From here, at casa S&F's

"well I did say move the suitcase when I came in!"

"Get me a fecking drink, I'm in training you know!"

"Erg! thats gross!"

"No, it's me not mum"

"No putting your feet under my arse again - EITHER of you, least not till I have finished eating please"

"Either that cat goes, or I do!"

"Just wrap the fucking presents PURLEEEEEEEEZ!"

"no I have no idea where it is, you ask him"

"what are you wearing? Fuck what am I gonna wear! No I am not going naked!"

"Oh god I can't give him that card!"

"Well blame me, I bought it after all"

Oh well, time to go for another ciggie and bark at the moon.

Or something.

May, just may possibly get a quick go on here before the off tomorrow, but if I go all silent and off radar, just think of me in a car heading up norfff like.

And think of the poor souls trapped in it with me.

We had a chilli tonight, which could have been a very, very bad move.

Night darlinks!

In other news - My daughter has just named her imaginary pirate ship the "Un-Jolly Roger Moore"

A chip of the old block she is!

"Da da da daaaaa, da da dan da da!" and all that.

No, not the poodle haired Europe rock anthem but my state of mind. You see I will be traveling by motorised vehicle to Birmingham tomorrow so won't be on here. Try not to miss me too much. (altough I may have a chance for a brief chat later, but if not I am doing this - eh?)

Yes another weekend of galavanting about, when I get to do a full week of work I may well die of shock.

Things still to do:

Get phone credit top up.

Get some wrapping paper.

Get some money (that'll help)

Eat and drink and try to go to sleep through the excitement/nervey jitters that I am beset with.

May need a session on the LP Deluxe that is stashed at S&F's to unwind.

See those of you going when ya get there.

Erm, paddy - I haven't waxed so you will have to settle for a bithday kiss.

Here I was thinking I could spend the afternoon just kicking my heals and smoking, when the boss asks me to revisit a file I have sent out as there are some peculiarities in it.

"Oh don't worry, I probably just fucked it up" Said I. I can do honesty some times, even if it is just to see the look on someones face.

Anyway, thats my afternoon wasted.

But, I have just come back from getting paddy his pressie and only mention it here to wind him up!

And I got him a disgusting/funny card.

And I am still nervous about tomorrow night.

and I need another coffee and a ciggie before looking into this file.

and and and and and.

(PS - if I have not commented much on your blog of late and have been a regular, please don't be offended. All this bollox at work since I came back from Edinburgh has kept me off here as much and at home I have a dog of a pc and other things to attend to sort of ish. I am not pissed off with anyone or playing favourites - but I am paranoid, which helps)

It’s started again!

Well it started last night as I was stuffing t-shirts into my rucksack for the coming weekend.

That horrible nervous feeling that has now escalated into a minor Monkey attack (ahh how I missed that tight feeling in the throat and the shaky hands)

Why – because I will be meeting some new people this weekend and that sort of stuff terrifies me!

And I know that I have spoken to some of the people I am going to meat at great length virtually via msn and whatever and shared stuff with them and they with me, so we are not exactly strangers but- well THIS IS REAL! no screen to hide behind!

A while ago I did a post, which contained 5 contradictions about myself and asked you to do the same for yourselves. One of mine was “I make friends easily but am scared of meeting new people”

I think that’s true – well I know the last bit certainly is! I get nervous because I always think people will just not like me, or think I look foolish or whatever and it gets reeeeely bad. Then I go in, try to act confident and bullshit my way through.

Meeting new people really is an excellent cure for constipation.

Right, think I have got all the t-shirts and stuff I need for this weekend in Birmingham, although due to having his head stuck in Big Brother Paddy has not let me know if the pub thing has any daft dress rules like "no hoodies" or such daft bollocks.

Erm, and I think Abi seems to be not going, or have I got that wrong? Who is going anyway again. And why have I lost the ability to type in english?

meeeeep.

Any way, shite day at work made worse by not knowing how to speak or think due to tiredness.

May have to have a wee nightcap and stumble off to bed.

Having an office full of “top dogs” is a pain today. Can’t catch up with you all at all!

“Well do it at home then!” – well I would but my pc is a dog and I have to do something else tonight involving some fine single malt whisky, a particularly fine Les Paul, A Marshall amp and then some cars going round in circles rather fast. Just don’t ask.

Also we have just been told that we are moving out of this office for the rest of the summer while it is refurbished. Oh fucking really! And we have to be out by next Friday!

This is annoying as for over two years we have been asking for this office to be refurbished as it is a shite hole – so why the rush? Have they listened to us? NO.

A director has had a brain wave and wants everything done as soon as possible because HE wants the office refurbished as he is moving in. Oh good. So we get kicked back to the Old Street area.

Bugger – no more cool pubs and guitar shops at lunchtime.

But this is the best bit. They have already started to gut the office around us BEFORE they told us that we have to move in just over a week. I am sure the reason my Internet connection is so damn slow today is due to the fact that they are starting to take out some of the pc cabling already! Which is another reason I haven’t been able to blog much or read as it all takes far too long. (This is being done on word and pasted onto the blog for speeds sake)

So.

Erm.

