Area 136

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,……….

Well nothing really.

The friggin bosses are in here AGAIN today!

nothing like coming in and seeing your bosses boss sitting at a desk first thing to lift the spirits.

So might have to keep my head down a bit.

Bugger.

Had a very nice evening round at S&F's and Mr S knocked out a goulash of his own creation, which worked rather well. That's why he purchased that hugarian paprika in the gift shop at the airport, it was not just an excuse for him and I to hang out in there for a few minutes gazing at the truley lovely hungarian girl on the till, with those slinky hips, high cheekbones and amazing, erm, front sections. Not at all.

Saw something rather shocking yesterday on the way home - Dennis Norden in a pair of JEANS! blimey it looked odd.

Anyway.

Later you good people.

Right, going off now as this place is far too full of big bosses who make too much money and do not enough work for me to get any seriousl bloggage done.

Off I now trot, into the teaming and sun kissed streets of London - only to descend into to the rank and dim receses of the tube system.

I will emerge, reborn maybe after a little kip on the train in hopefully sunny ** were the domicile of S&F sits and let in the two fur balls Tolly & Cleo, who will then proceed to try to kill/shag each other while I try and have a nice peaceful wind down after all this bollocks.

Then food. and drink. and a chill.

Have a good evening all of you.

Talk to you later.

The break from bloggin has affected my bullshit glands - I have nothing to write!

OK, the server here is crap and the bosses are in so I have had to lay off a bit, but I can't actually think of anything to write now I have told you all about the break I had.

No rubbish is springing into my mind, no questions, no recolections - I will be wordless!

STOP CHEERING YOU BASTARDS!

I thought you loved me.

Oh wow, the woman with the huge porno sized breasts just walked past and waved at me. So the world is not all bad.

And so what am I going to find to fill a post up....Wait a minute - done it.

Well down to my usual standards. Yayy! Go go team drivel!

A dohanlyzas Sulyosan Jarositja az On es a kornyezeteben elok egeszeget!

Belting through the streets of pest in a mini bus, two wheels on pavements, weaving from lane to lane through traffic, flying down side streets like “Gene Hunt” in his Cortina, then driving out over the Elizabeth Bridge and getting my first view of the Danube.

Beautiful. Lots of bridges and the river wider than the Thames by about a third and fast flowing. Not at all blue looking buy what the hell. The hill on the Buda side of the river covered with trees, the canopy broken by the Citadel, The Castle, the Fisherman’s bastion and other old churches.

The bullet holes and blast damage in the stone walls of the bar opposite the hotel.

All the black and white pictures on the walls of the rock bar we found down the road – scenes from the Budapest streets from the 30’s and early 40’s.

The rich food liberally spiced with Paprika, the little dumplings and the chilli dips.

The dark beer (yum) the Palinka (hic!) the Unicum (yaargh!)

The trolley cars.

The girl at the Roman archaeological site.

The horrible German style toilets in the hotel that meant your “waste” landed on a shelf above the water level and then had to be flushed towards the water at the front of the pan. Thomas Crapper got it right first time! The shelf thing is in no way a good idea - unless you shit lilacs or have no sense of smell.

The nighttime views down by the river.

God it was fun.

Is crap - painfully slow and constantly crashing AND I am at work for gods sake, it should be quicker than this.

And so what with the connection being slow and actually having to catch up on some work, I have not been able to read your posts, reply to comments or do anything. The few comments I have scattered around have taken bloody ages to get through.

So.

Bollocks to it. I will go to lunch and see if its any better later.

Just wanted to let you know I am not being moody and ignoring you all.

(yeah, like that makes any difference to anyone ya muppet!)

If anyone ever offers you a drink of this

Just say "NO"

It was orignally a medicinal tonic made for a prince or somesuch by his physician from an old family recipie. The family still make it to this day - The Zwack family.

Says it all really.

And if I won't even drink it - you know it must be bad.

You knew it was coming. As normal, click on images to see the full picture as I think they look better at the full size

The "castle" on Galette hill (I know I have spelt that wrong) on the Buda side of the Danube.

Nice gaff eh?

The Chain bridge, which crosses the Danube at the point where a big chain used to be strung over the river making all ships stop and pay a toll.

We did go out during the day, this is the Fishermans bastion, which sits up on the hill to the right of the castle as you look up from the river.

The parliament building on the Pest side of the Danube.

A view up river

This is (I think) St Stevens Metallica.

No, hang on - Basillica. I always get those two mixed up, which leads to some quite embarrasing Sundays.

The last word to mother nature. This was the sky that greeted us on our last evening as we turned the corner heading to our restaurant.

