week later…although funnily enough I hadn’t been having much to complain about. My back had been relatively well behaved. Now I would look like a big fat liar! Despite this I didn’t want to end up looking like a fool at the reception again, so kept going over the name of the doctor over, and over, and over – so that I wouldn’t be caught out!

“Hello! I have an appointment at 9:20.”

“Okay, what’s your name?”

“Doctor Foo.”

“No…what is YOUR name?”

“Err…my…errr…” Now this really threw me, I was racking my brains for what seemed like forever, why did she have to ask me such a difficult question?! I felt like this was the final question on Who Wants To Be a Millionaire? I was never going to get it right! Only a genius would!

“Err…it’s…John. John…Taggart!” Phew, got there. I took my seat with reddened cheeks, and an expression that clearly spelled out how ashamed I was.

I waited a while, trying not to make eye contact with people – and also trying to subtly block the sputtering coughs from the contagious man next to me. But I didn’t have to sit for long, and was soon shepherded through by a beeping machine, announcing my name in red – and informing me of which room I had to go to. Room 7.

I walked in unsure whether to do a handshake, after all I may have hand-plague…or something…or do doctors wear gloves for that very reason? Hmm…not sure. Anyway, he didn’t offer it, so I decided against it. Instead I just sat, as he quizzed me on this, and that. After the interrogation he told me to roll up my jumper – which made for an awkward scene, me standing with a self-made belly top, as he massaged, and prodded my knobbly joints!

He came to three conclusions, a trifecta of back ache horror, if you will. It wasn’t due to my flat feet, as I had guessed (I have feet like Donald Duck) instead it is down to working with small children – always leaning, and bending down to speak to them – like the BFG. Then there is the fact that I am always writing, and I probably slouch into my laptop when I do…then there is the fact that I am a tallish person in Asia…so I have to stoop somewhat to get a clear view of things, as “it’s not designed with John size in mind” as Dr Foo boldly announced!

After all that we shared some stories about China, and Korea, which was nice – I then thanked him for his time, and bounced back home – paying special attention to my posture, asI had just endured quite a telling off!

At least I can head back to South Korea with peace of mind! Mind…the long flights always give me a sore bum…perhaps I should have got Dr Foo to check that for me too…

On second thought, I think I’m fine.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

November 24, 2014November 24, 2014

5 Things That Define Me.

I got an email out of the blue recently, with a rather intriguing question – the person wanted to remain anonymous (which is fair enough!), but said they were more than happy with me answering publicly on a blog post!

The question was a lot longer, but in essence boiled down to – “what are five things that you feel defines you as a person?” Now, I’ll admit it took me a while…but after some soul-searching, and head scratching, I think I have a roughly formed answer…so, here goes…

1. Sense of Humour:

This may be an obvious one to most, but I feel that my sense of humour best defines who I am…it’s in lots of ways my coping mechanism in awkward situations (that old stereotype), but in others I feel it serves to simply make my outlook brighter – as by making others laugh, as well as myself – it boosts my overall state of mind…and makes me feel healthier, and happier in the process. Naturally this site has taken that to the next level, and has worked wonders.

Wasn’t going to say this – but whatever – as someone who has secretly felt deeply depressed, and on the brink of bi-polar disorder the past couple of years…my sense of humour has provided that light at the end of the tunnel.

Think of all of my stories, without any of the humour…they would just be inane ramblings about how fucked up, and horrible the world is, right? They would be just post after post, of how miserable I find my existence.Well, that was me, I’m embarrassed to say…so I guess I am starting things by saying thank you.

Anyway, back to the jokes, here’s the next one:

2. Fashion Sense:

I’m not saying I am a diva, or anything of the sort! I don’t even follow trends for the most part, I just know what I like, and I like what I wear! It wasn’t always that way…Linkin Park hoody here…shaven head there…but after a few years of copying styles, and trying to fit in…I am finally at a point where I just don’t give a shit about all that.

