Mitchell's Mustard Blog

September 23, 2016

The things I would tell a younger me

  • Don’t start smoking . . It may seem like everyone else is doing it but smoking will stay with you longer than most of those people.
  • Be yourself . . I wasn’t happy with who I was until I reached my 30s, it wasn’t too late but I could have been happier earlier.
  • Not everything your parents tell you is true . . They want the best for you but sometimes their opinion can make your playground smaller.
  • Be respectful of others feelings . . Everyone has a personal battle and some of your actions can affect others in ways you couldn’t imagine.
  • Appreciate the people close to you . . One day they won’t be there anymore and the things unsaid will haunt you.
  • If you believe in something, fight for it . . If you let it slip through your fingers then chances are you didn’t care about it that much.
  • ‘There’s always tomorrow’. . In most cases that’s bullshit, you’ll only keep putting it off, get it done!
  • Learn to agree to disagree as early as possible . . Everyone has a different opinion on things, most aren’t worth falling out over.
  • Some days you’ll feel like you’re alone, you’re not. . Talk to someone, open up and trust people. Your pride can take the day off.
  • Stop shaving . . You look much better with a beard. Stop complaining about the itchy stage, man the fuck up.
  • Don’t fear doctors and dentists. . They’re here to help you (and make you skint). Your health should be a main priority.
  • Don’t be negative . . Stay away from negative people and energy, that shit is incredibly  contagious. Don’t be part of the chain!
  • Drugs . . Do what you have to do, just be safe. Don’t be peer pressured into taking anything you’re not sure about. You can easily find yourself in a black hole that will chew you up and spit you out.
  • Learn a new language, or musical instrument . . You will try to learn both later in life and find them both near impossible.
  • Never think any idea is too big. . If you want it, go for it. If you fail then at least you have tried, that’s better than most. Shoot for the stars!
  • Nothing good comes easy. . If you want something to work then you have to be willing to roll your sleeves up and work for it.
  • Balance your work and personal life. . There is a fine line between the two and it can tip either way. Do you work to live? Or live to work?
  • Be polite. . Just because a lot of people around you have no manners, doesn’t mean that you should act the same way. Two wrongs do not make a right.
  • When your Grandma is ill, go see her more often. . Say the things you want to say, hold her hand, tell her you love her. Saying it to a hole in the floor isn’t quite the same.
  • Research tattooists properly. . Have a good look around before you settle on a tattooist or you’ll find out halfway through your second tattoo that the tattooist line work is a little off because he has a glass eye!
  • Don’t pretend to be something you’re not. . Or you’ll find that the people who befriend you or fall in love with you don’t actually know you. Don’t lie to them and don’t lie to yourself.
  • Girls that like bad boys. . Don’t even bother! You might have your father’s mind and mouth but you have your mother’s heart and emotion. You will never fall under the ‘badboy’ category.  
  • Don’t get too involved in others bullshit. . Be supportive but be careful or their bullshit will eventually become your bullshit. You have enough weight on your shoulders, you don’t need theirs as well.
  • And finally. . Believe in yourself. Don’t put yourself down, there’s plenty of other people out there that will do that for you! Be kind to yourself, and for god sake smile more.    

July 14, 2016

His Loving Touch

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 3:09 pm

“Fuck. . . I’m sorry” he yelled.

The words that echoed around the walls as she lay looking up at a crack in the ceiling, it wasn’t the only thing damaged in this house. His voice had changed so much over the years, it had lost it’s edge of calm, of love, and reassurance. It had become angry, just like him. Soon after it would turn to desperation while she cried nursing the new trophy of their altercation. The kind of trophy you didn’t want on show, hidden under her make up rather than proud on the mantle piece. This had become her life. Another day, another bruise. She was strong, had built up a tolerance to his knuckles. But this time was different, the type of knock that puts your world on it’s side, pulling you into a plume of darkness, the ones you have to wake up from.

“I didn’t mean it, darling. I didn’t. . . It was an accident” he pleaded.