That'll do ya.

What?

Oh yeah, there are a few pictures of certain people "at one with the local beverages" as it were. But they may be for friends only, just to protect the fine reputations of those involved.

And the bottle of Unicum.

heh.

Yes I am back.

Stop yawning!

I know I said I was going to check in while I was away but, well the internet Cafe is a bit scarce on the ground in Budapest. There was wifi bollocks at the hotel (which is no use to me) and a pc in the lobby but as our days were spent walking around all over the place - mostly up hill it seemed - I never got a chance to blog.

Sorry.

But if you are patient I may tell you later of the mad man that drove us through the city from the air port at speeds that would make Michael Schumaker Schit himself, the beauty of the river, the food, the hot weather, and even the toilets.

Oh yes. And a drink called Unicum.

no really.

You will have to wait till tomorrow for my pictures but I have a feeling Mrs F may be drawing first blood with those anyway.

Off now to collapse for a while till the pain in my kneck goes away, and oh yeah - Ciggarettes, les than £2.00 a packet RESULT!

We had a great time by the way.

Hope you have all been well. As you can tell I have not had a chance to catch up on the blogs so I do hope I still have all the friends I had when I went.

Later people.

Celebs I mean.

For example, just saw Harry Enfield and Paul Whitehouse outside our office with a couple of other people. Strolling along talking and being totally ignored.

They just looked like, well us - normal ordinary bods. I looked at them on the other side of the road lost all interest as a fantastic woman walked past I was captivated by the curve of her arse.

Celebs, not worth the eye strain really.

I thought I would treat myself to one or two “Beautiful British Pints” (C Al Murray, The Pub Landlord) before leaving the country. As I gazed out of the windows of Molly Moggs a big articulated truck rumbled down the Charring Cross Road with its trailer covered in the Logo for the 80’s (but still going to this day – bugger) band Saxon.

Shortly after this a gleaming and fecking big silver coach of sleek modern design went past, bearing on the upper part of its massive bubble Wind screen the legend “Saxon tour transport”

“Hmmm, I wonder who is playing at the Astoria tonight” wondered I, bereft of Sherlock Holmes style insight.

When I got down to the Astoria a few minutes later, said big F off truck was pointing the wrong way up the one way system by the Centre Point tower block, attempting to reverse across a very busy Charring Cross Road and up the tiny side street next to the Astoria that connects said road with Soho Square so they could load the tons of gear from the lorry into the back of the Astoria, and all with the police (the coppers not the band) helping.

Now Saxon used to fill big venues back in the day, and they are still “popular” on the continent, but I have seen much more hip and, not to be cruel, young bands loading there gear into the Astoria from a couple of large-ish vans without causing anywhere near the amount of chaos and with out assistance from the boys in blue. And the lines for those gigs started at 07.50 in the morning. No one there at the mo for Saxon. And if there was the truck would have squashed them by now as it backed up the side rode.

I could not help thinking that maybe the chaps in Saxon where over compensating for something.

Well here we are just past 10 of the morning clock and I have done all I intend to in the way of work – customer phone calls permitting.

As is my habit I popped outside to take my weird little brain for a cigarette in “the tramps bedroom”. This is what I have been calling the spot outside the office where I normally stand and indulge my vile habit. No not that one, smoking. It is a section of wall with a 90-degree corner in it so you are out of the wind and an overhanging balcony to protect you from all but the heaviest downpours. And that is why a Gentleman of the street has taken to bedding down there most nights.

But he is late getting up this morning; maybe he had a heavy social engagement last night or a clear diary for today. Whatever the reason I had to go and huddle by myself (a good trick if you can do it) near the cosy and inviting garage entrance.

I can be seen in all the best places around London you know.

Just spoke to Mrs F on the phone to confirm that I have packed for the coming break, and was shocked to hear that she has developed a voice that sounds like "Perry" from the Harry Enfield "Kevin and Perry" Sketches

(for those of you outside the UK, it was a sketch featuring two 12 year old boys - and Perrys voice would warble up and down between young kids squeak and broken teenager style gruffness)

It made me laugh a bit as the poor thing yodeled down the phone at me but then I realised that, horror of horrors! Mrs F may be coming down with something!

But it would have to be leprosy to stop her getting on that plane - after all, she laughs in the face of broken ribs.

Which is, when you think about it, a pretty stupid idea.

Off home soon to pack, but not too much as I have to come in here with it all tomorrow and go over to S&F's in the evening to be there ready for our stupid O'clock in the morning start. 02.00!!!!!!! that's because of roadworks so we are taking no chances.