Still wish I had more money so I could splash out a lot more, but for now I just have to Gok Wan it, by switching around stuff to make “fabulous” outfits. And yeah…I do like shopping…if that’s weird, then so be it, man!

3. Love of Food:

Listen – I tried the whole healthy eating thing, I kinda still go to the gym (ish), but I just can’t deny the bond I have with food. I’ve tried, and I’ve failed. What can I say? I can’t live without it!

It must be love…as my old Grandmother used to say every time she was feeding me, “It’s like stuffing a bloody couch with you!” But then again, if I ever declined food she said I was, “turning into one of those anorexics!”

So hmm…couldn’t ever win. Whatever the reason, food is my soul-mate…my BFF.

4. Hip-Hop:

Yeah, I get that look a lot. But music is a big part of my life, and although I love a whole host of stuff from other genres (your favorite artists included, perhaps!) Nothing has touched my soul like hip-hop has…and no, not so much the, bling-bling, yo-yo-yo, etc, etc, type (that’s my parent’s perception of it largely!) But instead I am talking about the early Outkast stuff, Talib Kweli, The Roots…Big KRIT…and so many more, clever wordsmiths, who touch on so many issues, and subjects the world can resonate with…if they just listen...all with a sense of humour and wit, without making the song “jokey”, or cheesey…they speak of a desire for something greater, about the work-ethic required to get there – and how true happiness has to be the goal to feel accomplished. There isn’t anything else like it, for me.

Oh, and yeah I did once think I would be a rapper (in my head only), but I then had a re-think, once I considered the fact you’d have to go up on stage…and in front of people…and…all that…MC RedCheekz…DJ Purrz-Piration…

Don’t really have a ring to it…oh well.

5. My Mind:

So much of the human condition in itself is lived through our minds…that in itself, is fascinating to me. I just love the thought of everyone having this rare, and intricately unique tale to tell…and everyone having their own personal view-finder for the life they live. I live in my head, as I am sure lots of people do – thinking through just about everything, and every variation of every subject that pops up in there…my head is basically like a computer with a virus…except I am not sending in Norton any time soon…I am just doing my best to make sense of the pop-ups.

The novel I am writing at the moment, explores this to the extreme…through the view of a deeply disturbed character. His actions, and his life itself blurs into each other – which has me intrigued…as when I consider this…so does my own.

What about you then? Which 5 things define you? Have a little think – and let me know! Thanks again for the question…really made me think!

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

November 12, 2014November 23, 2014

Maddening Meatballs

Are you sitting down? Because, you certainly need to be seated for this…as what follows here, may be the most excruciatingly painful bit of news you will here for some time…a horrendous event that has certainly scarred me for life, and has depressed me to no end.

So it all started off relatively normal, I was hungry…which is always a vulnerable state to be in…you fall for marketing ploys more easily, and the lovely smells start to take on that cartoonish effect – where they basically carry you into the nearest restaurant! I wanted something quick, as I had places to go, people to see. So thought I couldn’t go wrong with good ol’ Subway. With being in Korea, I thought it would be a rare taste of the staple Western cuisine we all know, and love…this has been true throughout the world for me – actually I remember at the foot of The Great Wall of China, there was a Subway…and I held up the whole tour group (accidentally), when I decided I shouldn’t miss the chance to snag a foot long sandwich…I didn’t expect them to wait for me…but they did…so I had to endure the rest of the walk up there with jealous faces staring at me, as sauce ran down my face…

Anyway, I just got sidetracked, sorry…so yeah, I walked into the Subway, and was ecstatic to find that the meatball sub had some kind of special set menu deal thing going on…like a lunch time offer I guess. This was great news, because then I could tell myself that I did really well, that I was saving money, I was being a thrifty so-and-so, and that the money I hadn’t spent – could now be put towards something more productive…or even charity…yeah! It’s lucky I actually decided to come here, good for me…and more so, good for the WORLD!

