Five Years After Lockdown
London went dead.
No boozers.
No gigs.
No barbers.
Screens glued to faces.
Hair wild.
Silence. Ghost town.
We came back.
Pubs rammed.
Gigs sold out.
Trains late.
Fear sticks.
Cough on the tube — instant flinch.
Survival? Brutal.
Clap on doorsteps.
Netflix binges.
Zoom hell.
Shaggy heads.
Scruffy beards.
Drink. Faith. TikTok.
Families broke. Rebuilt.
Communities pulled. Fell apart.
Real resilience.
Lockdown fashion? Accidental.
Sweatpants armour.
Messy...
MY BLOG IS MY LIFE, MAKE IT INTERESTING! AND INFORM AND HELP PEOPLE
Hope you like my rendition of the TWAT
I first met John at the funeral of the great train robber Bruce Richard Reynolds. A strange setting, maybe, but it showed me the circles this man’s words travelled in — across poets, rebels, dreamers and outlaws. I spoke with him a couple of times after that, and what struck me most was his genuine, down-to-earth northernness. No airs, no pretence,...
Seventeen, Out on Bail!
Seventeen. Out on bail in Warrington for theft I didn’t commit—but that’s another story.
Curfew hanging over me. Supposed to be home by 7pm. I didn’t care. I wanted freedom. I wanted the world. Flight paid. Fuck it. I wanted bigger than my street. Bigger than Warrington pubs.
So I blagged it. I flew to Canada. First plane journey. First taste of life outside Europe.
Three weeks in Edmonton. Walking the streets like I belonged. My...
Under Irish Management
The Stewart Arms W11, a fantastic women-run pub, thrives under the management of Shauna and her mum Tina, alongside their brilliant bar staff, Tina, Sophie, Emma, and Oli, the friendly doorman. They keep the toilets sparkling and the beer pipes in top-notch condition.
Micky P will host his Portobello Live at the Stewart every Wednesday night, bringing vibrant energy to the area and guaranteeing a great time.
It will be great to see more promoters looking to...
Flash Fiction Friday: The Night I Escaped Sean
Prologue
In the middle of Shepherd's Bush Green, the sweet smell of candy floss mingled with the hum of generators.
It was the annual fair, a fleeting escape from the dull routine of everyday life. Amid neon lights and swirling crowds, a young boy stood still, lost in thought.
Trigger Warning!
1980
We loaded the Dodgem cars onto enormous red lorries. Grease coated our hands, mixing with the sharp scent of oil and petrol. Sweat slid down my back, and...
Our Anthony’s Fight: Facing Cancer with Guts and Love
I’m sitting here, heart in bits, trying to describe what my little brother Anthony’s going through. He’s always been “our kid” to us in Warrington—the one who made us all laugh and lit up every room with his character and non-stop jokes.
For 18 years, he built a cracking life in Dubai—glitzy towers, mad construction jobs, the lot. He loved it there, even though he missed his five kids like mad. But early this year, 2025, life threw him a...
Have you ever wondered about switching paths and chasing a new dream? My journey shows that it’s never too late to embrace your passions.
I arrived in London in the 1980s as a bricklayer in the bustling construction world. That was my life before travelling music and crime took over. But in 2017, I took a leap into creative writing, and now I’m studying for a BA in Creative Writing at...
Flash Fiction Friday
"Kept Man"
Lady Helen Walton sneered, her clipped accent dripping with venom. She’d once had a fling with the notorious gangster Curtis ‘Cocky’ Warren, who introduced her to drugs, and she’d had a soft spot for the lower orders ever since.
“Yah, I should never have married you,” she spat, her tone thick with disdain. “We both know why I did: my family’s money. You were a bum, barely scraping by, when I plucked you from that incestuous...
Behind the Green Door: Inside Chelsea Arts Club, London
Walk down Old Church Street in Chelsea, London, and you might miss it: a plain green door, quiet and unmarked. No plaque, no neon sign. Yet push it open, and you enter the Chelsea Arts Club — one of London’s last true bohemian sanctuaries, a private members’ club where art, laughter, and mischief have thrived since 1891.
A Living Stage in Chelsea
The bar hits first — a surge of sound, laughter, and overlapping conversations. The walls are a...