She flinched from his skin, she could smell the alcohol seeping from his pores. This smell had become resident in their household, a long time gone were the scent of flowers and peace. She stay laid where she landed, he collapsed back onto the sofa. His presence of anger turned to adolescence, holding his troubled mind in his damaged hands.

“You have to forgive me, my love” he begged.

She had never feared him before, she knew the telltale signs as to when she should keep her distance, but never actually feared him. But she lay there fearing the next moment, the next day, and the next time his anger touched her skin. Her nausea could have been from concussion, realisation, or their unborn child.

“Help me, please help me” he sobbed.  

The thing she feared the most was that she didn’t want to be there, but she didn’t want to be anywhere else either.    

November 20, 2015

The Junkie Boneyard

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 3:19 pm

I will always remember the day I decided to turn a corner . .


The air was so heavy I could taste it, a mixture of mould and the unkept. The room was dark and dank, a patchwork of plaster and brick on the walls, urban artistry that occurs only from being unloved. The only thing that broke the silence was the creaking of ropes that held up the hammock I was laying on. On further inspection, this hammock was about five foot from the ground and held up by pulleys connected to two of the walls across the corner of the room. God only knows how it was holding my weight, also I’m hoping he might know how I got here, because I had no clue. In fear of moving too much I carefully checked my surroundings. To my right I could see the room was littered with cushions, candles, and sporadic limbs protruding and entwined with sleeping bags. Hoping these limbs are still attached to their bodies. To my left was a window, a battered and ripped blind masked the sunlight from outside. I could see dust dancing in the rays of light that beamed through the cracks. The window ledge was covered in dust, burnt out candles, spilt wax, and the one main thing that caught my attention, a bloody hand print. ‘Where the fuck am I?’ I thought to myself.

   I had been wearing the same clothes for 3 days, my skin felt like it had forgotten about it’s love affair with water. My jeans clammy from sweat, my skin sore where my clothes had started to pinch. My mouth was dry, my nostrils on fire, whether that was from substance abuse or breathing in the close encounters of the room, I wasn’t sure. Craving fresh air and a warm shower to wash away the loathing, I needed to move.

   Before testing the strength of the hammock I looked underneath to make sure if I did fall, I wouldn’t be landing on something or someone. There wasn’t even anything I could use to climb down onto for a safe dismount, there was no way I could do this quietly or gracefully. I lay there for a moment trying to execute a plan in my mind, I didn’t want to find myself in a position where I’d have to converse with another human being, I just wanted out. In one swift movement I was sat upright with my legs dangling below me. If I gently eased myself off the hammock I felt like I could land quietly with great precision, like a ninja. Oh how I was wrong. After breaking what could have been 4 glasses of water, knocked over a couple of candles, kicked a metal tin across the room, and standing on someone’s hand, I had successfully caused the room to stir. All the movement under the sleeping bags and cushions played games with my mind, I felt like I was in a scene from the movie Tremors, the floor looked like it was moving, I panicked, I did what every straight laced mind wouldn’t do, rather than run I sat down cross legged and closed my eyes. For a fly on the wall view this would have been quite amusing, the floor moving and crashing like waves around me as I sat cross legged in the middle, eyes closed while humming to myself to find the calm inside.

   I don’t know how much time had passed, but the room was deadly quiet again, and my heart wasn’t trying to leave my chest. Looking around me I could see all sorts of drug paraphernalia, the ones that caused me to think long and hard about my current circumstances were the used hypodermic needles that littered the floor. There was a fine line between a bohemian drug haven and a junkie boneyard, this was a glimpse into the latter and I wasn’t interested. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what the smell, taste, and feeling of this room was. But I knew I didn’t want it to be part of my life. My current lifestyle was hanging above my head like a noose, so the decision was easy to make. With this new found motivation, I got up, I found the door, and I got out. I remember stepping out into the sun, feeling warmth. I walked up the path and turned back to look at the house. I had never been there before, and in more ways than one, I have never been there since.                   

No turning back.


