The Wider Universe Frog

I think we have discovered that I have an annoyingly busy mind, if it focused its energy on more useful matters… I could potentially have cured world famine by now… or at least taken the bins out. For instance, the other day I crossed paths with an egg shell, a broken, discarded egg shell on the pavement on a busy Sheffield Street. Naturally, for the next 30 minutes, until I was distracted by something else, I considered that egg shells back story. How did it get there? What happened to its contents? Was it hard boiled and snack worthy? Was it used to victimise the innocent or vandalise the inanimate? I mean, really, there isn’t much to consider here; I could have floated past 10 elephants doing handstands during that 30 minute ponder and still have more eggshell to contemplate.

The Wider Universe Frog is a complex Frog (don’t worry – there’s not many of them) that causes me a very specific feeling of anxiety – I very much enjoy intelligent and philosophical conversations about the crossover of physics and religion. But my God (#IfThatsYourRealName), anxiety can get me when I lose myself to these thoughts, burning in the pit of my stomach but also making my lungs feel like squashed grapes because one question always comes back around… Am I even real?

The majority of frogs in my Brain Pond are large, proud beings that secrete slime whilst they sit there looking pleased with themselves despite how menacing and ugly they may be. The wider Universe Frog is an exception; its skinny, looks pained, and shakes when active like a nervous, malnourished, bald kitten with a skin disorder. I think my mind has conjured this visual because, no matter how much I put the universe to rights, I am in the dark. My other frogs represent more tangible fears, fears that could probably be conditioned away if it wasn’t for my own shortcomings. Wider Universe Frog represents an uncertainty that no one can cure.

Am I even real? What a horrid question; when my mind allows this question to fall into my lap it gives me the feeling like I just want to end it all and see what happens afterwards (Random Insert: Don’t go calling the Samaritans on my behalf, I can deal!). I have my usual anxiety feelings but mixed with this other feeling of being very small and unimportant surrounded by people who are loud and bold and unaware of how small and unimportant they are; which in turn makes me feel very odd and alone… Doesn’t sound too unpleasant but it’s a crippling feeling. I’ve never suffered from depression (#TouchWood), but if I ever do, I hope this feeling is never involved because I usually have the capability to squeeze out of it quickly and couldn’t cope with it long-term… but lets not get too deep:

Random Insert: Even though it pains me terribly to say, I feel like I must get this off my chest – my own father is a Flat-Earther (just to clarify – a person who believes the Earth is flat)! I know right?! These are the people you read jokes about on Social Media, and I have one sitting at home reading with a glass if red. I am not saying that all conspiracy theories are bull-crap, but there is no doubt that this one is. I am fully prepared to accept the idea that maybe the Luna landing was staged, but also – Who cares? Even if it was staged, they developing technologies to get us to Mars using light energy. We are developing space tourism. We are even looking at way we can mine for minerals on asteroids – I mean DAD – 1969 called and wants its conspiracy theory Back! (don’t worry I bought him a years subscription to National Geographic for Christmas – we’ll learn him yet!)    

I was bought up Roman Catholic and have no absolutely no regrets in this, I have renounced my faith as an adult but am very grateful for my up-bringing. I pray from time-to-time, but not because I feel like I need to communicate with my Catholic creator before he damns me to hell, but because I feel that if the universe knows my problems, it helps to take away some of the worry. Also, I’m not a very open person when it comes to my feelings so it’s good to vent (#INFJ personality type – if Myers/Briggs personality test means anything to you); hence why this blog if a big deal for me even if no one reads it. To me, religion and science is just as dangerous as religion and politics – they just hold each other back. Religions perfect partner is history #Amen

I enjoy learning about space, the more you read and the more knowledge you have on the subject of space, the more daunting and unanswered it gets. Science only goes so far when you don’t know what’s past the universe! We could just be the genetic makeup of another organism living its life somewhere. We have rewound time through physics to the start of the Big Bang – but a Big Bang to us, may have been the birth of a cancerous lump on the neck of a Zambitoot from the 9th dimension called Jez! Our current planetary situation with global warming, terrorism and teetering on the edge of nuclear destruction could just be Jez’s cancerous lump getting to an untreatable stage four… Sorry Jez.