Flash Fiction Friday: The Lady Boys
I came out of the hedonistic ’90s with a degree in history and politics, straight from Liverpool, only to land in London as a showbiz reporter. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Instead of using my degree, I sank into the city’s excess. Drugs were everywhere, and I didn’t say no.
The endless nights wore me thin. Once, I thrived as the life of every party, men competing for my attention. But I didn’t want one-night stands. Friends said I looked like Rhona Mitra,...
I’m proud to say I’ve had three books published with New Haven Publishing Ltd: Nightmare in Jamaica, Notting Hill Ponces, and a biography of fashion designer Ossie Clark. If you’re curious, you can find them all at www.newhavenpublishingltd.com.
New Haven is a fascinating company in its own right. It was started in 2012 by Norwegian-born author and music journalist Teddie Dahlin, and in just over a decade, it’s grown into a genuine national independent publisher. Based in the UK but trading...
Step into the streets of Liverpool, where whispers of a towering figure ripple through the air, sparking curiosity and unease. Meet Akinwale Oluwafolajimi Oluwatope Arobieke, better known as Purple Aki, a man whose name has become synonymous with mystery, controversy, and urban folklore in the UK. Born on 15 July 1961 in Crumpsall, Lancashire, this 6-foot-5, 22-stone bodybuilder commands attention with his...
Shirtless Passenger Smashes Window
A shirtless man kicked out a Tube window at Euston Station, climbed through the glass, swore at staff, and walked away as stunned commuters watched.
Social media reacted with outrage and disbelief. Some criticised the act; others blamed heat and cramped conditions.
British Transport Police are investigating!
Lol! I know the feeling. If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen x
ttps://...
https://www.mcmullens.co.uk/local-pub/duke-of-york/
Soho Bastards
Where creativity meets good company — and the occasional bad idea
Something special happens at the Duke of York in Fitzrovia every first Saturday afternoon of the month. Musician David Palfreyman and film director Alan G. Parker dreamed up Soho Bastards to bring together a curious mix of musicians, writers, and media folk.
It’s not some formal networking gig — far from it. It’s a chance to...
Discover The Duke of York Pub, Fitzrovia’s Timeless Treasure!
Step into The Duke of York at 47 Rathbone Street, Fitzrovia, London, W1T 1NW, and immerse yourself in a vibrant slice of London’s history. This iconic Victorian pub, first established in 1767 and reborn in 1897, stands proudly on the corner of Rathbone Street and Charlotte Place, its 1791 cornerstone beckoning you inside. Now thriving under McMullen’s stewardship since June 2025, this gem delivers an unforgettable, quintessentially...
From Alcoholism to Africa – The Remarkable Journey of John Cartledge
Every so often, a book comes along that grips you from the very first page and refuses to let go. From Alcoholism to Africa by John Cartledge is one of those books. I read it in just a couple of hours, completely absorbed in his raw, unfiltered life story.
John takes us from his childhood in Warrington through three decades of alcohol addiction a road strewn with prison sentences, rehab...
Prologue
In the shadowed streets of urban sprawl, deception weaves its intricate web. A cunning scam, known as "Twining" or "Ringing the Changes," thrives in whispers across the country. Its origins are murky, its practitioners elusive—ghosts gliding through time for millennia. With nimble fingers and silver tongues, these con artists dance between truth and lies, from the ancient cities of the East to the gritty streets of wartime London.
From Rags to Riches and Back
...
I had the pleasure of working with John Cartledge, or Johnny as we called him, back in my bricklaying days in London. This was after he’d kicked his drinking habit. Johnny had a wild sense of humor and a story that stuck with me: at the peak of his alcoholism, he claimed he’d pour cider on his cornflakes before heading to work. True or not, it cracked me up at the time, and I’ve even toyed with the idea of trying it myself one day—just...
Cellmates
Trigger Warning: Racism, violence, strong language
In the sweltering belly of Wormwood Scrubs, the air reeked of sweat and despair. I was just a kid, barely 15, shoved into a cell on my first day, heart pounding like a trapped bird. The door slammed shut, the screw’s keys jangled, and his boots echoed down the landing, leaving me to face my fate.
The cell was a furnace, the stench of the pisspot in the corner choking the air. On the bottom bunk sprawled a guy, maybe 20, his cropped...
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