July 1, 2015


Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 7:58 pm

Pale, the curving contours causing shadows and dull patches. Coloured spheres darting back and forth with a similar rhythm to a pendulum on an old washed out piano. A surface that has seen many elements, masked, but only a prevention from age, there’s no cure as the time passes away. Weathered, yet attractive. Like pebbles skimmed across the surface, leaving ripples and wrinkles of life, but unlike water, the wrinkles become more apparent with no signs of fading or drifting away. With each cycle of the sun, the lines hold firm and claim their place. Each passing he notices something different, a soft façade capable of love and emotion, but sometimes riddled with exhaustion and anguish. Depending on his frame of mind he sees beauty, positivity bringing on the attractive glow. Knowing that negativity will only swallow up the good and drag the insecurities to the surface, only for him to see but is believed all will bear witness. A state of vanity that’s stoked like coals in a raging fire, he knows that growing old gracefully is the only option. Most days he knows what he sees, but on the odd occasion he doesn’t recognise what’s before him, what looks back at him each and every day. He knows it better than most, the shape, the strengths, the weaknesses, but there are days, days that just leave him to question. Today isn’t one of those days, he might be looking older, worn, weathered, with dashes of silver, but that is what’s looking back at him. The mirror doesn’t lie, but the mind does.

February 10, 2015


After just ending a phone call to my mother, wishing her and my father a happy 42nd wedding anniversary, I had asked her how they had managed 42 years? She had simply replied, “you work hard, and you make sure you laugh a lot”. With deep honesty, I hope I hit that milestone, but, this had got me thinking.

Do we work hard enough at our relationships? Or do we sometimes find that we simply quit at the first hurdle because we’ve forgotten what pulled us together in the first place?

Temptation is on every corner, on every page, there to shake you awake every morning. It has become part of our everyday life, but we all know that the grass isn’t always that much greener once you cross that bridge. In bad times, I think you have to sit back, look at your partner and remind yourself of the things that you cherish about your relationship. You’ve worked to get to where you are today, is it worth giving up, or are you afraid of a little hard work?
I can’t help but think that the problems we all have in our relationships are made by a lack of honesty, it can only be as complicated as we make it, right? Obviously, not all relationships are meant to work, but can you walk away knowing that you tried? None of us go into a relationship thinking that it isn’t going to work . . . What caused that first ignition of passion? What ties you together?
Yeah, I know it’s easy for me to put a couple of words on a page to try and sum up relationships, I know all relationships are different due to different circumstances . . But, the one thing that ties them all together, they all start the same . . . with two people attracted to each other, willing to push all boundaries to make it work.
I’ve walked away from a relationship without a second thought, and I know that I’ve also been on the receiving end of that too. The older I’ve become, I’ve realised that I could have tried harder.

If you’re in the midst, or you’ve just managed to shake off a nutter, then please ignore all of the above. We’ve all been there, good luck with that.

As I said, I hope I hit that milestone. Sometimes it seems a little doubtful . . . But, that won’t stop me from trying!

February 9, 2015

So, you think you know retail?

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 9:49 pm

For my sins, I’ve worked in retail for over a decade and a half. Working in a customer facing role such as retail, you get to see some sights, asked some stupid questions, and generally put up with some absolute bullshit. But, you also get to meet some amazing people, have some of the strangest conversations, and laugh till it hurts. The good outweighs the bad, tenfold. Otherwise I wouldn’t still be doing it. But no one really wants to hear about the good stuff, do they?!

People seem to lose all common sense while out shopping, you wouldn’t believe how true this comment is, really!! I’ll give you a couple of examples. . .
When it’s raining, rather than get wet, people decide to stand in the doorway waiting for the rain to stop. I get that, you don’t want to get wet . . . but have you ever taken a moment to think? When there’s a few of you standing there, in the doorway, no one else can get in or out of the building?!?!
You’re walking through the store with a pram towards the exit, as you’re leaving, a friend of yours, also with a pram, enters the store . . . It’s great when you bump into an old friend you haven’t seen for a while and you have loads to catch up on, but please remember . . you both have prams, you’ve both stopped in a doorway, how about you exit the building, onto the pavement where everyone else that exists around you can get by?
When the instore marketing, and a member of staff tells you ‘today, you get 40% off everything’, the key word there is ‘EVERYTHING’! So when you start to pick the occasional item up and ask if you get 40% off that item, or this item . . . the answer will always be the same, ‘Yes, you get 40% off everything today’.

