I never comment on newspaper opinion pieces or columns.

I barely reply to tweets.

I think it’s the pressure in opening yourself up to a world of pain.

Once you don the proverbial commentary gloves and casually throw a jab or joust you have to be prepared to take whatever comes swinging back your way.

It’s like street fighting. Anything goes.

When the Titanic left the Harland & Wollf shipyard in Belfast and entered the choppy Irish sea for the first time on 2, April 1912, Thomas Andrew, the chief naval architect, had no doubt in his mind it would pass its trials and be declared seaworthy. After all, rumours were floating around for months before its arrival in Southampton that it was the ship that was unsinkable.

I remember years ago watching a TV documentary about the notorious serial killer Ted Bundy. It was an interview on death row an hour before he was to be executed.

Everybody loves to dream big and let their mind wander to the fantastic. In my opinion, somewhat generalised, there seems to be a distinction between a man and a woman’s idea of fantasy.

For most young adults, growing up in the church presents a shared fear of being single. I believe this feeling is more intense than for those who likely never I Never Kissed Dating Goodbye grew up in the church.

I don’t Netflix and Chill, however, I do enjoy the slow immersion of podcasts. I auto-subscribe to a checkerboard diet to level up my health, wealth, and wisdom like it’s some superpower.

I’m a sucker for factual programs. One thing I love to do is watch British documentaries. I think they have the whole investigative reporter style and nuances down pat.

The first response always given when something terrible happens to someone is: Why? Why me? Why now? Why not him or her? Why on earth? Why, why, why?