There.

Sorry that I have not been responding to comments or commenting on posts. I will try to catch up before going to Birmingham. Does anyone going have a wifi laptop?

Whatever that is.

The office is full of suits, so being on here is a bit of a restricted activity - which is doing me no good at all after a weekend of no blogs. Need to catch up, wassup with certain people, who has done what, you know - all the good stuff you need for a normal life.

My head is full of cotton wool due to lack of sleep. Not good when faffy headed clients phone up and ask me stupid things over and over again. Bugger.

And in other news, I only get asked to nearly sort of go out for drinkies when I can't actually sort of go nearly sort of.

Or something.

Is how much sleep I have had, give or take the falling asleep bit, the waking up for no good reason bits and so on.

Our plane took off at 22.45 - only 3 and a half hours late. Oh good.

So we did not crawl into our beds till 02.00 this morning.

Sarah was great at the airport and very entertaining. Thank god for that! But she did flake out in the car on the way back from Stanstead.

As I left the house this morning it was filled with the sound of delicate female snoring. Hehe.

So, now this is weird. Hardly anyone is in the office yet. So I could be on for a nice peaceful day of just trying not to fall asleep, rather than having to do some work and try not to fall asleep.

Ho well.

AAAAAArrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhh!

Right!

Here I sit in an airport with no smoking areas (but still sells you ciggies!) waiting for my flight that should have gone at already but will now not go till 10.05 tonight (god willing) on a fucking shit computer at 10p a fucking minute so not able to catch up with any emails or blog posts that have been done while I have been gone.

I may well be forced to rip someones head off and shit down their neck before two many more minutes have passed!

The only thing for it is a larg vodka and coke I think!

BUGGER!

In other new, I have had a great weekend and also got to buy me and Sarah a great big skull and crossbones flag each. For no better reason than they were there and we wanted them.

See you on here tomorrow as I fight to stay awake at work then.

A phone call arrives, if you can describe a burst of micor wave hitting your mobile phone as arriving, from a well known waster and writer of this parrish.

"Nick, it's juzzy - where are you staying next weekend in birmingham"

"Eh? dunno."

"What? you must know where you are staying! Have you got a room booked?"

"Yeah, erm"

"So where are you staying?"

"Dunno"

"What?"

"Well, Mr S has booked a room for him and Mrs F and one for me, sort of thing and erm, so I just follow along, being one of lifes followers. And stuff"

"Oh. So anyway, where are you staying?"

"Dunno. Tell you what, when S&F land in Edinburgh later I will ask them and let you know. Hang on - why do you ask? are you going to be wandering round the hotel I am staying in dressed in curtain fittings again?"

"Possibly. I just thought we could all stay in the same place and then we could all get wankered together."

"We? Wankered? is this some liverpudlian term of social endearment?"

"Shut it you posh southern git! its just a thing we do up here. like. lar"

Or something like that. Anyway - why do people try to get sensible information out of me when I am not in the least sober and sat on my arse waiting for Dr Who to start.

Eh?

EH!

Still. That's next weekend sorted anyway.

Expect great tails of much sillyness some time in the near future.

Or not.

Or something.

Now, I reeeeeeeely should think about packing.

OK, thought about packing and am off to do more palinka drinking.

Mmmwah!

“Each person tagged gives 7 random facts about themselves. Those tagged need to write in their blogs the 7 facts, as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven others and list their names on your blog. You have to leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and to read your blog.”

Well Ok, but I am not well - remember that. Ahem.

1 I am far too drunk from last night/this morning to be flying to Edinburgh tomorrow with Jo and Sarah to meet up with S&F and moff.

2 I used to be in the boys brigade.

3 I appear to only have a partial gag reflex.

4 I can put a screw driver into my nose until only the handle sticks out.

5 I have very flexible hands, ask me to show you my "two right hands" trick if we ever meet.

6 I do a very good impression of the Darth Vader/Obi Wan Kenobi fight scene from star wars - Just need an empty pint pot.

7 I always want what I cant have.

I tag

Erm, Abi, Browneyes, Classic rock chick, Fatal, Madders, Red leader, (I am not going to be the first one to tag that shameless self publisist "J") and Miza T.

I have not tagged S&F as I know all their secrets already.

Now I am going to drink lots of water and try to sober up.

Or drink some more Palinka.

And then,............

erm.

What the fuck am I doing this weekend?

OK?

Just....

Ssshh.

(I would have posted the stuff from the site but have no idea which of the multiple choices to pick)

LORD JACK OF THE BALTIC

No word of a lie.

Fate, that's what it is.

Well they are pretty much wasted on me as I tend to lead a dress down sort of life.

But some people who you have seen all week in shirts, ties and trousers suddenly look like they put their clothes on with a shovel on Fridays!

Some people just don't look good in Jeans.

Yeah, I know I have very little room to talk BUT I always look like I got dressed in the dark thank you!

Yes. I am just killing time till lunch.

What gave it away?

(to the tune of "Isn't she lovely" by Steve Wonder)

Look at the jubblies!
Oh aren’t they beautiful.
Much more than a handful,
Please may I have a hold?
I never thought,
That I would see.
Someone as jugged up as she.
So very lovely
Made from Jugs.

