My motherfuckin’ mind, the sum of all fears,

Combine all your nightmares in one

Then add the scent of an onion

Use the skin to dry your tears

Nothing even matters, I really don’t care

It’s hard to see a bright side

The darkness has its own shine

But my faith has lost its glare

My one last trip, let’s make it a dream

For all the evil in the world

To fall through the trapdoor

Close the curtain, magic is not what it seems.


Greg J Allman.


Wallet Gone Walkies!

So this morning I crawl out of bed at 7:30 like most normal people do on a Thursday morning. I get ready for work but notice something is up. My desk/girlfriend’s makeup table was missing a certain square shaped black leather wallet. No worries though it’s usually located on my other desk/drawers under my computer screen. Not there either. So obviously panic sets in rather quickly and I hunt around my house for about 20 minutes searching high and low for my wallet. In the end I concede defeat and head out to work walletless.

Upon my arrival I realised that I probably dropped it when I was running to my girlfriends car. It was freezing last night and I only had a shirt on for protection. So then I knew I had to do the inevitable. Contact Santander and cancel my debit card. Literally all my nightmares were just rolled in to one big ball-ache scenario. I’ve never had a conversation with their employees that ended “Thank you so much for your help, have a nice day.” Being someone who has worked in customer service for years, I know that’s not a good sign.

So I dial their number and press a whole load of number until I’m put through to an actual human in the right department. I tell him my scenario and think this should go smoothly enough. I give him my address and think all is sorted.


He asks me if I have any direct debits coming up. The only one that sprung to mind was mobile broadband for my girlfriend’s iPad. No biggie, sorted. He then asks when my last cash withdrawal was. I respond unsure and give him a whole load of times I used my card to pay for things. Turns out I failed a security test and my card won’t be re-issued but has been blocked.


He tells me I can call back if I remember otherwise take my passport and a bill/bank statement to my nearest branch and they can re-issue it that way.

Fucks Sake!

Excuse my blatant apprehension to this but the last time I lost my card I did this and it didn’t end too well….for me. It was a rainy night in Ealing and I was trekking back to my apartment. I had my backpack slung over one shoulder, two shopping bags, an umbrella and my phone in my hand. I was bound to lose something and that something was my debit card. The very next day I set out to Santander and got a new one re-issued. I was told it would take 7-10 days. Two weeks later I walk in to the same branch debit cardless and enquire about my situation. The employee informs me that the card was indeed cancelled but whoever did it forgot to re-issue a new one. Funny that I thought to myself being that the person I spoke to last time I was in there was in fact the very same incompetent employee.

Fast forward February 2012. My bank card expires and I need a new one. I’m told that the bank just issues one as they have it on record that the card is about to expire.


I telephone their customer services team and enquire as to what the procedure is. They cancelled my card and told me an updated one will be sent out in the next 7-10 days.

Where have I heard this before?

Two weeks later and still no bank card I call their wonderful, efficient customer services team again and enquire about the whereabouts of my card. Their employee had no answer other than “no idea what’s going on here”.

Fucks sake!

So he ended up cancelling that card and re-issuing me another one. Answers on a postcard as to how long he said it should take to reach me.

Finally after a month of enquiring for an up to date debit card I finally received one.

Santander are full of surprises, not the kind of surprise where you walk in to a dark room and your friends and family jump out from behind a couch or fridge and yell Surprise! But more the kind where you sit on a wet couch and let out a shriek, only for your mother to rush in to the room and inform you that your niece wet herself earlier. Surprise!

Greg J Allman.

The Art of Rejection

Dear Greg

Thank you for your interest in _________________, UK. At _____________ we believe that as much as the candidate has to be right for us, the role has to be right for you. Ensuring that there is a firm match is important to your career and your wellbeing as well as our continued business success.

We have had the opportunity to review your application and regret to inform you that on this occasion, we have chosen to pursue other candidates whose skills and experience more closely match the role.

Again, we genuinely appreciate your interest in _________________.

Kind regards,



All of people are familiar with these types of emails. As writers we probably receive emails like these constantly. I know I do. Everyone usually has the same advice for receiving rejection letters/emails.

“Just keep trucking on.”