And of course there will be all that arsing around getting through security!

Will endevour to do very little work and avoid answering the phones.

Yes, I know it will be hard for you to spot the difference but I will help with footnotes where possible.

Just doing this to kill some time.

Really looking forward to it, which could be a bad thing. I normally try to stay all "yeah so what" about going away till the wheels leave the tarmac, as before that anything can happen. Probably get to the airport and discover the computers are down (again) and they cant check anyone in for an hour or so.

I am such an optimist!

Speak to you all later maybe and tomorrow for sure.

Have good evenings all!

Just popped into the “Outdoor Experts” clothing shop next door to the office. As it was rather wet out there and I have no waterproof clothing to speak of I was intrigued by their sign “We can keep you dry and cool”

A number of lightweight but totally waterproof (so the labels assured me) jackets hung on the wall. “Hmmm, that one looks OK” thinked I, then I saw the price tag.

£175.66
Fuck right off!

I’d rather get wet!

Just remembered that Mr S told me there are about 360 Yugoslavian Florins (or whatever) to the pound. So that means all the notes will have a yard of zeros on the end and the prices in the shops will looks scary till you knock off the last three or so.

I am shite at mental arithmetic so this could be interesting.

We have had our phones upgraded over the weekend here at work.

Oh Joy. The few of us that got new sparkly handsets had their headsets taken away and no new ones left. Some of us still have the old style phones. These old style phones do not have the right buttons on them to correspond with the little laminated list of options that were left on our desks.

Oh good.

And to pick up a call at on another persons phone is now a mere 8 button presses, where as it used to be three. I will be exhausted by the end of the day.

Also, the voicemail does not work – it no longer picks up your call if it goes longer than six rings. So we have to pick the damn phone up no matter what we are doing. Voice mail will only work direct when you put it on, taking all your calls straight away. I am very tempted you know.

Also down the other end of the office some pillocks who look suspiciously like they “work” in marketing are overseeing the construction of a small bank of very new, very designer looking desks. Complete with very groovy and expensive looking seats.
This on a floor where there are about 50 or so totally empty, totally acceptable (but not new) desks waiting to be used.

And we have been told to not waste money as we are in the poo financially.

The message is not getting through I think.

Enough of my whingeing.

Two days of work then off to Budapest.

So I am just watching the clock really. There is actually some work to do and customers to phone so that should help keep me out of trouble.

Feel a bit flat today. But I will avoid having any form of funny mood. No I will.

(until of course, the enevitable two things happen - as they are going to - later and I let myself be stupid about it)

Apart from that.

All rather damp out there innit!

Must check the weather on the net for my destination later. Probably more of the same.

Any, must attempt to show willing.........

So, Slovenia won Eurovision.

Another fine display of countries voting for their freinds but very funny nevertheless.

The winner was a short woman, with short blac hair and a full figure. Now don't get me wrong - I like curvey women, and come to think of it, petite women and oh bugger, big women - well I was just trying to point out that I am not judging her by her proportions.

But.

As she came out of the backstage area with the rest of her group, in her little dark suit and with her dark little bob hairstyle, Terry "I am the only reason anyone in England watches this shite" Wogan casually said:

"Does anyone remember Abbot & Costello?"

Pure fucking GENIUS!

Because she did look a little like Lou Costello.

And if you are too young to remember or have never heard of him - Google or Wikipedia is your best bet.

Still, We had fun laughing and pointing at people from other countries.

and that is what Eurovision is all about really.

Right, back from S&F's

Sat and laughed my head off with Jo and Sarah at people getting smacked in the nuts with various objects on "You've been Framed" - that show is just so much better with Harry Hill doing the voiceover.

Then cranked the Marshall and the tonelab but put the Hot Plate power Attenuator between the amp and speakers so I could run it at full power but reduced volume! lovely thick sound - so I had a little "Guitar Hero" half hour.

Then had a huge panic when I could not find my passport that I need to go to Budapest on Wednesday, but a quick call to Mrs F confirmed that she still had it from our jolly up in Tenerife! Thank fuck for that!

So Eurovision is soon to start - a bottle of white wine is chilling in the fridge for Jo, a bottle of bourbon is in waiting for me (not ALL of it tonight you fools! what do you think I am!) and various snacky munchy products have been purchased on the way home by yours truly to either eat or hurl at the tv when it gets reeeely bad!

Sarah is at the moment up in the bath being forcibly scrubbed by her mum with a big wire brush judging from the fuss she is making, and we are all about to settle down on the sofa for an evening of pure cheese and naffnes

And of course

THE GREAT GOD WOGAN!

all hail and worship his be-wigged greatness!