I’ve also been on the receiving end of some really pointless complaints. . .
I had to stand and listen to a man for about ten minutes complaining that we ask our customers to queue from the left and not the right . . . Really??
I had a woman make an official complaint against me because I was on my lunch break when she rang to talk to me.
I had a man complain because the zip had broken on his jeans, fair complaint I hear you say . . I thought so too until he told me they were ten years old!!
I also once had a women complain that I was discriminating against her because she wore glasses. . . . I wear glasses!

Some other things that have happened that I will never forget. . .
I’ve had an old lady fart and follow through onto a wooden stool she was sat on, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that!
I’ve also had a women shit herself while trying a pair of jeans on, decided not to tell anyone (which I understand would be embarrassing) and leave the jeans in the fitting room, nice!!
I’ve had a little boy pull his trousers down and decide to piss up the wall, afterwards, his parents helped him pull his trousers up and they just walked off without saying a word.
I’ve had a pregnant women pass out on me, I sat on the floor with her for an hour, she was okay, we spent a lot of the time laughing and joking.
I’ve found a pair of kids trousers in a fitting room, someone had relieved themselves on them. Yes, what you’re thinking right now is correct. That was a stomach churning moment.
I’ve had a junkie women try to touch me up, then say ‘I want you to come and help me out of these trousers, but be careful with me, I’m on my period’ . . . I declined the offer.
I’ve had a man stroke his hand through my hair while I had my back turned, obviously I was distressed by this and asked him what he was doing . . ‘I wanted to know what hair wax you used?’ He replied . . then, he occasionally popped into store to give me a ‘present’, this normally consisted of a half used pot of hair wax with bits of his hair in it.

I have also dealt with loss prevention in three different companies. In that role, you get to deal with the more aggressive customers, I say the word ‘customers’ loosely. I’ve been punched, kicked, pushed around, and threatened. I’ve had a knife pulled on me, and a needle, both were on different occasions, and out of the store. But the worst for me, I’ve had someone spit in my face while mid citizens arrest, who does that? Dirty little fucktard! That’s the only time I’ve lost my cool, and got into a little trouble myself.

So, you think you know retail? These are the kind of situations, and people we get to deal with on a daily basis. And these examples are just a gentle tease. But with ever bad, there’s multiple good moments. .

Once, one of my regular customers knew I wasn’t doing anything for Christmas, she offered me a plate at her table with her family. I will never forget that kind gesture.

January 12, 2015

Maybe I Was Wrong?

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 3:53 pm

I have never been a big believer on how a New Year can bring you a better
day, to draw a line in the sand, a fresh start if you must. The
countdown and cheers that come from your current location in a room full of
people with the utmost belief that tomorrow will be different, be
better. You won’t hear me say this often, but, maybe I was wrong?

I’m still sceptical on ‘New year, new you’ but I will say that there are
advantages for the 1st January being your starting point, It’s got to
work better than, say, 1st May, right? One thing I do believe in, your
next trip around the sun won’t be any better than the last if you’re not
willing to do anything about it. For sure, we’re all going to
experience a melancholy month or two, but that’s down to your frame of

As my dad is known to say ‘it’s not about the situation,
it’s how you deal with the situation that counts’. My dad has always
been optimistic, and I am my fathers son. Yeah, I’ve had some shitty
months, we all have, but we’ve all had some fucking amazing months too,
however we as humans are prone to forget them when feeling a little lost. If you’ve
ever met someone that states they’re happy everyday of the year, punch
that smug fucker in the throat before they string you another line,
steal your wallet and try the horizontal dance with your partner.
They’re not just lying to you, but also lying to themselves.

