You've somehow found my home page. I'm guessing you're either extremely bored, browse the interwebs too much, or have come here by mistake. Nevertheless, welcome to my site - enjoy your browse. And if you enjoy it, you might also like my ramblings on Twitter @oxguin. If you don't, you might like the ramblings of other people over at Lovely Tweeps.

New stuff

My regular reader will know that most of my posts are somewhat jokey in nature. I thought I'd have a go at something a bit more personal - my dances with depression and anxiety.

I'd known I wasn't generally happy in life for a long time. I could see everybody else having fun and getting on with their lives. I knew that wasn't me - I didn't deserve it. I didn't have a problem, I just wasn't worthy of the happiness and contentment that everybody was having.

With apologies to all present ... I've often wondered whether the tweeps I interact with are real people or some cunning Turing Test type bots. There was only one way to find out. So, dear reader, I went to my first ever tweet up. This is my story of it, other people's may differ!

Dramatis personæ

Pie & mash
As a middle aged man, I find the worls is different from when I were a lad. Sometimes for the worse - I still miss the Corona Man. Sometimes for the better - I can now publish this blog and billions of people can read it. Obviously I'll be lucky if only one does, and that includes me.

However, I accept that changes happens. And that change should be embraced whenever possible. But, in Ukip style (yikes!), there is one change with which I will not put up. Gastro pubs can fuck right off. Before I start on gastro pubs, let me tell you what a proper pub menu should be like.

We all change throughout our lives. There's a lot of pressure to conform to social norms. But, for me, sometimes these social norms do not allow me to express who I am. I'm going to use this post you share with you, my one & only reader, my deep dark secret. I'm going to come out and to be who I really am.

Well, gosh. This is hard to write. I fear it will cost me a lot of friends. My family may well even ostricize me.

I've been outed as a vegan. I am. But also very anti-vegan. Let me explain ...

In theory, it should be easy to define veganism - a person that uses no animal products in their life. But, like most things in life, it's not that simple. Vegans cover a spectrum: uber-light to uber-strict. So let's start with a taxonomy of vegans ...

I'm often asked where the moniker oxguin came from. Well, I was asked once. It's hard to explain. Actually, it's not - it's an alamagation of Oxford (where I live) and penguin (what I love. No - not in that way. Just stop and think about what you've done, and how wrong it is). So, a post about Oxford.

I love living in Oxford. To be more accurate, I love living in East Oxford, just off the Cowley Road. Despite my own prejudices, it's nowhere near as poncey as I though it would be. There are real & lovely people here - many of them aren't even white privileged men.

So I just had a week off work, which has allowed me time to ponder the deeper mysteries of life. The mystery that has taken up most of my time is this - if you only had one piece of cutlery, which one would you choose?

Before I start, I want to make it perfectly clear that this is my philosophical journey into the the ultimate meaning of objects in our lives - and beyond our lives into meaningfulness of the multiverse as we image that it exists.