30. Football night

Rival football firms arrange to settle the score in a showdown after a local Derby match, but it soon becomes apparent that things aren't going according to plan, with the hooligans getting more than they bargained for from a third party.

29. Affair.

A beautiful young woman meets an attractive man in a bar seemingly randomly. He seduces her, she falls in love with him and he proposes. He leaves her at the altar, leaving her heartbroken. However, everything is not as it seems, as the story then goes back in time.

28. The Road Sweeper

A highly successful Oxford graduate leaves a career in medicine to become a road sweeper, much to everyone's bewilderment.

27. Hike

A casual Sunday afternoon hike in a sleepy village for a 19 year old man suddenly becomes rather bizarre as he meets the 82 year old version of himself. As he asks his older self questions, the strange answers prompt many more questions.

26. Makeover

A shy, withdrawn and frustrated lady in her 30's receives a fantastic makeover and her life drastically changes. She becomes more confident, more assertive, feels more attractive and, as a result, more sociable. She meets a man, gets a new job and feels more content. A study of the power of positive thinking.

25. A few lessons in music

I started playing guitar when I was 15 on a cheap clunky acoustic guitar. I started lessons with a gentleman called Kev, who had a great reputation. I just wanted to learn a few chords and write a few songs, as I had just started listening to John Lennon. Kev was a world class player, stand-up guy and would subsequently become an inspiration and mentor to me in other things apart from music. He was a master of the guitar, and could play literally any piece of music.

As most guitarists and musicians will tell you, music theory and sight reading can be daunting, perplexing and painfully dull at times. This technical language can appear to be firmly divorced from the organic creativity, self expression and 'jamming' that brings joy to many people. It's the reason they start playing in the first place. In order to be a good musician, however, some theory knowledge is essential and as a friend of mine said -

"In order to be a good guitarist you have to be a bit of a geek, but we try to hide it"! 

But it was Kev who demystified music and broke it down into its simplest form.

He simply said, "There are just twelve notes in music, it's just how you play them and when you play them".

He encouraged improvisation rather than blind adherence to modes, scales and technical virtuosity. He taught me the blues. He taught me to jam. He gave me the tools to play from my heart and express my feelings through wood and steel.  

24. Rough - another true story

The mid morning sunlight poured through the window into the luxury bedroom. I opened my eyes and sat up in bed, feeling numb and disorientated. I realised I wasn't still drunk, I was still wasted. A crippling, paint-stripping hangover was in the post. I looked around the room.

"Where am I?" I muttered to myself.

I looked down and to my horror I saw blood all over the bed sheets, the bed and the floor. So much blood it had soaked through the mattress. I sat there in shock for five minutes, unable to digest the information. What on earth had happened here? My memory was hazy as I tried to piece together the preceding hours.

I was in a luxury chalet in small village called Argentière in France. The chalet I had been working on for two summer months with a stone mason, building a wall outside. Upon completion of the wall we had decided to have a party, and as my friend and I had played a gig in the local bar, we invited half the village back to the chalet. It was big, with seven bedrooms, a swimming pool and a hot tub. I remembered the start of the night... but what happened after? I looked down and quickly realised where the blood had come from - my foot. My poor foot had several large chunks of glass in it and I had been so drunk I didn't notice. I had literally been bleeding for hours.

I hobbled out of the bedroom to see who was around, still bleeding slightly on the carpet as I moved. I walked into the nearest bedroom and saw my friend Robin and a girl.

"Robin, what happened to my foot mate?" I croaked.

"Oh shit!! I've no idea! There's blood everywhere!" replied a surprised Robin.

"You should see the bed!"

After ten minutes of investigation it became quickly apparent that due to the general level of drunkenness, a number of bottles had been smashed on the decking near the hot tub. Another girl had unfortunately suffered the same fate as me and we were quickly advised to go to the local doctor’s surgery. A friend drove us there with only 20 minutes to spare before it shut, while other party casualties kindly helped to clean the blood stained mattress.

Now, being young, drunk and English in a small French village is not an enviable position to be in at the best of times. Going to see a doctor who you quite possibly kept awake the night before with your insidious noise pollution is also not a pleasant experience. Going to see this doctor when he is about to shut, without your European Health insurance card and being told you need several stitches in your toes is quite simply divine. For reasons I cannot recall, apart from his obvious sadistic tendencies, he administered the stitches without local anaesthetic and charged me 100 Euros for the privilege.

When people say "I feel rough" after drinking I empathise and understand on the deepest possible level.