We all know that time is a healer, whether you like, or hate that phrase,
it’s true. It will never look at the problem, wipe its brow, breathe in
through its teeth and silently work out how much it can swindle you for.
It will never give up depending on the magnitude of the problem, time
will always be standing in your corner with your spit bucket and mouth
guard. There will always be tomorrow . . . And if there isn’t, well, you
might have a bigger issue to deal with than a cheating partner, not
having enough money to go to the sugar hut dressed like a cunt, or
finding your job as monotonous as Kim Kardashian.
This year will be amazing! That’s not because it’s another fresh start, or because
your mate believes it will be and so should you, nor even because it
couldn’t get any worse than last year.

It will be amazing because you’re going to get up and do something about it, it’s in your hands to make that statement your reality.

Dreams are meant to be made a size too big, it’s so you can grow into them.

August 19, 2013


Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 7:41 pm

Holding your hand and rational thinking disintegrates, my dreams expand and prevail. No idea is too big, no task too challenging. I hold your hand and I become the keystone to an existence, rather than a moth to a flame, I’m a flame to a fuse. Ignite and lead where others fail to reach, expand, create, a new beginning, but still holding the good things from old. To listen and understand is one thing, but you, you act, you pull the bits together to complete the puzzle. You don’t try to find missing pieces, we just make new ones, to see the bigger picture. You held my hand, pulled me from my knees, to the soles of my shoes. A glass that is half full with determination. You’ve never had the intention of taking over or filling some big shoes, you just want to make sure the laces are tied correctly. This will never be about them, but about us. all other existence blends into the background, the blur of the forgotten reality. I know how you feel, not because of the words you use, but the way you view me. You believe I’m destined for a greater good, where as I’m just trying to get my hands dirty fighting the good fight. For someone to truly believe, all doubt must be stripped from the hearsay, back to the foundations so you can only work upwards together, to believe. I hope our fingerprints can hold the weight of a promise, an idea, fulfil the connection, hold on. To me, slipping isn’t an option, we can’t drift, we can’t float, but we may need to bulldoze to get what we want. Lock and load, this connection like an uncrackable safe, a mini fortress. A delicate entwine that twists and bends to the environment but coated with strength and ability to conquer. ‘Mi Amore’ ready to become the light, the dark, the true, the false. Tomorrow is only a flicker of the eyelid away, hold my hand and lets see this through.

November 21, 2012

The Curious Ant

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 5:46 pm

There was nothing wrong with being a little curious thought the lonely ant whilst walking with his hundred plus army companions, it’s a strange feeling to be surrounded by so many like you but feel so alone at the same time.

Why do we always walk in a line?

What would happen if I peeled off from the rest and went my own way?

Everyday this lonely little ant had the same thoughts, and always the same adventure plans in mind. He was a curious little ant that wasn’t like his brothers.

Why am I always following the one in front?

Why can’t they all follow me?

One day this little ant was going to break free, make his own plans and do what he wanted to do. He had plans of mini adventures, everyday he walked past a mound and never got the chance to stand on top of it or see it from the other side.

But . . . what would happen if I got into trouble?

Who would be there for me if I needed something?

Suddenly the doubts crept in like they always did, it was great to be a curious ant with ideas but scary to think what might actually happen if he did go his own way. As he made his way back to the nest he thought to himself . . . .

Maybe I’ll do it tomorrow?

November 7, 2011

Lead The Way

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 10:39 pm

‘Take my hand and let me lead the way’. That’s what I’d say
to you if only you knew my name, instead it echoes around in my head. When our
paths cross in this small world we pass pleasantries but I know when your eyes
fall from mine you forget my face. With beauty such as yours why would you need
to remember a face like mine, a face that blends into shadows. Standing face to
face for that moment my heart plays the role of a childhood slinky, the feeling
it will spring out of my chest at any moment and land at my feet
eager for the next step. I blush, I know I blush but I have no control. My cheeks
start to burn; my heart may seal a similar fate to that of the wax on the wings
of Icarus. My bashful presence is really obvious to me but you probably don’t
notice, I wish I had never seen you but I also wish I saw you more. One day you’ll
know my name and maybe you’ll take my hand and I’ll lead the way. Maybe
tomorrow . . . . .

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