So thats me gone for the evening.

Hope you all have a good one.

X

85% cocoa solids and truly gorgeous on the tongue, YES ladies - I do have a feminine side (like the shoe episode was not enough of a giveaway, or the billowy blouse/shirt of my header) I am having a dark chocolate moment.

With Black Coffee.

And just after all that, a cigarette.

Well you do after virtual "sex" don't you.

Ahhhh yeeeeeeeeeeeah!

But, you girls sometimes say that chocolate is better than sex. Well I know that when you have had sex, the person you have had sex with may never call you again, or call you all the time when you don't want them to, or give you something very very hard to get rid of, or steal your favourite cd's, or borrow money and not pay it back, shag your sister, mother, yadda yadda yaddda, and a bar of good chocolate will never ever do any of the above.

But better than a damn good, clawing at the sheets, scratching and biting, all over the furniture and half way up the wall shag?

OK.

Whatever.

Right.

What?

Oh yes.

I have endeavoured to wash away today and have done.

So bloody there.

And I think I need a second go through the old pre soak and hot wash routine or some other metaphor for more drinkies, just to be sure.

I have had some hugs delivered to me from various people (who know who they are) and I thank you. BUT next time get your lazy arses over here and do it in person. I hate tipping the delivery boy.

Ahem.

And in a break with tradition, one of my friends has axed their blog but not while I was away for a long weekend somewhere, which is the normal pattern of things! Look you lot, if your gonna stack your blogs do it when I am away having fun, so I get the traditional come down when I sit at my pc to relate how good it was where ever the fuck I had been.

But at least Ker Bear has left her profile up.

Well it is still there as I type. I don't know why she killed off her blog (again) exactly, but I think I understand why - just wish she hadn't.

and on that very cheerful note, probably F#, I will say - off to drink more and then a bit extra and cuddle my Les Paul.

Oh by the way, before I got here - today was officially a pile of shit.

It’s the 80’s just for a change. I did some silly shit back then and apologise for none of it.

We – My girlfriend and I – want and bloody well are going down to the Ruskin Arms to in East Ham.

There is also on this glorious evening, a “Mod all dayer” at Ilford Town Hall. So what? Well it means that we will have to get the 25 bus from the area we live to get to East Ham, and the 25 runs right up the middle of Ilford High Road. Oh good. So we do this thing, and we see a lot of Mods on the street of old Ilford, but as we are just two people on a bus in the early evening we manage to pass through without incident. Yeah there were a couple of Mods on the bus, but they got off at Ilford and we did get a few rude signs from the clumps of green parka wearing souls shuffling towards the Town Hall, but hey – we were gliding past on the bus.

Outside the Ruskin Arms at the close of the evening, we and the rest of our group who travelled through Ilford are discussing the situation. Soberly, honest to God. Some one suggests we go to the squat. Cool, but the squat is in bloody Ilford! Hellooooo! But we think this is a good idea. Must have been stoned.

I should just point out that the squat in question was the first Ilford squat, not one of the later ones that had electricity and gas and running water. This one was just a derelict house people used to use to get stoned in. Class eh?

So we get on the 25 and head of to Ilford. Who is we- let me introduce the massed ranks of the deluded to you.

Me – dressed like all the others in tatty leather jacket with a sleeveless denim jacket over the top and tatty jeans. Totally shite at fighting as I had not a lot of experience at that sort of thing but blessed with the temper of a Tasmanian devil.

Sandy – my then true love. Blond, curvy, big eyes and if she is reading this via Kizlodes blog, HI! Remember this night?

Sage – Drug dealer of the parish. Permanently laid back and easy going demeanour due to test driving his own wares, but actually never known to take any shit from anyone and a general street fighter.

Jean – the willowy very petite blond and extremely white girlfriend of above fellow.

Rob the Grob – now deceased little rat bastard purveyor of vile practical jokes perpetrated on sleeping victims. The sort of nasty fucker that would ask someone out for a fight and punch them in the back of the neck on the way out.

Rick – stick thin ginger bloke, who we should have called “the ginger ninja” due to the fact he was very very good at Tai Kwan Do.

So the 25 arrived in Ilford, which was now crawling with Mods also looking for a bus home and all the other passengers on the bus stared at their green coated masses.

“Right! Our stop – lets go!” said Sage and got up. We were on the top deck and as we stoop up and (I hate to admit this) swaggered down the isle, the passengers actually fucking applauded us!