“At least people are reading it”

“Keep sending stuff out, you’re on the right path.”

“Don’t be disheartened.”

All good advice I must admit but sometimes it does feel like I am cracking my head against a brick wall, or walking down a never-ending path of rejection. But then again I might not be. I guess the beauty of life is the mystery that awaits us around the corner. Even though we see clearly, we see nothing at all. I guess the whole point is to be optimistic. Most people that know me, know that I’m more of a cynic disguised as a ‘realist’.

Therefore I’m heading out to buy the biggest bottle of champagne I can find. It’ll be on ice for now, but you’ll be the first to know when it’s being cracked open and spilled all over my fancy clothes.

Until then I’ll celebrate that every day I wake up with the will and ability to write. I’ll celebrate by doing what I feel I do best.

Greg J Allman

T-Shirt Sale!

Can you define the meaning of life on a t-shirt?

A witty slogan that makes your mind wander,

JUST DO IT deserves a tick for positivity

But what is It? Always makes me ponder.

I ♥ NY as much as the next

And why shouldn’t I wear it on my chest.

A plain white T is pure,

And black could signify anger,

Especially if you’re Samson to her Delilah.

Everyone’s a BOY LONDON

I’m trying to be a man or something.

All Day I Dream About Something,

That’s far from the ORIGINAL

Three stripes and I’m done.

An image of a cross, an image of a gun

Both have more in common than a high street store.

No one cares about the price tag

When the # offers SWAG for sure.



Just know the HYPE eventually dies down

Like that of a TWO ANGLE ADDICT without a KR3W.

He tried to hit me with a forklift

Of tees for the next season or two.

Greg J Allman.

Grand Theft Awkward.

This is a public service announcement to the gamers of the world. Beware! GTA V is upon us and there is no turning back!

Thank You,

Greg J Allman.


“It’s clear where you’re priorities lie Kyle, I’ve had enough.”

“Sandra please, just let me explain.”

“Explain what Kyle that you’re a thoughtless, mindless pig of a man!”

“Well yeah, but I love you.”

“Well it’s too late for that now, goodbye Kyle. Try not to waste life playing these games forever.” Sandra slammed the front door. He sure was going to miss her. He sat on the top step and listened as the car sped off. This had been what he’d been crying out for all day. Now that he had it, he wished he could trade it in.


Kyle was a sensible man; nine times out of ten he did the right thing. He treated his girlfriend well and they’d had a loving relationship for over two years now. But he had a weakness, just like every man. Kyle did his utmost to fight against it. But tonight he was surrendering to its ultimate power. He couldn’t fight it anymore. Nor did he want to.



“Well you don’t have a fever” Sandra placed her palm on his forehead.

“It’s my stomach. I’m sure it was that place last night.” Kyle moaned.

“Gary gave it rave reviews babe, it couldn’t have been there.”

“Oh yeah Gary knows all, all bow down to Gary.”

“Kyle stop. You sound like a petulant child” her voice was firm.

“I’m actually a very sick child, who would like to be excused from tonight’s dinner party.”

“But it’s my birthday Ky, I really want you to be there” Sandra cried.

“And I will be, after the dinner party. I’ll be accompanyin’ my princess to the ball” Kyle smiled. His cheek always served him well with Sandra.

“Hmm, you better not be pullin’ a fast one on me Kyle” she warned.

“I’m not” he surrendered his hands.

“My colleagues were lookin’ forward to meetin’ you at this.”

“Tell them I will see them at the after party. Champagne’s on me.”


Kyle got out of the bed and took a hold of Sandra. Tonight was her special night. Her 21st birthday, and she wanted to make sure the proceedings went off without a hitch. Kyle knew how important tonight was to her. It was all she spoke about when they went out for dinner the night before. Kyle was never fond of Lebanese and that was confirmed when he woke up with the toilet for company this morning. Sandra’s supervisor and all round creep Gary had suggested. Kyle had met him once before, although he claimed to be married no-one had ever met his wife. Plus he was a very tactile person, especially at social events. He’s the balding man in a silk white shirt at parties casually resting his palm on someone half his age’s waist.