Condensation Frog

Condensation Frog is what I want to draw your attention to in this chapter. It’s pretty self-explanatory really – condensation can sometimes freaks my frog. It’s an odd one but maybe not quite as obscure as TV Chef Frog, and its far more tangible than Natural Disasters Frog, but they are all stories for another day.

I catch the Peasant-Wagon every day for work (AKA the bus #SavingThePlanet #TooNeuroticToDrive); I wouldn’t call myself an eager bus rider, but I’m eager enough to not want to walk. It’s about the same eagerness as I have for the gym… I go to the gym, but I don’t enjoy the gym.

Random Insert: I was at the bus stop the other morning and had been waiting a while in the shelter, with a que of five or so people behind me. I could see the bus just popping into to view over the horizon where it was waiting at some lights. I wanted to stay in the protective realms of the glass shelter for a little longer whilst I awaited its arrival; but because I did not manoeuvre into position next to the curb ASAP after catching the first glimpse of it in the morning haze, these five or so ‘eager’ bus riders pushed in front and assumed the curb-side position for me! #BusWankers! not that I am bothered because, as I said, I am not eager to board the disease filled metal box on wheels, but this is England #GreatFilm, I thought people knew how to que?

Back to topic; on a wet day, condensation builds up on the inside of the grim grimy windows on the peasant-wagon. This natural occurrence of the water cycle leaves me feeling a bit claustrophobic as you can’t see out the windows and there is a musty smell lingering that makes it feel as though I cannot breathe. So condensation happens when a gas turns into a liquid and the physics of such should be easy enough for my Mind Pond to comprehend, however, what makes this frog’s sweat beads drip from its clammy forehead I the idea of ‘what gas’.

This frog manifests the idea that bus window condensation is actually Bus Wanker breath, breath juice created by the condensation of multiple bus wankers breathing. Who knows how many people have breathed on this bus today to cause such a steam? Could be millions!! (Disclaimer: it’s not millions)

Do you remember the sex scene in Titanic? The one with in the vintage car and the suggestable handprint in sex breath condensation…? It’s not for me. Not even Leo DiCaprio could entice me into that sex sauna.

It’s not cool when you see kids on the bus drawing in the condensation, or passengers wiping the windows with their bare hands to try and see beyond the fog **involuntary gag**. Then Hygiene Frog makes a splash, not just because you know those kids don’t own hand sanitizer, but also because you’re thinking about how often the buses are actually cleaned.

Then more overthinking happens like – how many poles and buttons I’ll have to touch to get of this infected tin can; followed by the usual paranoia of my eye-balls popping out in an unsavoury environment and what my emergency escape procedure would be.

Random Insert: Have you ever been in a club or to a rave where it’s so hot and sweaty that actual droplets of condensed sweat have dripped on you from the ceiling? Been there, done that, lost my shit! So that may have helped reinforce my Bus Wanker breath idea.

I have thought about this a lot, and I don’t think that I could lick the window of a 76 bus to Sheffield Central on a wet day for 1 million English pounds. The only way I’d ever consider it, would be if the life of a loved one was at stake; however, there would be tears, and I might offer my own life in exchange for theirs and pray that my hostage takers had the heart to accept my conditions.

Random Insert: when water builds up in a bag of prepacked salad! – someone please invent salad bag that has a built-in dehumidifier!… for my nerves sake.

All Things Medical Frog

Other than the odd smear test with a middle-aged lady looking into the depths you my nether regions for 1 min max every 3 years, I can’t say I really ‘do’ the doctors **touch wood**. It’s not for me. In fact, hospitals, ill people (sorry loved ones), bodily secretions, wounds, injections and all things medical are all part of the same slimy old toad.