Someone even shouted -

“Go get ‘em lads”

They obviously thought they were witnessing a modern day “Charge of the Light Brigade”

Part two of this may follow, if I can be arsed, at some future date.

A few things I said I was not going to do today are about to go by the wayside.

1 - not go down the pub. I am, so there.

2 - not have a "funny" mood. Too late.

I am as bored as a cheese sandwhich and have nothing to do. Well I am getting a few calls from disgruntled customers but they can talk to the voice mail and I will get back to them (honest)

I am not having a funny mood today - no I am NOT. I have decided.

Even though I am bored and NOT having a funny mood I have absofuckinglutely nothing to say. I have seen nothing even vaugley interesting happening on the streets so far during my numerous ciggie breaks, no one has come up to me and asked me anythign stupid, and I have not done anything silly.

and I am not having a funny mood today. not not not. Not going down there again.

Oh no.

Did I say I'm also bored?

Can't be bothered anymore. Fuck it.

Talk tomorrow in all probability, my dear 0.5 of a reader.

Having huge heaps of nothing to do all over my desk today, I thought I would have a quick squint on Wikipedia regarding Budapest.

Hmmm, very interesting - but a bit short on "go here for a good time and say Vladimir sent you" information.

Looks like my memory card in the camera is gonna get a bit full, as there seems to be much to point and click at.

Can't we go NOW S&F?

Purleeeeeeeeeeeeeez!

huh?

Bugger.

Gonna drink myself nuts on black coffee.

Shunning the delights of the pub for one lunch time, I went for a wander round Soho in the light rain. How romantic of me right?

Bollocks, I don't do romantic remember?

They do seem to be digging most of it up at the moment, so lots of colourful language from lines of trapped motorists waiting for diggers to get out of the way.

The rain has caused a general outbreak of wet weather gear, so no sights of great beauty were beheld.

Except for the very attractive "lady of negotable affection" sitting on a chair in the doorway of her flat, leaning foreward with her elbows on her knees, creating a very nice "shop window" effect with her wonderous cleavage.

So. No celebs spotted, no nutters doing very weird stuff, and no more blokes dressed as faireys. So nothing to report really.

I'll get me coat.

Done.

All of it.

All the work I had to do today. Finished it is - and why have I gone Yoda?

Nevermind. What exactly am I going to do now to occupy myself?

No, I am not doing THAT - I am in the office!

I know! ciggie break then hunt round Utube for some good rocking stuff.

the pub is off limits due to the amount of travel I have coming up this month. I need to save my money to squander in other cities. Ho well. You never know, I may come up with something interesting to write.

Yeah OK, you can stop laughing now.

Got a bit of work to get out of the way today, send some pillock a report he will do nothing with till the information is so out of date him doing anything with it is pointless, you know the sort of thing.

And then.....

Well the boss is out, which means all my workmates are adopting that "using the internet" stance at their desks.

You know, the chin resting on hand with elbow on desk while outher hand rests on the mouse pose that just screams "I am not working"

So I may be back.

A bit.

Just got to send a few emails first.

Was going to post this earlier but the site died AGAIN!

Stood outside this afternoon having a ciggie, and I saw across the street a man in his 20's tottering along with a film crew in tow. He was dressed neck to ankle in bright pink lycra, had a blond wig on his head, a pink tutu round his waist and a paif of Fairy wings on his back.

Did I think "What the fuck is he doing?" did I think "What the fuck are they doing?" No.

I thought "Those burgundy heels reeeely clash with that pink"

I may have been working in central London too long!

I watched "The top 50 actors of all time" on More4 at the weekend, a lazy bit of telly for a lazy night on the sofa, and was struck by something rather strange.

Has anyone else noticed how much Helena Bonham-Carter and Johney Depp look alike - especially around the eyes!

Is that why Johney gets so much work from Mr Bonham-Carter (Tim Burton)?

Well OK, just travel but it got your interest eh!

Actually "Sex and travel" was what one of our old singers used to say to me when he meant "fuck off" - charmer that he was.

ANYWAY!

I have just realised that I am off to Budapest in SIX DAYS! blimey that came around a bit sharpish! What am I going to pack (not a lot - just a back pack to carry onto the plane so no fecking about waiting for suitcases at the other end) When will I get currency? Shall I do my normal trick of borrowing cash of S&F when we get there and paying them back when I find a cash machine? Well they are better organised than me so take advantage eh?

And just a week after I get back from there, I am going with S&F, Jo and Sarah up to Edinburgh to see the Moff! Just be there for a couple of nights but it will be fun.