“You promise you’re comin’ out after.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world babe. You know that” Kyle reassured her.

“Ok, make sure you take some medicine before you leave. You’re shirt’s ironed, so is the suit” Sandra pointed over at his wardrobe.


“Make sure you do that top button up as well. I don’t wanna see you lookin’ like you’ve come out the office” Sandra moaned.

“No babe, course not.”

“Ok, oh yeah, shoes not trainers I know what you’re like and.”

“Darlin’ get a move on, you’re gonna keep everyone waitin’” Kyle interrupted.

Sandra smiled before becoming teary eyed. “I love you so much Kyle.”

“I love you to babe. Now go on, knock ‘em dead.”

Sandra skipped out of the room and hustled down the stairs. Kyle waited by his bedroom door until he heard the front door close. He hurried to his window and saw Sandra get in Gary’s car with a load of her colleagues and speed off.


Kyle leapt in to the air with admiration and joy. Tonight hadn’t only been an important night for Sandra; it was an important night for Kyle too. He thought he carried his plan out perfectly faking a sickness from last night’s restaurant but it only kept Sandra at his side all day. Until now. Kyle’s day officially started at 9:05AM when the postman delivered a package for him. He wasted little time opening it and unveiling its contents. GTA V. He had marked this day on his calendar for months, and finally at 18:57 he was able to get the game underway. All night his imagination ran wild over all the in game action he would be experiencing. Parachuting out of aeroplanes, robbing banks and stealing cars, nothing and no-one was going to put a stop to this, he had waited too long. He switched on his XBOX and slotted the game in the disc tray. Kyle could feel his blood pumping under his skin. His mobile vibrated on his bed, he checked the screen. Sandra sent him a smiley face message. He threw his phone back on the bed. His screen lit up showing the opening credits to the game. Kyle selected which character he wanted to start with. It was a tossup between Michael the middle aged gangster going through a mid life crisis or Franklin, the gangbanger. He went with Michael. The opening credits to Michael’s scenario began, Kyle’s eyes were glued to the television, he reached over for his remote and cranked up the volume. His mobile vibrated, he felt around his bed before putting his hand on it. Another message, this time asking where he is, he messaged back in bed with a thousand kisses. He was sick of the interruptions; he was missing important plot points to the game.


Finally the actual game play started he was in the middle of a bank robbery with Michael’s character. His hands were shaking in excitement; the realism of the world created in this game was astonishing. Kyle had never seen anything like it. This was better than any birthday dinner, even better than sex with the woman he loved. Nothing beat GTA V on a quiet evening in. Kyle became so lost in the game that he didn’t hear the tyres screeching outside his home, or the front door opening and slamming shut. He didn’t hear the footsteps hurrying up the stairs and he certainly didn’t hear his bedroom door open.

“What on Earth are you playin’ at?”

“Huh” Kyle dropped the controller in shock.

“You said you were sick, you lyin’ bastard!” Sandra screamed.

“No, I am really. I just thought”

“Oh save it Kyle.” She reached over to the bed and picked up her phone. “I left it here” she said holding it up.

“Babe, I’ll get dressed I’ll come to dinner” Kyle moaned.

“No Kyle, just leave me alone.”

Footsteps thundered on the stairs and Gary emerged at the doorway.

“Ay up Kyle! Heard you weren’t feelin’ too clever.”

“Oh he’s fine, he just wanted to stay in and play his video games. Instead of celebrating my 21st. What a man eh” Sandra’s words cut him deep.

“Video games? How old are you now mate?” Gary asked.

Kyle let out a sigh “Gary can you leave us please.”

Gary tapped his watch at Sandra angering Kyle even more.

“Gary please, get out.”

“Ok, calm down Kylie boy.”

“Don’t speak to Gary that way” Sandra defended him. “Anyway we’re leavin’ now. Don’t bother turnin’ up later.” Sandra followed Gary down the stairs. Kyle stood at the top of the stairs in his pyjama bottoms.

“Sandra please, just wait.”

Gary disappeared out the front door. Sandra stood on the door step and looked back at Gary. Her mascara was running from the tears.

“It’s clear where you’re priorities lie Kyle, I’ve had enough.”

“Sandra please, just let me explain.”