I am a silent hypochondriac, neurotic to the bone no doubt about it (#Greenday). In my clouded head, the doctors symbolise the first step towards a hospital referral and ultimately my slow and painful death. You’ve guessed it, I’ve never been a fan of Casualty! This one time, at band camp (#AmericanPie), I got kicked out of a first aid course for not being able to control my gag reflex during their accident re-enactment video. I know it’s all fake deep down, but they paint a very realistic picture with tomato sauce!

I once got a bad case of sinusitis, I’ve had it before and recovered without any trip to the house of emotional trauma, but this time it was unreal. My face, ears and throat were all on fire, I’d gone partially deaf (believe it or not, I learnt that snot can build up in your ears! Was news to me too) and it felt like I’d done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson. My face was puffy, but annoying only on one side and I got the odd comment that it looked like Mumps – so paranoia hit warp speed and off I trotted to my emergency appointment (what luck they could fit me in on the same day, why is the NHS not going down the pan the day I need it to?). The delightfully judgey doctor gave me my first ever course of antibiotics (don’t take them if you don’t need to kids, we’ll all becoming immune!) and she also gave me an unwelcomed telling off about working when one is sick – (I’M NOT SICK!!)

I kid you not, this course of antibiotics cleared up about 3 other medical complaints I had been suffering with silently for a number of years. This positive incident stunned my age-old pond dweller, ANTIBIOTICS ALL ROUND why have I not been doing this all my life I asked I myself… then my optimism cash landed in a bad way. Have you ever heard of thrush? No one except Google told me that this was a potential side effect of antibiotic abuse. I’d heard of it; a bit of an itchy vagina doesn’t sound like the end of the world. But I had obviously never had thrush, I didn’t realise what full thrush consisted of. Full thrush is not just some itchy labia, in fact I barely remember an itch; as what sticks in my mind is the vaginal secretions.

Sorry fellas, I won’t apologise for my vagina (#Feminism) but you may have heard of the term ‘Cottage Cheese’? well this put me off fondue for years! It poured out of me like how I imagine the placenta would after giving birth. All cheese, from this point on now has to come in 100% solid form for me to go anywhere near it; not even Dairylea Spreadable crosses my threshold. My mind frog was now covered in pulsating boils filled with cottage cheese that sporadically burst and caked over other frogs with its infection. Then all the infected frogs started playing up, STI Frog, Hygiene Frog, Awkward Conversation Frog, Boil the Bloody Sheets Frog!!!

Disclaimer:Boil the bloody sheets frog’ is not a real frog, it was just used to highlight a point. In actual fact boiling sheets probably fits under Hygiene Frog but it’s linked to so many other Frogs it probably does deserves its own frog. Also, when I say ‘real’ I don’t mean ‘real’ I’m fully aware these frogs are not real and I do not have schizophrenia.     

So that’s basically how ‘cheeses who don’t define themselves as 100% solid’ made it as a sub neurosis of All Things Medical Frog. Its achieved this despite the fact that cheese would not come up in a game of hospital word association, congratulations cheese. My ordeal ended after an awkward conversation with a Boots pharmacist when I couldn’t find the Canesten, followed by an unpleasant fight with a syringe to which no one won.

I will not be taking antibiotics again unless my life has been threatened and/or its court ordered.

In a Nutshell/Pond

I have an internal stream of neurosis hidden from the human ear. This, teamed with weirdly high levels of imagination, a small amount of paranoia and the inability to communicate effectively with my peers, has essentially led to the overwhelming need to vent.

I could write a book about my issues with warm toilet seats or the fact that I think about my eyeballs popping out of my head at any second; but life goes on and therapy is expensive

I guess my main aim from this blog is to scoop out some of the wildlife featured in my thoughts and put it in a zoo for all to see. If along the way I find any like-minded people willing to add an exhibit, to what I hope will be a flourishing public attraction – then great!