Then the very weekend after that - tis off to Birmingham to see Padders and Bradders in the flesh as it were. Hotels sorted and vaccinations done, ready to return to the land of my mothers birth. And get drunk. a bit.
(and I am reeeeely looking forward to seeing them and anyone else who turns up!)

Busy month but it should be entertaining at the very least.

Shock, horror and fucking Eeeeeeeeeeep!

Mollys – my little tiny booze bolt hole that does the Drag acts in the evening (not that I have EVER been in there in the evening) has chosen today to go NON-SMOKING!

Bugger!

No more gazing out the window enjoying a cigarette as the world wanders by, while savouring a “Beautiful British Pint” (C- The pub landlord 2006)

Now I have been to Edinburgh and not had my enjoyment of the many fine pubs spoilt by the fact that you can’t smoke in any of them, Hey – I do obey some rules you know. But it was a bit of a surprise to walk into Mollys and have The boy from Brasil behind the bar give me the look that normally means “Our beer delivery is late again and we have not draft beer” only to find out he was saying sorry that I could no longer try to kill myself by smoking some while before the whole of England goes non smoking public place styleee.

Now personally, I have been a non-smoker for quite a few large parts of my life and will be again one day. But personally I would prefer it if the Pubs could choose if they went non-smoking or not.

But what the fuck. That is the way it is going to be so I will just live with it.

But.

I may have to go and check out the new “Intrepid Fox” so I can smoke for a few weeks more AND not have to listen to my mp3, as the Fox is a full on rock pub.

I have just signed 107 letters to go out to customers. None of that laser scanned signature nonsense for this poor impoverished office.

As a result my right hand is knackered.

This could cause a number of problems, like me having to “eat my lunch” with my left hand when in Mollys.

But what if I have a Ker-Bear moment and fancy a Sherman?

I may have to call for volunteers.

Ahem.

And so to, I think has my bottom! Well there does appear to ba a gas leak so a crack is possible I suppose. Did spend a lot of time sitting on it over the weekend, wear and tear - you know how it is.

Look, you have been reading this blog for long enough to not expect shakespere! - you want good writing go see any number of other blogs!

Just popped in to say Hi and good morning before "enthusiastically plunging" into my work for the day.

Give it an hour and I might be back AND I may have thougth of something to say.

Ahem.

Well I tried.

Bank holiday boredom struck so I have been trying to play each guitar I have for at least half an hour.

Good plan but I forgot how much heat a Marshall Amp puts out!

So after a couple of hours it was getting way too hot in here so I had to keep going and getting a cold drink. Just to cool off you understand.

still the hot valves won and I abandoned the room to let it cool down. What did I do to cool off - went and cooked a roast dinner!

Yeah that helped.

So now I am going to haul myself up on the sofa and (with another cold drink in hand) watch some rubbish on E4 about the worlds best actors. Yes, another lazy bit of TV - get a load of talking head lovies in to vote for the best actor in the world and compile a chart.

It cant be that good, I heard Robert Wagners name mentioned.

Anyway.

Thats' how I am going to waste the last part of the bank holiday.

Talk to you all tomorrow maybe.

I wish I did not feel so stupid and unable to help some people I care about. I just know I will never understand or be able to help no matter how much I want to.

I understand a lot of other things. Other problems people have had or are having as I have some understanding of them myself.

Makes you feel totally usless and patronising and infefectual and totally fucking stupid.

But I still want to help.

As it is wet and the nipper is getting wrestles, Jo has rummaged around in the spare room and found something to amuse Sarah with.

Unfortunatley its one of those small keyboard things you could wear round your neck like a guitar, (which Jo used to play in a band we were in) and Sarah and Jo are now running through all the sounds available and making a jolly racket in the other room.

Aslo lurking up behind the keyboard was something else that used to be big in the 80s' Jo's old pair of thigh length leather boots with the turn down bit at the top - very piratey.

Hmm, may have to ask her to try them on again later.

ahem.

It is grey and wet, typical Bank holiday Monday weather - And Sarah and I have just watched a crap Dynosaur movie on the telly "The Land that Time Forgot" starring Troy Doug Mclure.

Now apparently there is "Quo Vadis" - a biblical epic in case you don't know - showing on BBC 2 for most of the rest of the afternoon, so the bank holiday is finally showing its true colours.

All we need is some Bond and it would be "perfect"....

Later I am going to be cooking a proper Roast beef dinner for us, as Jo and I realised we have not done one for ages. I get a chance to make my wonderful Yorkshire Puddings, and stuff my face with beef when I am supposed to be carving.

I was even thinking of clearing some of the mess out of the music room, there are discarded string packets, old guitar magazines and CDs' all over the place.