“Explain what Kyle that you’re a thoughtless, mindless pig of a man!”

“Well yeah, but I love you.”

“Well it’s too late for that now, goodbye Kyle. Try not to waste life playing these games forever.”


The End is Nigh.

The End is Nigh.

Perspective. See it my Way.

Feeling slightly playful today. It’s raining out so I’ve been cooped up all day. This is just a little break away from all the serious, edgy things I’m currently occupied with.

Greg J Allman.

You only use me behind a locked door,

I put up with your shit, that’s all I’m good for.

But some days it’s not as bad as it could be

I’m here for you whenever you need me.

I roll for you and you just rip me apart

You have no idea what it does to my heart.

Sometimes you run, sometimes you blow hot air

Whatever the weather I’m always gonna be there.

Come rain or snow I’m cleaning your mess,

Just reach out to me, you know my address.

I’ll never move, I know my zone

Even though you leave me hanging here all alone.

I know my duties, but I just need you to care,

Just admit a love like mine is rare.

I’ll see you soon for another caper

Signed by you’re true love. Toilet Paper.

Eternal Love

Eternal Love

Super Sensitive!

My initial reaction was to give up my sense of smell. I sort of came to that conclusion rather easily and quickly. Simply because I am not a baker or chef. Although I love food, I feel like that I would love it more if I didn’t have the ability to smell it. I know it sounds ridiculous becasue the aroma of a dish plays a huge part in someone’s personal taste for it. But I seem to constantly find myself saying “Something smells” and not in a positive way. Just imagine all the things you wish you could un-smell. For example when my mum cooks mushrooms. The smell lingers in the kitchen for a while before deciding to explore the rest of the house. The smell reminds me of when you burp and a trace bile shoots up your throat. For a split second you think you’re gonna vomit. From giving up my sense of smell, I no longer get asked to check if dairy products are “still good” or to see if my little nephew has soiled himself.

I guess there are some negatives, for example I am a profuse sweater. Like seriously it does not take a lot for me to start pouring from my pores. I get the tube (London Underground) nearly every morning and every morning I step out with a full bodied sweat. So that always leads to me finding the nearest public toilet to re-lynx myself and step out smelling of roses…or whatever random scent I have in my bag. Not being able to smell smelly people is a huge plus, but not being able to smell myself is scary. I get the feeling I would end up spraying myself every two hours just to be on the safe side. Another pitfall is not being able to smell my farts. Now before you throw up in your mouths hear me out. All men let off in public, the same way they need to in the privacy of their living room or bedroom. The only difference is they need to be more discreet. Sometimes I can tell when a fart will smell, but there are occasions when my girlfriend disgustingly asks me “Did you fart?” and I embarrassingly answer yes. The thought of being on the tube or in a lift and letting one out that clearly smells like a gym sock that’s been microwaved terrifies me. Also it leaves me open for an attack similar to that of Sideshow Bob’s when he married Selma.

Can you smell that?

Can you smell that?

But for giving up my sense of smell I would be in receipt of a a super sense. That sense will be hearing. I have a tendency to wear headphones or earphones at the best of times and therefore I switch off to everything else around me. With a super sense of hearing I could blast out the finest DMX barks and growls all the while listening to my parents ramble on about their plans to move out of London. Also think of the times you’ve wanted to eavesdrop on a conversation but had to disguise your listening with playing music. With this heightened sense you could become the next Perez Hilton within a week with all the information you’d obtain.

There are some pitfalls with my new super strength ears however. Firstly I’m unfortunate enough to still have to ride the bus every now and then. Usually at times where school kids are littered all over the street. Having to listen to all of their conversations in detail would leave me wishing for bigger headphones. The conversations these school kids have is reminiscent of a bad episode of Top Boy or a conversation with an under educated rapper. A second pitfall (as if the first one wasn’t bad enough) would be the wails, screams and cries of babies. I have a nephew (who’s nappy I won’t be smelling) that cries morning, noon and night. His currently perfecting his tenor range while he’s still young. There’s definitely a place for him on the stage when he’s older.

It’s hard to determine if I’m winning or losing in this scenario. I’ll let you be the judge of that!