I like to think of my brain as a mound of frogspawn; a lovely image I know, but probably not that far from the truth (disclaimer: I have never seen a brain, nor am I medically trained past GCSEs). When a slightly damaging thought occurs, a tadpole starts to twitch within one of the slimy cells that make up my Brain Pond.

Random Insert: Tadpole is one of the many childhood nicknames I had relating to the fact that I am only a ‘tad’ bit Polish. Coincidence? Probably, but I’ve still given it far too much thought as the frogspawn in my head manifested from a very young age

So, at this stage my tadpole/thought is nothing but a mere jittery nucleus, happily passing the time in its soft protective jelly, completely unaware of the monster it will grow to be. But its hungry! The tadpole is a hungry subject matter that grows when fed new fears or related material from my own disturbed conscious.

One thought leads to another like a mind map or a family tree with many branches but no logical outcome; just a cascading tube map of never ending crazy. The more thoughts that penetrate this unhappy womb, the stronger my little amphibian gets. Conceived through negativity, it thrives in the Frogtopia that is my Brain Pond, sucking in all the nutrients it can and ultimately growing its own tail.

This tail is a symbol of freedom for the little critter. This tail means it can now escape the confined restraint of the soft cell (#TaintedLove). Therefore, this little tadpole is a fully-fledged neurosis with many many connecting sub-neurosis attached to it.

               Disclaimer: 1000 apologies if my memory of metamorphosis is not scientifically accurate, this is essentially a living metaphor conjured by my mind. I am very aware that my version of a frog’s life cycle probably has no standing against a primary school biology book or your 8 years olds homework. This purely relates to my Mind Frogs.

My destructive little tadpole has a tail – they grow up so fast! At this stage they are a real threat, past the pro-choice pickets at the clinic and too far gone to abort. So, what keeps these little tiddlers alive in the wider Brain Pond they have been birthed into? What keeps them alive and growing is making sure you revisit their subject matter on a daily basis, constantly feeding the hang-up they represent with more fear and real-time reinforcement. This may sound like hard work but I am an expert frog breeder and nurturer with 31 years of experience in the field… or pond.

My hungry fellers eat all day every day and soon sprout legs, arms and creepy little digits and even slimier exteriors, for they are now froglets. Toddlers of the amphibian world, these froglets stumble about the Brain Pond banging into tadpoles and other froglets and making everlasting connections. If it sounds sweet, the point is lost, for this is when the neurotic mind mapping has an everlasting knock on effect. I hope I haven’t lost you – here is an example to demonstrate the expansion of my pond:

Example: Bringing back the warm toilet seat comment of yesteryear – now we have made connections with subsequent thoughts such as toilet door handle touching, grimy soap dispensers and slow unhygienic hand dryers. But that’s not all that’s found in a toilet! You walk straight into a toilet smell that coats your eyeballs with a film of disease and poop bacteria. But now we are thinking about eyeballs and the potential risk of them popping out, you don’t want them popping out in a toilet, that’s the worst environment for that and your hands are too dirty to cup them until you reach A&E so you get a flesh eating bacterial disease and die AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I hope you see how that escalated, just writing this made me very aware of my eyeballs and a little anxious. But I don’t want you to get the wrong impression… I am a fully-functioning member of society, I do not bleach my hands or environment, I can go outside unaided and make a point of gaining new experiences and friends. My friends and family would describe me as a little quirky perhaps but generally calm and down to earth.  I am a secret frog farmer, this is the first time this information has left the Brain Pond. Warm toilet seats and empty eye sockets are just a couple of examples of mature frog, mature frog I have nurtured since before I can remember  

Mature frogs are the end result, sat there on Lilli pads of despair, their croaks can be heard echoing all over the Brain Pond. There are many species of frog, I’ll probably mention a few in this blog, but I won’t lie, many of the stories I have to tell and thought processes I have only exist due to my ugly frog collection