Hmmmm, maybe not.

A large glass of red wine, a "seafoam" green telecaster plugged into the tonelab and the Marshall and Planet Rock on the dab radio.

The world is a much better place now.

Mind you I could do with a blow job

Everything cool with all of you?

Can't stand them reeeely. Rubbish on the telly, everything shut and erm, rubbish on the telly.

Get a life man!

So, I think a squint round youtube, a look at msn (mrs F is beeping me constantly as I type - shuddap woman!) and then another glass of something refreshing and a play of one of my many guitars.

Then maybe watch one of the pirates of the carribean films again.

It's a busy whirl I live in no?

Oh shut up!

I just realised, next weekend is the total Wogan fest that is EUROVISION!

And as we all know, every country trys to copy the winning entry from the year before.

So after years of songs with a "tribal/eastern european" drum beat, we should have shit loads of heavy metal bands trying to emulate Lordi's win last year.

WELL BRING IT ON BABY, LETS ROCK!

Mind you, people say germans have no sense of humour, but if you have been watching Eurovision for the past couple of years you know that is not true! Some of there acts have been Hysterical!

So, next Saturday night I will be sitting on the sofa, Sarah and Jo permiting (why do women take up so much bloody room on a sofa) with a supply of "energy" drinks and snacks, and we will laugh and point and giggle.

And of cours, Mr Wogan will take it all sooooo seriously.

As shall we.

Ahem.

Have I Reeeeeeely just given advice about which vibrator to keep and which one to save OR what sort of battery powered implement of pleasure you sould be seeking to someone I have NEVER spoken to before on the blog?

Feck.

It must be the weekend then.

Hoooooooooooo boy.

I would just like to say....

Bollocks!

hehehehehehehehehe.

OI! Cheif petty officer Walrus! Drink! Now!

WAKE UP!

I gotta go home soon.

Blimey, you can't get the staff ya know.

I feel a mutiny coming on.

If I could spell it I'd be worried.

Mwaaah to the world.

"No fuck off, you have two or three bloody degrees in various subjects so you ARE a smart person!"

"But you got a distinction when we did the Egyptology course and I only got a merit"

"BUT you got a "evening class" masters degree in your spare time, to go with the other two or three fucking big "blimey I gotta were a silly hat with a tassle in the photo" edumacational type bollocky shit wank degree stuff things. Soooo you am smarterer than meeee. and I think I may be drunked."

"Well because you are a fucking lazy pissed off drunk fuck up nutter cunt that hates further education because of all the shite you had at your scummy old school, It just shows that you do actually have a brain"

"Erm, show us your tits?"

SPANK!

"In that case, another drink please!"

"MR WALRUS!"

How to see if you are drunked.

(Warning - this may only work if you are of "a certain age")

Put "the guns of Navarone" by the Skatallites on the hifi (or get on the net and find it you techy gifted young bastards)

If you say -

"Ahh, "The guns of Navarone" theme done in a ska styleee" you are sober, of a certain age, and a tad pretentious. All is well.

It you say -

"Blimey! the theme from Z-Cars done reggae style" you are still "of a certain age" but are also "with drink". Be careful.

If you say -

"Yay - It's "In a big country" by Big Country" you remember the 80's and are a bit more drunkered

If you say -

"Yay! I remember live aid - it's "feed the world" you am as pissed as a hamster in a tumble dryer and should head for your nearest casualty department for a quick gut pump and some sedatives.

Just so you know.

ahem.

Chris Bryant music, which had a lickle shop in Manette Street, has moved to a bigger shop about 80 feet away on the Charing Cross road. The old shop was just next to “The Crow Bar” a small rock club that is open till about 3-ish in the morning at the weekends.

(You remember the Crow Bar right? It was the place I told you about where I went when I got marooned in London after one of the London blog drink ups and saw a load of bald headed, goatee bearded, tattooed biker types spanking each others beer belies really hard with a fly swatter? What! Don’t you people ever listen!)

So anyway, walking back from Mollys today I saw some guys fitting a new set of signs to the frontage, and joy of joy, they said “Vince Ray” (google him!)

OH YES! A shop full of cool t-shirts and stuff with groovy tattoo style devils heads, cars, flames and stuff on them!

Yay! No more will I have to trek down to Camden Market and go to “The Black Rose” to get cool t-shirts.

Of course, a middle aged bloke of 44 has no right to be wearing cool t-shirts anyway, but what the hell.

Good news - The new letter we are supposed to use is on the shared drive and we can do some work! (Yayyyy/Boooooo)

Bad news - The shared drive has just crashed so we can't access the letter! (Yayyyyy/Boooooooo)

Whatever.