So there I was waiting in line, planning out which veggies I may put in this, soon to be Nobel Peace Prize winning sandwich. And as I was doing so, I noticed the guy in front of me was ordering three foot long sandwiches…THREE! I would be amazed if they were all for himself, but it’s highly likely he is bringing them for some of his pals in the office…man, I wish I was his friend…that’s a true friend. Throwing you a sandwich, and giving the nod that says; no big deal (even though you BOTH know this is love of the highest kind). Or perhaps even leaving it by their computer with a little post-it note…slightly more sentimental…you could be like, “I love you thiiiiiis much!” Because…foot-long…foot is a measurement…and…alright, that’s only good advice, if you want to be the office weirdo. Apologies.

It was soon my turn, so I snapped out of my usual daydreams, and ordered what I wanted by a mixture of terrible Korean, English, and vividly illustrious pointing. I am a really good pointer…pointing is good in every culture, every country…smile, and point…smile, and point. Sounds like a workout DVD…but seriously, it WORKS.

“Aaaaahhhh! Meatuh-bol?” YES! She understood! We were in business! Once again the handy old index finger had came in…err…handy…anyway, I watched as she pulled out the bread, I couldn’t help but lick my lips in anticipation…she then cut it in half, and I nodded, almost like I was greeting it…she then opened up the metal tray for the meatballs – so far so good, nothing amiss!

AND THEN THE WORLD WENT TOPSY-TURVY – STARK, RAVING MAD. PIGS WERE FLYING, I REPEAT – PIGS WERE FLYING.

I did think it was weird she put her hands in the tray…not a scoop, or a spoon…but I wanted to believe that it couldn’t be true. But before I knew it, I could no longer keep lying to myself. She pulled out a few rotten grey, grandpa testicle lookin’ balls, and threw them on the bed…I did one of those mini sick in your mouth things, but held myself together. I began to wonder what parallel universe I had wandered into…what version of hell is this?! The balls were so sad there on the bread, so alone…they were crying out for some marinara sauce…they were screaming, pleading with me…but there was nothing I could do, there was glass between us – it was as if they were on death-row, and I was coming to visit them one last time. But then the prison warden, the sick bastard she was…went, and made it about three hundred times worse…this must be how she gets her kicks…she picked up a mysterious bottle…everything began moving in slow motion…as she squirted lashings of ketchup across the balls, over, and over, and over again…drowning them into oblivion…

…this was served to me with a grin…a cruel, cruel grin…as she held it out to me…“Meatuh-bol!”

I gazed longingly at the poster next to me…it had been so full of promise – now all I have is a soggy ketchup testicle bun. The horror, THE HORROR! I cried bitterly as I ate it…and spent the rest of the afternoon skipping rocks across a lake, and thinking deep thoughts, about life…and why we are here…and how can there be a God if cruel things like this exist in the world?

I don’t know…it was just a lot to handle…I’m tearing up just re-living it…I have to go…

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

October 6, 2014

The Dangle Dance ~

There are always funny little things that are peppered along our daily lives, that when looked at retrospectively, are a little odd. Like when you are on a narrow path, and you do the little OH-AH-HAHA! OH-AH-HAHA! jig until one of you finally gets bored and let’s the other past, or when you are in a confined space and someone with blaring earphones in, begins to sing…and you just have to stare forward and pretend it isn’t happening, or when someone has a t-shirt on with a lot of interesting text…so, naturally you want to read it (maybe it has vital information on it!?) – but you look like a Creepbot 3000 and have to avert your eyes, or when…well, I have many more – but I don’t want to divulge too much, in case these tidbits of weirdness are things that I alone suffer with!