Sexist and immature in the extreme I know and if I cause offence.

Well go somewhere else – its’ Friday after all.

Well, Hay fever anyway.

Sore feeling throat (thought I had just scratched it when I was finding out if I do have a gag reflex or not) but no, its hay fever. Sneezing a bit as well. But a least I now have a nice gravely deep manly voice.

The bit that reeeely gets me is when my inner ear starts to itch and the back of my throat feels like there are ants crawling around in it.

Well I could have something worse, like lupus.

Sorry I was watching "House" last night, and we all know it's never Lupus.

Whatever that is.

Jo informed me that AOL are having a "Pirate Picture" competitoin.

You have to send in a pick of yourself dressed as a pirate to win a prize, its all related to the new Pirates of the Caribean film or something.

Where am I gonna find a picture of me dressed like a pirate hmmmmmmm?

Oh yeah, my media. and my header.

Now, should I or shouldn't I?

Nah, best not.

A**e!

As my old dad used to sing after a few rums. Well he was an old sailor.

Anyway - here is the scene in Trafalgar Square.

It's all something to do with a promotion to show how London is "Just a collection of little villages"

Which means of course there a many more village idiots on the streets of our capital than I first thought.

Rain I mean.

It is hot and steamy and grey here in jolly old London town. It needs a damn good thunderstorm to clear it all.

Of course the resulting water falling from the sky will render the transport system useless, but at least we would be cooler.

I actually enjoy a great big loud summer thunder storm.

So, clouds - get doing all that rubbing up against each other stuff or whatever it is you do to get the electrical charges going and give it some welly!

No - not drugs, but the green lawney type.

And not in one of the many squares and parks in central London, but Trafalga Square.

Apparently for some strange reason, they have (or are supposed to be) turfing it over for today at least.

Hmmmm, gonna wander down and snap a piccie or two.

Well it'll keep me out of the pub.

Got an ivitation to join someones friends list last night.

Now this person has never commented on my blog, and I have never read theirs. I checked out their blog and they had over 300 friends! not exactly in need of my witterings then were they.

Oh, and the invitation and blog were in Spanish. Like most other English people I can only just about read and write in my own language never mind Spanish. My problem not theirs I know, but all the same I had to deny the request.

Speaking of friends lists, I should trim mine down as quite a few of the names on it don't blog anymore. But, well ya know. She had 300 after all. Might just keep them for sentimental reasons. Not to make myself look more popular.

Not at all.

Well nearly.

The tube trains were a bit full today due I think to the circle line being suspended or something, so the first tube that pulled into Liverpool street was rammed with compressed and sweaty bodies. As I was not yet late I decided to forgo the pleasure of making lots of new close personal friends and let it go.

The next train came in less than a minute and as it slid past me it looked good – there were spaces so I would attempt to wiggle myself in when it stopped. Now I always get on the last carriage as this is the one that is closest to the exit at Tottenham Court Road, but as the last two carriages emerged from the tunnel I saw that they were in total darkness with no lights on at all inside! “This’ll be fun” I thought.

So I get on and wedge myself in a corner as there are no seats and off we go. We go into the tunnel and everything went black! As in “Can’t see my hand in front of my face” type darkness. Claustrophobics need not apply!

But then small patches of illumination broke out here and there amongst the seated commuters – they were using their I-pods and mobile phones as torches so they could continue to read there papers and books!

Never underestimate the resourcefulness of the British commuter!

If you do see him, do not approach as he is armed and dangerous.

Thank you for your attention in this matter.

Fuck off!

Pimp my Trabant baby!

Note the alloy wheels and the lowered suspension (which has probably given out due to old age)
And pay particular attention to the mean looking headlights.

Pure automotive class, Jeremy Clarkson would love it.

Ahem.

And of course anyone else who cares to look.

This was one of the two dogs in the turkish Coffee bar in Budapest. See Shipscooks blog for all the details. It was at the tomb of the only turk still held in high regard, as he introduced roses to the country.

Just back from a wander round the town – London is sparkling in the bright sunlight and things are looking good. Mooched past all the guitar shops in Denmark Street and tried not to dribble. Went down Charring Cross Road and turned into Shaftsbury avenue – the smells coming out of China town were making my mouth water.

I was heading towards Piccadilly Circus and had to navigate my way round a gaggle of dawdling tourists. In doing so I got a bit too close to one of those big metal ticket machines that now lurk near bus stops. As I swerved around them and passed close to this machine my left shoulder hit the very thick and hard metal lip that juts out at the top, which hit my shoulder right on the very top bony part (the socket for my arm bone I imagine)

CRACK!

Fuck it hurt – I was in bright warm sunlight and my whole body went cold! I am amazed I didn’t let out a little girly scream. Two minutes down the road and my head was still feeling a bit light and my body still felt cold. Bugger that.

But I managed to walk on in a manly fashion, all the time thinking, “Shit, do not flake out in public! Do not flake out in public!”

Still I am pleased to tell you all is fine now.

OK I know you don’t care but I have to write about something don’t’ I?

In other news,……….</