Must be time for lunch.

Bored and fed up here, even though the "new letter" is available for us to use now. Yep this mornings pottering round the blog and youtube has sapped my "vast" store of motivation away.

Wanna get out and have a cold one, view the view, listen to some music and relax.

Then this afternoon see if I can get the new damn letter thing to work and print out on the right printer.

Exciting all this work stuff innit!

But you will be killed if you say it to them.

The one that I just love to hear is

"I like that T-shirt on you, it makes you look slim"

EH? so all the others make me look fat?

Thanks a bunch.

Ho Hum.

I know I have said I am reeeeely busy here recently. And I was – technically still am.

BUT

As mentioned yesterday, our wonderful managers have changed how we work and we now have to send out a different letter to the customers. They told us this yet did not think it wise to actually finalise the damn letter BEFORE saying “this is how we do it now”

So we are all sitting here waiting for the letter to be done so we can get on with our work. This will create another backlog, and of course the management genius who came up with this format will be moaning about us not getting the work done.

You can’t win really can you?

So expect a lot of bollocks from me on here as I strive to fend off boredom.

You have been warned.

Friday is here, as I am sure you have noticed.

Not even had the first coffee of the day yet so who knows what the day holds. Some of you out there (points boney digit at screen) seem a bit down. I really hope your day gives you something to smile about.

I have just realised that due to the mp3 battles I have been having these past two nights - I have not played a guitar in anger for ages!

Eeeeep!

I will have to see about sorting that out tonight.

Before the drink kicks in and renders me all beginer.

There is a theory (called, if I remember correctly the “many worlds theory”) that states that there are many universes running parallel to “ours”. Some of these universes “are” totally alien but human, some only a fraction different to out own. They could be 99.9% the same except for one little fact.

Now.

IF they are that similar, would you notice if you passed from one to the other?

MAYBE you already have.

You know those conversations round your friends house or in the pub, “Whatever happened to so and so?”

“He/she’s dead now right?”

“Nah, bollocks – they are retired and living (wherever)”

“but I heard a report of their death on the Radio last year – I’m sure of it”

“Bollocks!”

And you argue and they tell you that the celeb in question is still alive and it is only resolved by looking up their biog on that there Internet thingy. And you see you were wrong. You did not hear that report, or see that article YOU KNOW you heard or saw.

Maybe you have just taken a little trip one universe to the left.

MANAGERS! TOTAL ****TS not my line manger who is a poor soul trapped between us and the upper manager type TWATS!

Who have decided to help us get the backlog cleared (that THEY created by taking on too much without talking to us to see if it was possible to do) they are going to make us do our jobs less efficiently to speed the process up. Never mind all the angry customer that are going to call up AND HAVE A GO AT US! NOT YOU YOU BASTARDS!

So I am taking my evil bastard MP3 player - which incidentally refused point blank to talk to the pc last night and had to be re set and re filled with music JUST BECAUSE IT KNOWS HOW ANGRY IT MAKES ME! - down the pub with a copy of Classic Rock Magazine.

So damn well there.

Hmmph.

Pidgeons with machine guns

Babies on stilts

Female Morris Dancers

Clowns in lifts

And the fact that I have opened my last packet of cheap holiday Cigarettes.

Eeeeeep

Where DO they go in the winter?

(this post has been scanned for sexism and went off the scale. sorry)

Got all the new tracks loaded onto my MP3 last night, and it would appear that the problem was with the music manager software that came with it. It was upgraded and the version I had would no longer connect to the internet for song titles and such. Nice of them to tell me that. So a free download (which took most of an evening last week) later and the little bugger works now.

And is full of rocking tunes and such. OK and some miserable ones as well - but I need light and shade OK!

Thank you for your helpful comments by the way

Now I have to wade throught he mountain of work on my desk. But at least I can do it to music.

Home again and sitting in the pc room with my old adversary.

"Look you bastard MP3 - I am going to put some songs on you whether you like it or not. Don't you dare get your mate the pc to help out in driving me nuts ya bastard because if you do - this time you will be going in the fishpond OK!"

I could be gone for some time.

This is NOT a hangover.

But this is a large cup of coffee.

And my mouth did taste like it had had a French exchange student living in it for a month when I woke up. But that is neither here nor Clapham.

Any way.

I was going to say something profound, stirring and riotously funny but I am all a blank.

Bugger.

Hope you are all having a morning, at the very least - and a good one if you can manage it.

Hmm, might need a pony as well soon.

It's good to share information right?