Man I am so awkward, apologies! No, don’t apologise…you don’t want to seem weak, why do you always do this to us?!! Say nothing…don’t be sorry, look tough, like you don’t really care what people think…they don’t have feelings…neither do you…that’s it, you are a rock, a human rock – eyes forward, less redness in the cheeks, red isn’t tough…don’t smile at all…why are tears forming? Keep it up…

Urgh. Well, safe to say, there are always little amusing interludes to the daily grind, whether they occur in our heads or outside of them is largely irrelevant! This is a story, a little like those I just mentioned…but way, way, way (a lot of ways, but I figure you get the picture already) worse. The dangle dance, as I have dubbed it, is a considerably more horrifying creature than those little occurrences could ever aspire to be…

It all happened when I was at the gym, the dreaded gym. It has became both an everyday feature of my existence, but also the bane of it. What a horrible paradox to encounter every day, especially when I insist on eating so much fried foods almost immediately after it…but it is usually meat, so err…protein energy, for the muscle growing-ness, of the…yeah, yeah I know, whatever.

Everyday I step in there, and unfortunately the personal trainer guy has taken to speaking to me – this usually happens at gyms, as most will know, they come up and want to pretend like they are just chatting to you, they’ll be all “did you see this movie?” or “John, you’re looking well!” and you reply you didn’t watch the movie, even though you did – and you know they are lying about you looking well, because you just sweated a swimming pool, and also you wonder how they know your name all of a sudden?! Because you know it isn’t really friendly, it is just pretend friendly…the massive elephant in the room is you – you are the big fat elephant, and this personal trainer is trying to grease you up with compliments, and friendly chat – so he can charge you a gazillion gold coins, in exchange for him screaming orders at you, “pick this up, put this down, don’t eat, pull this, stop being sick…” But you can’t just say, “FUCK OFF PLEASE, THANK YOU.” That would be terribly rude, so instead you are forced to engage in these tedious conversations, and you are pressured into creating new excuses every time as to why you won’t be taking him up on his offer. I thought I would be free from these shackles at a Korean gym…but oh no, the personal trainer can speak English! Yesterday I found myself spending 40 minutes on a treadmill, even though I hate any form of cardio exercise, just waiting till he moved from the main weights section. This is my life for the foreseeable future.

This wasn’t even supposed to be about that, guess I just had to get it off my chest…my big, fat, flabby, man-boob chest…maybe I should just sign up with him. NO, I AM A TOUGH HUMAN ROCK, GODDAMMIT!

On the day in question I had narrowly dodged Shaun the personal trainer, maybe I would get away one of those conversations today…I sure hoped so. I still had my headphones on, and my eyes glued to the floor when I entered the changing room – this had been my way in which to slip by largely unnoticed – as I turned the corner the usual smell of men’s changing rooms hit me like a shovel to the nostrils; a damp, sweaty odor – the scent of unwashed privates, layered with cheap deodorant.

If the morning coffee hadn’t woke me up, then this sure did the trick. It was so strong, my eyes began to weep…

With my head still down, I turned another narrow corner, and bumped into someone – the greasy shower sweat combination clung to my clean clothes, I nodded in the mandatory “it’s fine” fashion, and stepped to the right…he stepped to the right…I stepped to the left…he stepped to the left, I looked up and was met with a wrinkly old man – OH GOD DON’T MAKE A BIG DEAL OF THE PENIS SITUATION – I smiled my best, and most convincing fake smile, as if I wasn’t freaked out, or mortified – and politely stepped to the right, but he went the same way again…argh! Left again, nope he stepped left again! When would this stop?! He chuckled, as I accidentally caught sight of the…errr…thing again…maybe this was a perverse joy for him, maybe he was waiting around the corner and he gets his kicks from it. I laughed, but looked to the distance so there was no way I would be able to sneak a glimpse of his grey testicles again, we did the little dangle dance once more before I pushed past him…there is only so much a person you can take – if we went by his rules we would be there doing a little penis cha-cha for the rest of the day.

On a totally unrelated side note – his grandfather cock, got me thinking about grandfather clocks…is that where they get their name from? Did a clock-maker have a similar run in like this, and it gave him a rather fruity idea? Because so far, that makes a lot of sense to me…no? Hmm…alright.

Like this story? Then why not like the Facebook page?http://www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn YOU KNOW IT MAKES SENSE!

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: