Area 136

Gonna veg out with a few vodkas on the sofa and watch Arnold Swartzanegger save the world from the devil in "End of Days". May be a bit crap, but it is something to watch.

I could watch Bram Stokers Dracula again, but am not in the mood for watching a romantic film.

Watched it at Christmas and it nearly mad me blub. But in my defence I was drunk.

Have a good evening.

No wait a minute!

Let me explain.

Went to my daughters school fete this afternoon. The theme of this events was pirates, which basically meant that all the people (mostly women) working the various stalls had pirate headscarfs on. Oh how imaginative. Anyway, back to the title.

Now if I was a woman with large boobs, I would obviously be aware of this fact. Well I would not be able to miss them really. And if I was said woman, and I had volunteered to work on one of the tombola stands for an afternoon I would think to myself "Hmmm, gonna be spending an afternoon bending forward handing a box of tickets to short little kids. What shall I wear?"

I would probably not think a low cut top that showed off my impressive cleavage was a good idea.

Or maybe I would.

Well whatever, this woman certainly brightend a few bored dads afternoons.

Ahem.

Someone has just driven an car into the terminal of Glasgow airport - the car then burst into flames.

Oh fuck.

We once again live in interesting times.

Oh look, it must be the weekend because I have started to shed friends.

Yes, on logging on just now I was dismayed to see the the number of friends on this blog was down by two.

FUCK!

I know kers last post was a bit ominous, but why burn everything AGAIN and go?

A break maybe would have been better.

oh sod it.

I'm gonna play my guitar.

For reasons I will not be going in to (as I cant remember them) while we were sitting round the table eating our version of shipscooks Chicken and pasta thingey, (and very nice it was too) Sarah repeated "ABC" a couple of times and Jo, for some reason started to sing

"when you read you begin with A B C"

and sarah gigled like mad, so I sang

"When you sing you beging with Doe Rae Mee!" in a big operatic styleee

Sarah is having hysterics now, along with Jo, so I continue in my best cod opera voice

"The first three notes just happen to be, Doe Rae mee"

and as a quick aside I said to Jo

"Blimey I know all the words, am I gay?"

Quick as a flash Sarah says

"You can't be gay daddy, youve got mummy!"

Which made Jo and I roll around hysterically!

Bloody kids.

Well appron really but I am not sure if I spelt that right. Dyslexic pillock that I is.

So, off now to put "How the west was won" by Led Zep on the cd player in the kitchen, and tackle on of Mr S's (shipscook) recipies for chicken pasta wossname.

Crack open the wine/vodka and play with sharp knives and hot implements!

What could possibly go wrong?

Later possibly, if I still have all my fingers!

In other news, got out of London OK, they appear to be finding more bombs!

Glad I go in and come out of town early.

My charming wife, just told me that the reason she has been a bit emotional is due to her getting into the old PMT zone.

"Oh great" I said. "I will be spending an evening with a drunk pmt-ish woman, that'll be fun. Might have to blog that"

To which she has just replied:

"Go ahead, you attention / sympathy seeking whore! I'll be just your luck that all your other female friends have PMT too! he he he xxx"

This morning some of my work mates were delayed on their journey to this temple of happyness by diversions to the busses. This was due to the car bomb that was found in central London this morning.

Now a friend of mine who also works in London has just said loads of police cars are whizzing by there place of work, and has wondered what is going on.

Have they found another one?

Just going to have a check on the news sites.

Not that I am concerned at all. Who the fuck would start a war on a Friday after all.

As my hand fell upon the glowing brass handle of the bar, the skys opened in spectacular fashion.

"yes you shall stay in there for an hour" said the weather gods.

So I did.

I had a couple of pints and a read about Big cats in Australia, Ghosts in Essex boozers and a dead Monk in tibet. As ya do.

And for the last time in this lifetime, sat in an British boozer with a pint and a cigarette.

When it was time to leave, the sky was blue and the sun was out.

Ah well.

That's that then.

As the smoking ban is almost here, I am taking my last chance to sit in a pub during my work lunch break, with a pint (or two) and have a ciggie as I flick through my magazine.

Tis the end of an era, I am going out to mark its' passing.

No, no. I just have a touch of hayfever today.
(wipes tear from corner of eye, gathers up mp3 player and magazine, heads for the door)

Will be one of ships cooks Chicken and Pasta with other stuff chucked in dishes. Stolen from his very site. The advantage of this dish is that it is all done in one big pan, no separate pan for doing the pasta in. Save washing up!

The other ingredients that cooky uses in his dishes are selected by the most rigorous of means, which normally include the two of us standing in the kitchen drinking Martinis while he rummages through the fridge.

“Hmm, this is nearing its use by date – I’ll stick a bit of this in”

Anything approaching its date that would in no way go in whatever dish he is cooking is normally eaten as a “bar snack” by us as we chat.

So tonight the Mrs and I will crack open the big bottle of Soave that is recommended in the recipe and try to recreate this dish.

And yes. I am missing Mrs F, ships cook and Moff like mad.

ARE YOU GEORGE BERNARD!

Blimey, 90 minutes with no blog, on a Friday?

Whatarewegonnadonow

Whatarewegonnadonow

Whatarewegonnadonow

Whatarewegonnadonow

My brain is full of the tadpoles of confusion who come to play when coffee is scarse.

Had a bit of a job dropping off and getting to sleep last night for some strange and unfathomable reason.

And now I must, reeeeeeeeeely must throw myself at my work.

Sorry I was a bit scarse during the last two parts of the virtual party last night. I have a virtual hangover, having woken up behind the marquee this morning with very little memory of what virtually happenedededid.

Have a good Friday.

The fucking Spice Girls have reformed!

HUGEGREATLUMPSOFBOLLOCKYSHITWANK!

I hate having so much work to do.

It gets in the way of my blogging!

Sorry I have missed things through not being able to catch up properly (like people saying it is there birthday today) and

OH SHIT!

has Pauls party started yet?

Damn! Fuck shit and bus tickets!

Why are we so busy!

5 questions and tag five people (as I am a bit late with this I assume most of you have done it so I wont tag anyone - just consider yourself tagged if you have not done this already ok?)

1 When in doubt - whip it out!

2 - The most Tagalicious blogger is - erm, well the one with the most tags? Landers or Juzzy probably.

3 - Given half a chance, I would - Stop working and travel the world, start recording some songs and buy a pirate ship.

4 - I'd rather be - not balding.

5 Who knew that - you could get all that in there.

Now I should reeeeeeely get on with some work

When you move suddenly and get an attack of the wobbles (ie the room and bed start to spin very quickly and you feel like your falling to the left and off the bed) It is pointless trying to steady yourself by grabbing hold of someone who is covered in baby oil.

ahem.

It being my pc and the romans shagging (and killing) are on tv in "rome"

I have had the "blue screen of death" tonight once already and it is being a total tortoise (even freezing up as I type this) so I may not be able to catch up on everything I want to.

An eventful day today. Full of stuff I can't mention or I would have to kill you blah blah blah.

A meeting about the brand new sparkly way we are going to be doing our jobs. Which of course is being rushed in, untried, with hardly any proper processes in place, just to keep us on our toes.

They must have thought we looked bored. No you fools, that is the look of a room full of people suffering from work induced depression! Except me. I just sit there like a torettes sufferer and say all the wrong things to all the wrong people.
It makes me laugh! sorry.

In other news,

Noticed earlier on a bottle of baby oil "Keep out of reach of children"

Eh?

No not wanking you vile minded filth hounds.

Greybags did a post earlier about a new digital camera he is thinking of getting. This started me thinking about how so much general stuff only exists in digital form.

For example, I have some old photos of my dad in the navy during the second world war – just mucking about with his mates on the ship and posing for the camera. If they had been taken on a digital camera, I would probably not be able to look at them now as the technology then would be incompatible with what we would have in the present day. Unless they had been printed out they would have been lost. I know that the vast majority of the pictures I have taken with my digital camera only exist on disk or on the hard drive of my pc. As computer technology advances so fast, I am either going to have to print them all out or get rid of them or spend the rest of my life copying them from one memory stick thing to another as the technology moves on.

There are books in the British Library that were written by hand in the 1600’s. Although we need someone to translate them from Latin or whatever, we can still “access the data”. The Library has been collecting articles and prose from the web, but already they are having trouble finding ways to read the older stuff and have to keep transferring it onto new systems. But they are having trouble keeping up as they have so much of it.

Are we in danger of loosing all our digitally stored memories and thoughts as the tech side speeds off into the future?

All you need to know really.

Be there or be cuboid.

Remeber watching rental videos?

The bit on the front that said "don't you dare watch pirate copies of videos you naughty naughty poeple!"

Remeber how you could fast forward through that bit, and all the bloody logos of the production companies?

WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU DO THAT ON DVD'S!

press "next" "FFWD" "top menu" and all you get is the little sign up in the top left corner that means "no - fuck off"

bastards! give me the movie NOW!

Anyway. Off now to watch Lee Majors little brother - Gill Grissom - foil the bad guys in CSI and cop off with a younger woman.

Older men flirting and getting off with younger women! bloody disgusting if you ask me.

ahem.

G'night.

For some reason my mobile phone decided to pick up all the texts sent to me during the course of today, in one lump, at half past four!

Bastard.

So I missed a message from a blogger of this parish, telling me to tell you that she had been stuck in liverpool overnight, without a change of clothes, and without a credit card, after picking up her new passport. This was due to not being able to get a train over them there pennines mountain thingeys due to shite weather.

The Holiday inn would not let her book without a credit card, would not take her husbands credit card over the phone when he called, and finally let her pay for a room for the night in cash. Lovely helpfull people that they are.

Who said LLWNTS!

Anyway, I believe that she has now got home safe, only a day after setting out.

Sorry for my phone effing about ker-bear.

So there ya go.

Jo and I where watching the Grahame Norton show thing at the weekend. One of his guests was Alice Cooper.

Alice was talking about the fact that on his latest tour he is putting all the theatrical stuff back into the show after a period of doing stripped down straight rock shows. The hanging is back, the guilotine, that stabbing people - all the good stuff. And he mentioned that he is only doing one gig in England at wembley.

I may have made some comment to Jo about the fact that I have seen him do a full on show at wembly years ago and it was very good - especially the bit where he stuck a mike stand right through one of the people on stage! nice touch.

So anyway when I got home yesterday, Jo told me to go look at what she had printed out on the printer.

It was two tickets to see Alice Cooper, Motorhead and Joan Jett and the Blackhearts at Wembley in November!

Blimey - I'm actually going to a proper gig!

Just like the old days!

J, a woman in our office who I have mentioned before, is standing at the windows at the back of the room here on the forth floor and peering avidly out.

Why? she is looking at the builders on a site next door. Bad girl.

But as she stands very close to the window, with her frankly huge boobs almost touching the glass, chaps in the office behind ours have started to notice. You can almost read there lips.

"Christ look at those!"

"oh wow"

and so on.

Should I mention this to her?

Nah.

I was watching a film last night on Channel 4 – I know, I really know how to live huh? And once again found myself getting annoyed by one of my pet hates. Volume differences between the film and the ad breaks!

When the film was on I had to turn it up to hear the dialog clearly yet when the adverts started they were deafening! Good excuse to sit for a couple of hours playing with the remote but it does get on my nerves.

Another thing that bugs the hell out of me in films and TV shows is the volume of the incidental music. For example a couple of weeks ago the Dr was running around trying to avoid getting eaten by cannibals and get a rocket ship to launce. Lots of action and dialogue explaining what he was doing BUT it was nearly drowned out by the pounding music and FX! For Christ’s’ sake someone spent time writing this stuff to explain what is going on so why drown it out!

I remember watching the first LOTRs film on DVD and having to put subtitles on when they were talking about Gollum while sat in the mines of whatever the fuck it was called. The reverb and echo on the voices (to portray the vastness of the caves they were in) made all of it almost impossible to follow. It may have sounded OK in the cinema coming out of loads of surround speakers but it was a mess in stereo.

I think the sound guys just get carried away showing off and forget that the effects and music should not get in the way of the dialogue.

Rant over.

Go about your business and enjoy.

I have heard this more than enough over the past days in this office

"Blimey it's really raining outside!"

Where else would it fucking well be raining numbnuts!

"England goes smoke free in six days!"

Oh really.

In seven days I get loads of cheap ciggies from Crete!

So UP YOURS!

I will be outside.

Smoking loads of fags

Well lust after as she used to be anyway.

Tis some time long ago, as you can tell by the fact I am in a grubby rehearsal room with a band. The walls are orange and covered in Hessian stuff and padded to deaden echo and keep the mice in high-rise living quarters.

The band has just ground to a halt as we have lost our way in the song we are trying to learn. Sometimes it is more like rehearsing your mistakes than actually learning new material, but ya gotta try.

Now someone, possibly me, starts to play the rock song we were just stumbling through in a Reggae style. The bass player picks it up and the drums and other guitarist come in, and we skank our way through a few bars grinning at ourselves.
It’s a good little tension breaker, and it has happened in every rock band I have ever been in. You fuck up the song, someone starts playing it reggae and you all join in for a laugh.

Kizlode is the singist on this occasion, and as we stop our little cross-pollination of musical styles he cracks open a beer and grins

“Do reckon there’s a reggae band in Jamaica playing a thrash metal version of “no woman no cry” now because they fucked it up?” he asked me.

Fair question.

Watching the Bike racing from Donninton yesterday..

My god Suzy Perry is HOT!

The tv programme, not the city. Well I would probably love the city if I ever went there but thats' by the by.

Or tiber.

Whatever.

The first episode had some classic lines in it (swearing warning!)

For example

"I am not rising from this bed till I have fucked someone!"

"Mark Antony is a cunt"

This weeks best line

"Mark antony buggers little boys like you for his mid morning snack!"

Classy stuff.

... of Glastonbury and Wimbledon are doing there sterling work on the weather here in the suburbs of East London, and it is raining almost constantly.

Not the best weather for the weekend but so what.

I have an empty house and a rock radio station and a guitar and the internet.

Sorted!

Saw a programme during the week where families had there tvs' taken away for a month, to see if the kids would change there behaviour and if the families would become closer. Don't know about the outcome as I only saw bits of it as I wandered in and out. Jo and Sarah watched it.

"Do you not think it's strange you two sitting on the sofa glued to a programme about stopping people being glued to the tv?" I asked as I went by.

"eh?" said the vegetables on the sofa.

Oh well.

But is telly that bad? Most of it is absolute rubbish but I have learnt quite a bit from tv. I watch a lot of wildlife docs and science programmes. History docs and stuff always seem to pull me in. Except for recent months as I watch tv a bit less.

But I almost got my head round string theory once thanks to tv. OK, half an hour after watching the programme it was out of my head, but it was a good programme. I have found out about the weather on other planets in the solars system, found out how people in south america like to cook at the weekends, That the bloke with the arrow in his eye in that tapestry thing is probably not King Harold, that the first powered flight was probably not made by ther wright brothers, listened to a lot of scientists tell me that all of this could just be a very advanced computer simulation and not real at all (no I was NOT watching the matrix by mistake)

Loads of stuff.

So depending what you watch, its not all bad.

My ears hurt! and it's all thanks to my Hotplate.

No, I have not been falling asleep and burning my hearing appendages on the cooker, I have been using this

This is a Hotplate power attenuator, which basically takes the electrical output from an amplifier (that would normally go direct to the speakers) and dissipates it as heat. Then you use the dials on the front to regulate the volume that goes to the speakers. This means that you can have your valve amp up full, which makes the valves in the output section work hard and distort more, while keeping the volume down to reasonable levels.

But,

As Jo and Sarah are out, I turned the attenuation down- which turns up the volume.

Oh boy, was that fun! Volume levels that make things dance around on tables! notes going on forever! feeling the riff your playing hitting you in the chest!

All the good things about playing guitar loud, but still not as loud as you would play at a gig or rehearsal. A drum kit being played would have drowened out the amp BUT in a house it was stupidly loud.

and a lot of fun.

And yes, they are the legs of a nine inch tall Cyber man you can see behind it.

And speaking of that, it's almost time for Dr Who.

Is what I am about to eat.

so there.

Friday night was different, as you may have noticed by the fact that there was no drunken silliness on here from yours truly, and no one got a text at 05.30 in the morning.

Jo and I had a wok out in the kitchen with the, erm Wok. Did chicken with peanuts and to go with it, steamed meatballs and egg fried rice.

All came out well and tasty, but I think I really prefer cooking and eating mediteranian style food.

Must be a bit of bubble in me somewhere.

Was taken by a fit of the wobbles during the preparation bit, I think due to the fact I had a headache which makes the wobbles worse. So I sat down and shelled the peanuts for a while till I felt better. (and DO NOT start nagging about doctors! I feel much better today.)

Then Jo and I snuggled up on the bean bag in the music room listening to planet rock, chatted, and stuff.

So not a mad drunken rampage of sillyness. But it was nice.

I also checked the number of friends on my friends list in case anyone had done the traditional weekend "AAAARGH FUCK IT!" delete blog and go thing.

Seems OK so far.

But we still have tonight my pretties!

Have a good day and try to stay dry.

...somewhere over there I think.

Anyway.

You will all be pleased to learn that I will not be up till five in the morning texting and ruining your sleep, or spouting drunken rubbish on the net till all hours tonight (there goes "best drunken blogger 07")

No. As you know it is only the terrible influence of Mrs F and Shipscook (and occasionally the Moff) that makes me do such terrible things.

ahem.

Tonight the plan is simple. We will be attempting to cook Chinese steamed meatballs, and possibly Chicken with Cashew nuts. We being me and Jo - Sarah will be on dancing around like a nutter duty and generally going "can I help" or "Urgh!" depending on what stage of the preparations we are at.

There will be some drinkies in there somewhere for me and Jo, and if I manage not to get drunk and splash hot fat up the inside of my forearm from the wok (which I have done - had a lovely burn mark for weeks) I may blog to let you know we have not all died of food poisoning.

Hope you all have a good evening whatever you plan to get up or down to and with whomever.

eh? nice sentance Wordsworth.

What was all that bollocks about not being able to convince your family that £3000 is a fair amount to pay for a les paul.

This only cost me £1299!

OK, I did spend over £100 on hand wound pickups for it, but that's not the point.

"If you spend it, it will come"

Or something.

Mrs F just emailed me to say hi.

She is enjoying cocktails as the sun sets, and as his her way, she said something rather naughty.

"Yes it is, and you do realise that last message went out as a post on your blog?"

I replied.

"Oh shit! did it really"

The gullible and rather tipsy Mrs F panicked.

"YES, its up on your site now and........Gotcha!"

I think, she is going to kill me when she gets back.

hehehehehehehe

As in "I have just eaten an entire packet of!"

Yummy.

Problem is, every time I belch the office is swamped by brazilian monkeys!

And there are some animals on this earth that that particular "hairstyle" just does not work on!

Eeeew!

I am avoiding Glasgow Steve.

Which is pretty hard as he sits next to me.

He has had his earphones in all day and been very very studiously getting on with work and saying nothing at all to anyone.

Why?

Well he called up yesterday asking for today as annual leave. But due to the amount of work we have on and the fact he had had Monday to Wednesday off already, he was turned down.

He is giving off those quiet, peacefull vibes that only volcanoes manage to radiate before they go BOOOOM!

Anyway, I am going to tip toe past for a cup of coffee.

First, thank you for the "advice" via text, comment and post about me going to the doctors. It's nice that you care.

I am still wobbly but not as bad as yesterday. Last night my head felt like it had been pumped full of lead. Sleeping in a bed that feels like it is being tipped up on its side everytime you move your head is an adventure, to say the least.

But it is getting better, so no need for a doctors visit.

I did try and play my guitar last night as someone suggested, but every time I looked down at the fret board I felt like I was falling off my chair. So I stopped doing that, as I don't really need to look at it as I play but old habits die hard the movie.

Or something.

Anyway.

I will NOT be going on about it any more.

Which means I will have to find something else to blog about in this event free area of London.

Talk to you tomorrow then.

Tonight in London we are all being urged to turn off all non-essential lights for an hour from 21.00. Some of the capitals biggest tourist spots are going to go dark as well – Buckingham Palace, St Pauls and even the neon signs in Piccadilly Circus will go off.

This is all to highlight the fact that if we all made an effort to save energy we could stop the polar bears crying and heal our environment. Or something.

The thing is that in the lead up to this great event, I have noticed loads of adverts for things that just seemed designed to waste energy. Things no one has mentioned turning off, or even pointed to as totally stupid energy wasting ideas.

Like Kettles with lights in them that change colour and make the water look pretty! Blue for cold and Red for boiled. What the hell do you need one of those for?

And air fresheners with fans in them that you plug in, waste energy, and feel good in the knowledge that your house no longer smells of the take away cartons in the bin you cant be arsed to chuck out, because the little electric fan is wafting summer meadow freshness around your abode.

And best of these (in fact a combination of the two) air fresheners with colour changing bulbs in! What the fuck is the point of that! A light show and a lovely smell. Oh well now that makes perfect sense.

So turning off the light in the hallway will make a ton of difference.

Oh right.

Bit of a long clip, but stick with it.

Today has been a bit like being off my face on Vodka.

But with none of the good bits - the euphoria, the laughing at everything, feeling good about almost everything.

But also with none of the bad bits - opening your gob and putting your foot in it, phoning people you shouldn't and annoying them, staying up till the next day here.

Mind you, the randome acts of wobbling and banging into walls are a bad bit, and I have that so I don't know what that proves.

As you can see, apart from that and work not a lot has happened today. See! I do need to go back to the old office and work there, you actually saw things that you could blog there, who wants to hear about the endless stream of bloody cyclists going down Old Street, and the fact that it is a bit windy out there.

Dull location = dull posts.

It's not me at all.

I am riveting, as you all know.

ahem.

And Hoxton is still full to the brim with Braxton Hicks.

No hang on that's something to do with pregnancy innit?

I meant Hoxton Pricks.

silly me.

Hmm, that was fun.

Just went into the toilets here just to have an empty before going for a lunch time stroll.

Walked into a cubicle, shut the door, undid my trousers and slid them down, as you do - it prevents so much unpleasantness - and sat down.

Well tried to, as I lowered myself down my head went forward and some bastard turned the cubicle 45 degrees to one side!

Well so it seemed

My naked arse was now heading for the gap between the seat and the wall and was only prevented from doing so by massed flailing of arms and elbows.

Once seated on the throne all returned to normal.

This balance thing is getting a bit silly.

Anyway and with that, I am off to have a walk around Hoxton and see if it is still full of twats.

Note to self. Mind the traffic - no sudden movements of the heeeed!

Ahh yes, my stars in the Metro this morning:

“Pisces.
It’s hard to concentrate today. Your fingers might be on the keyboard but your mind is in a world where love songs are playing on repeat. Oh well”

Excuse me? This is supposed to be for ME? Oh do fuck off! Everyone knows there is not a romantic bone in my body.

ahem.

In other news, my sense of balance is taking a day off. When I bent forward to pick up my towel in the bathroom this morning, the whole world went sideways and I fell into the wall. Oh cool. Did it twice in fact. “note to self, don’t bend over today” Advice I forgot when I got to Liverpool street station and bent forward to put my magazine in my bag. Wheeeeeeeeeee! welcome to the word of wobble! Said the world as it does. Managed not to fall over that time.

Right, going to try to be a busy little good worky type bloke today and get lots done. Or not. So may not be on much. Or not. Or something.

Anyway, back to my “healthy” breakfast of two cheese and onion rolls and a pint of chocolate milk.

Hey! It’s my stomach – I’ll put what I want in it!

Well I did consider changing my profile pick to the attack dog one earlier today, but skillful application of some lunch time beverages prevented it.

I must not let stupid things get to me, as life (well mine anyway) is far to short.

But, well. You know me.

I was once asked why I picked a dog as my header picture. The original black and white one was the first one I had. I just did, it seemed right. It seemed "me". The thing I like about dogs is - they are crap at hiding their feelings. Happy - wag the tail, Sad - droop the tail, ears and head, Angry - growl. No bollocks. And someone reminded me after I chose it that the goddes Diana has a dog with her at all times. And she must know what she's doing, being a Goddess and all.

Cats, well. I mean reeeeeely. Sneaky buggers.

So anyway, right now everything is fine and Jim (beam) dandy. OK single malt dandy. Just having a large medicinal one here in the music room, and the tobacco sunburst LP custom is sat across my lap getting a gentle fingering from time to time.

Ahem.

So now I am going to apply my foot to the volume pedal and move some air.

Goodnight.

The cellophane wrapper parts with a crackle, the thin cardboard top separates at the label revealing the shinnign inner foil, which pulls away with a quiet snap to reveal....

The last 20 Cheap cigarettes from Budapest.

Oh bumholes! the last pack of sub £2.00 ciggies is open.

Soon it will be back to crippling financial demands from newsagents - must hang on till Mrs F gets back with more cheap smokey goodness......

Must hang on......

must.......

The darker side of Pisces

"Manipulative, moody, unreliable and contradictory, you're one (sorry, two) slippery fish. You change your mind so frequently that others are worn out just being around you. One minute you're giving up smoking and the next you're asking for a light. That's another thing you're hopeless at - willpower.
When you're not leading others on a chaotic dance you can be found moping in a café. You have a crippling sense of martyrdom and like to take every opportunity to feel hard done by. Why must everyone put you under so much pressure? How were you to know you wanted a cappuccino when you asked for a latte?
Dating and relationships
You're not too picky when it comes to the dating game. In fact, you'll let anyone buy you a drink as long as they listen to your emotional sob story. Three glasses of wine later, you decide that the person sat opposite you is your soul mate, until that is, you fall in love with the waiter on the way back from the toilet.

You like to think of yourself as a hopeless romantic. The truth is that you're just plain hopeless. You drift in and out of relationships and like nothing better than to splash around in someone else's emotional depths for a change. If you should find an emotional anchor, hold on to them with all you've got."

So, there ya go. Not all Romance and artistry after all.

I have a headache.

DON'T GET IN MY WAY WHEN I LEAVE WORK.

you could quite possibly die.

And do not sit on the train with YOUR FUCKING BAG ON THE SEAT NEXT TO YOU LIKE IT PAID FOR A TICKET.

I may just sit on it.

AND DON'T THINK THAT BECAUSE YOUR ON A BICYCLE I WONT BE ABLE TO KNOCK YOU OFF ONTO YOUR ARSE IF YOU RUN A RED LIGHT AND NEARLY HIT ME.

me and Mr reasonable are not swapping emails or texts right now.

Well Mondays, some you win, some you just want to castrate and force feed their own genitals.

I don’t mean “work” as in doing something, but in “working for a living” for someone else!

Dumb dumb idea. Originally of course you had to “work” to live. You had to get up and hunt, or you would go hungry.

Later you had to get up and tend your animals and look after your crops, this was when us humans got fed up of trotting all over the shop and hurling sharp sticks or firing arrows at the rapidly retreating herds of animals who were alerted to our presence by our appalling body odour, deodorant and hot running water being thousands of years away.

Then you had to get up and work your patch of land that somebody else actually owned and this is were it all started to go tits up in my opinion. And how do you own land – its just there! It belongs to no one really.

Then the glorious industrial revolution fucked us all over. Did you know it was a stackable offence to be found with a watch on your person if you were working in a cotton mill or factory?

Why? Because you would be able to tell that the clocks on the factory floor ran slow during working hours, but sped up during your lunch break! Bastards!

Cornish tin miners had the best idea – work for half the year and get a stock of money behind you, spend the rest of the year in the pub having a laugh! But then they used to own their own mines so they could please themselves.

You must excuse me, I am having one of those “why was I not born rich” days.

Week two in this dismal little office. How many more to go - bloody loads!

The sky is a total Grey cloud, and I think it may just be raining for a change.

Oh joy.

And in other news -

Hot Fuzz is a fantastic film (watched it last night)

and I need a pony.

S&F and the Moff are about to touch down in Crete.

I miss them already.

Two weeks.

Oh well.

I hope they have a fantastic time.

If Mrs F forgets to bring back shed loads of cheap ciggies, I will of course disown her.

Feel a bit weird.

Oh well, gonna go watch my DVD of Hot Fuzz and have a little Drinkette.

Enjoy your evenings people.

Well all of you except AJ.

bastard.

James Allen, commentating on the US Grand Prix.

"It will be interesting to gauge Fernandos' erection erm reaction to that"

Hmmmm, oh reeeeely.

I will do this here instead of as a comment to Sweetymons blog as I planned.

Mon, you looked so cute in that hat, but who left my ickle Mon all alone in the middle of that big feild! Bad "boy"!

And now the "going to the toilet at festivals" story.

Us blokes have an advantage at such get togethers, as when we need a pee, we just need to find somewhere secluded to whip it out and go. As it were.

Donnington Monsters of Rock some time in the 80's. Myself and "the late" Mr Kelly are wandering round the stands and stalls when we see, through a gap in said stalls a number of blokes peeing into the grass and facing a transit van. Now we need to go as well, so we join the line of happy urinators and let rip. Now we are not peeing onto the van, just down into the grass by its side. Behind the van is the Donnington race track and lots of people are walking round it, just for fun.

As us five blokes stand there getting rid of the beer, I start to giggle. Not good form when standing with some strangers and having a piss.
Mr Kelly asks "Whats' so funny?"

"I was just thinking what would happen if the bloke who owns this van got in it and drove off while we're doing this! We would all be standing here with our dicks out in front of a race track full of people!"

And we all start laughing. Which is a bit silly when your peeing. Well, at least the van got its' wheels washed for nothing.

Ahem.

Every time I try to comment on sweeties blog it fucking times out!

This is a test to see what happens.

Damn my comments were sooooooo funny as well.

As normal

Ahem.

Coz you just might get it!

KOOOOOKIE!

Yes, after a comment I maid about the cookie monster on subs blog, yesterday Jo and Sarah bought me this from a stall at the church fair!

He even has a half eaten cookie in his right hand.

He will now take pride of place next to the 8 inch tall Cyber Man on top of my Marshall Amp in the music room.

God I'm such a big kid!

Right, now I'm off to clean the Paella dish (made one yesterday and it was, I have to say - Excellent) then I will come back with another coffee and catch up with all the goings on in this wonderful world we call blog.

And did anyone notice in Dr Who yesterday, when Captain Jack and Martha were talking about Jack and the Doctors history togther, that the Doctor turned round and said something like "Here we are at the end of the universe and you two are blogging!"

heheh.

TISWAS!

Bye!

Being dragged by the scruff of the neck out for lunch, and erm, what happened last night.

Oh yeah got drunk.

And spoke to a luverly person ay?

Oh shit - also perved up a fellow blogger via text NOT my fault, they mentioned the tradesmans entrance first!

got the phone put down on me by drunk friend. Just trying to help honest.

Erm, played guitar.

Had a good time with all here, its great to actually spend some time with Moff as well. Don't see her as much as I would like and she is very cool. Reminds me of "Nemi" in the cartoon in the Metro free newspaper.

Ate good food. Mr S give good chicken terayaki.

Tried to phone landers at the time he likes (sun up) and he just didn't want to know.

Je suis hartbroken matey!

Any way it has stopped pissing down so time for fishy style lunchy adventures.

As Ren and Stimpy used to sing

"Happy happy joy joy, happy happy joy joy, happy happy joy joy joy!"

Goodnight.

Erm, yeah. Right.

xxx

You know who it is (probably) on the other end of the ringing phone, and you do want to answer it. But - well, what if...

what if they don't like your voice. And what if you don't like their voice! Oh bugger.

But you know you are not really insecure and paranoid - you just help out when they are busy.

Ahem.

So the phone is passed to you, and....

You get to trade words with a person you have only been "talking" to for a few months and ...

Meno is SO nice!

AND young sounding. Not that I thought she would sound like Minnie Banister (a full 10 virtual points for the first person that can tell me who she was - Kiz, Shipscook, Mrs F are excluded from competing) but she had a voice full of youth and, well cheek actually in a very nice way. And charm. And warmth.

It was a total (but too short) pleasure. You are a diamond meno.

Mmwhah!

And thanks to hubbster for letting you burn the cash to talk to us.

Him a cool dooood.

Tonight I have

Had to wrestle my Les Paul out of the grasp of some very possesive cats.

Had some VERY interesting text messages about anal sex.

Discovered that some of the drinks we bought back from Hungary are far more palatable than others.

That in two days I am going to run out of cheap Hungarian ciggies. (thank fuck S&F and the moth are going to bring me back loads of cheap ciggies from their hols)

That the mistakes we think we stopped making when when we were young, are still being made by the young to this very day.

And yes, in defence of my "best drunken blogger" award, I would just like to say - I am hammered.

Just in case you thought I was loosing my touch.

You get a Les Paul, you get the pussey.

hehehehehe

Years ago I was returning home from a long night in a rock bar, a little the worse for wear. When I got to the front door I discovered, after much rummaging around in my pockets that I had forgotten my keys.

Looking in throuhg the letter box I saw our cat sat on the bottom of the stairs looking at me.

"Oi cat! open the door?"

I pleaded drunkenly. It just looked at me in a pitful way and said

"Me? Oww?"

Boom tish!

I thangyaw!

Thank god that's all done, time for a spot of lunch I think.

(Old Nick looks at watch)

FUCK!

Hardly bloody worth it as I am going at 4.

Could do the old "I worked through my lunch break so I am going early" bit.

But I want to have a nose round here first.
See what all you people with time on your hands have been up to.

After a quick walk and some ciggieness.

In other news.

Wibble.

And I want to PLAY.

On here I mean, I want to talk rubbish and sling smut and poke fun and get the mickey taken out of me and stuff.

And I want to know that someone is safe and well...

But work has jumped up and bit me in the arse so I have to actually do some.

and then some more.

this sort of thing should not be allowed on a Friday.

In other news, I am very worried. No PM. No post.

Enough! I hate being this busy at work.

Goes against all my principles. Yes, I DO have some you know.

After checking 128 lines of bollocks in the new file I created to check against the 128 lines of other bollocks in the file someone else created I have had enough.

So now I am looking for a distraction to take me up to 4 O'clock and then home to a single malt and guitars, wife and little Sarah.

Think I may go for a poke about on you tube.

Hope you all had a spectacleear day.

Standing out front of our office having a ciggie, when who should join me but one of our team, who I will call J.

J asks me if I will accompany her to the café down the road, as she is in need of bacon butty. Why does she need accompaniment? Because next to our office is a building site, and one of he guys working there is a total fucking prick when ever an attractive female goes by. He apparently tried to take off J’s engagement ring saying he would get her another!

I myself have seen him harass even accompanied females with comments and invasions of personal space. The man is a dickhead of the highest order.

So J and I crossed the road and went to the café. On the way back we were on the same side of the street and J spotted the dickhead in question. She slipped her arm round mine and held on. Now J is a fine figure of a woman with a pretty face, nice legs, a curvy bum and erm, well the biggest pair of boobs in the city. So naturally I protested.

Ahem.

So we walked past arm in arm.

He said not one word.

I did say to J that she should give him a big smile next time and say “what’s your name baby?” and when he tells her say “good, now I know who to report to the foreman of this site!”

She could just smack him one, but as she is studying for a law degree she can’t, as a possible assault complaint against her would ruin her chances.

So she just used me.

And I don’t mind at all.

But the point is, she shouldn’t have to.

Some men are just total fucking assholes.

Sorry Abs but I don't know how to link to your site.

Yes I am that befudled.

Anyway, here I am at about three years old. The first shot is a little out of season but what the hell.

The second is the proof that big sisters are the spawn of satan, and why you should always lock the door when on the toilet.

The picture is a little crumpled from me snatching it back from peoples hands when my parents used to show it to people.

I have never forgiven my sister for taking this.

I want you to remember it was not my fault I was born in Black & White.

I went into colour at infant and juniour school so I may have to find one of those. But they may be too old for Abi's age limit.

There is of course the classic school photo of me with a bit of hair sticking up at the back of my head, but I may be too old in that one.

I will have to see what I can find when I get home.

Some of you looked very cute when you were young, and some of you looked like potential axe murderers.

And no, I am not saying who.

The Van drivers are tooting at all the pretty girls!

Ladies, how can you resist such charm?

Walking down my street yesterday on my way home, a little kid on a bike trundled past me.

He stared at my ponytail and said

"Horse!"

"No just a slight sore throat"

I know it was wasted on him but what the hell.

Oh and Goodmorning to you all.

After another hot sticky day in the office and an evening of shattering my daughters career hopes, I am going to curl up on the sofa with the Mrs and watch CSI, which is taping now.

Jo has been at some meeting at the church where they were discussing getting a new vicar. I think they wore the old one out. "Why a meeting? Can't you just stick a card in the window saying Vicar wanted, all the Holy water you can drink - apply within?"

Well apparently not.

You have to sit around talking about it and discussing wether or not you want a woman vicar (lots of fist shaking and hurrumphs from the older near death experiences in the congregation and such)

Oh well, gets her out of the house I suppose.

They just played bat out of hell on Planet Rock, and to me (and possibly Kizlode) that means only one thing.

The DJ has gone for a piss!

That is what Neal Kay used to do when we worked for him, mind you as soon as that song started up we would head for the bar or the toilets ourselves (normally the bar) then go look at the bikes in the carpark outside, then go chat to some friends, play a game of pool (kiz would play and I would poke the balls around the table and arse around in a very poor impression of someone who had the faintest idea how to play) go for a three course meal, read "War and Peace" AND "Crime and Punsishment" and still be back in the club before the last note faded.

Or something.

Sarah and I are sat on the sofa and she is reading me the book she got from school. It's called peoples jobs, and when we get to the page with the Vet on it she says

"Thats' what I want to do when I grow up. I have been practising on my toy dogs"

"You only want to do that so you can play with lots of animals" I said.

"No, vets have to look after animals and make them well"

"Darling, they also have to put animals to sleep sometimes. Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah like that" she says and points to the picture of the Elephant in the book that has been knocked out so it can have its foot looked at.

"No darling, it means that when an animal is too ill to make better or in too much pain, the vet has to kill it to stop it hurting."

A suprised look and a disbelieving grin appear on her face.

"Oh my!"

I am available as a careers adviser at very reasonable rates.

(she is fine by the way)

The good news is - the Air con is on in the office.

The bad news is - it is not doing to well and the outlet in the ceiling behind me rattles like mad!

I really wish I had gone down the pub at lunchtime now.

bugger.

I may have to pop round to the bang bang for a drink.

Just for research purposes like.

Ah, one of the sweetest phrases in the office lexicon, meaning "no one can have a go at you for using the net"

Can't print, can't access my files so am generally buggered.

So this is me typing bollocks with no "gameplan" (sorry parsley)

The tall blond with the dark eyes who turned up today has gone off for a meeting and she realy is too thin. But her face is very nice. Why am I such an awful letch? Not that I will be doing so much as talking to her, because that would be a bit much. I am here to work. ahem.

It is actually cooler in here today, 25.9 in fact with 63% humidity. We hit 29 yesterday which is not fun.

God this is a dull post. But I am bored and it's high time you were too!

The boss is in today and I am going to have a word with him about the state of this office - sweaty, smelly, unpleasant - but he's good to his staff.

(boom boom)

And one good thing about this office has just walked in - A BABE! yep, she must have had the day off yesterday and she has just come gliding in - tall, dressed in black, blond hair (well you can't have everything) and pleasing on the eye.

I may even stop swearing!

For a day.

ahem.

Edit - She has the darkest eyes! they look almost black! (sigh.) bit skinney though. her, not her eyes.

One of the females in this room is wearing the same perfume that an old girlfriend of mine used to wear.

Cant tell who it is as there are a number of fans blasting away totally failing to dispearse the heat.

But everytime I smell it, I am miles and years away.

Some of it is good.

Some not.

Amazing that smells have such a strong effect on the memory.

This lunchtime has revealed a lot of old pubs that I had forgotten about. Full of Old blokes and wood. Pubs that have been pubs for about 100 years at least. The way a good bub should be. Like "The Artillery" and "The Kings Head"

It also revealed a lot of nasty Weatherspoon type places built in the ground floor of office blocks or what used to be supermarkets - my least favourite type of drinking establishment. The names are enough to put you off "The Masked Haunt" and "The Litten Tree", known to most round here as "The haunted mosk" and "The Litter Tray". Vile places.

Not that I am going to be spending much time in them while I am here, I will be using my lunch hours for the next few months catching up on your blogs and doing some of my own. It's about the only time I will be able to without getting into trouble.

And you all know how good I am at avoiding trouble don't you.

The computers cant locate the printers.

And one of the women on the team we are sharing this hot cramped office space with has a loud "I am important and everything I say is interesting" voice that can only be killed by inserting your earphones and rocking out.

This new office is getting better by the hour!

This new office has no AC! it's broken and it is damn humid in here. It's hotter than Bettie Page eating a curry at the moment. (Bettie Page, Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm)

Right behind my desk is a column, now this could be good as if I posistion my pc right it will cut down the view of my pc screen from the two managers who will be sitting behind me.

And in the true stylel of managers everywhere they are not in yet. Well to be fair, one always comes in late and the other was at the Isle of White festival so may not be in today.

There are no canteen facilities in this building so we have to walk a few doors down to another bigger office of ours that has a canteen. The only good thing about this is that they can't take the time it takes us to get down there out of our lunch break.

The wonderful IT bods have managed to break my nice scroll wheel mouse and replaced it with a manky old one that looks like they found it under a desk somewhere.

It also appears that our wonderful phone systems people have not transferred our numbers over from the old office to our new phones. Well good, I did not want to speak to any customers anyway.

Speaking of the canteen, I am off down there now.

If I am a bit thin on the ground today, it will be because I am unpacking and then under the gaze of the managers.

I am going to take a single malt and curl up on the sofa. May watch a DVD or channel hop then go bed.

Exciting stuff innit.

I am totally knackered.

Hope you all had a good weekend.

(note to self - stop posting such exciting stuff, blog world will get all over stimulated and edgy. And we don't want that now do we)

Just about to turn off the pc and make this music room even hotter by turning on the Marshall. Jo and Sarah are out at some charity car wash thing at the church (her cars only chance of getting cleaned this summer) and I am alone.

With the aid of a coffee and a few ciggies I feel like a human again.

Later I will be watching the Canadian Grand prix and probably falling asleep - but what the hell. It's a traddition or something.

Speaking of TV, there was actually some stuff on yesterday that held my interest. In the afternoon we watched "The big Sleep" with Bogart and Bacall (god she was a hot looking woman!)

Then a great episode of Dr Who, which lead to Sarah doing impressions of the monsters for a bit afterwoods, then "The Seven Ages of Rock" about Heavy Metal this week (odd programme, seemed to run out of steam half way through) Then Alice Cooper live on stage, then Iron Maiden in Rio (well, not bad but the sound is not too good on that dvd no matter what they say about the amount of effort they put in to mixing it)

Enough of that, time to play guitar.

In other news, I discovered last night that sending very smutty pm's to people can be a bit of a mistake when drunk. Especially if you send them to the wrong person!

Eeeep!

Inspired by Idontknowwhy posting about the heat getting her all hot to trot, I would like to ask you few and rare wide awake bloggers about the strangest thing that ever got you "up and running" as it were.

I don't mean the old standards - sexy skimpies on a loved one, copping off in a store room with the bird from reception, getting picked up in a cab by a total stranger (but enough of my life story) The real weird shit that got you going.

I know this will just be me on my own here but I will give you a true example of what I mean.

Years ago, I was in my bedroom at home with my girlfriend and another male friend of ours (Hi big Chris) He was a bit of an "Odd kid" back then and like to burn things. So while we were chatting and listening to music he found a clump of my hair in the bin (told you he was odd) that I had cleared out of my hair brush and put it in an ash tray and burnt it.

For some strange reason, I was overcome with the urge to rip my girlfriends clothes off and give her a damn good seeing to! I almost pushed Chris out onto the street, and had to sit for the rest of the evening with a bit of a "trouser problem"

The next evening my girlfriend wanted to confirm the findings of the first experiment and as Chris was (thankfully) not there, she removed some hairs from my hair brush and set fire to them in the ash tray. And, well.

It all went very, very well.

Ahem.

Now stop laughing - it's your go.

Sarah has decided she wants to keep pet snails.

Trust me, there has been a long path of negotiating downwards to get to snails, she has been through wanting a puppy, a kitten, a rat, a mouse, blah blah blah. So now she has decided on snails.

Good, we have a garden full of them. Sarah got a book from school on what you need to have to keep snails - basically a big container with air holes in the top, soil, stones and some vegetation.

So we go collect the snails from the garden and put them in their new home.

As I am making holes in the lid of the container Sarah is watching over them to make sure they don't escape.

"Daddy, those two are cuddling or fighting"

"No darling, I think they are making baby snails"

"There having sex! Oh good, we will have baby snails"

Some time passes.

"Daddy, they are STILL having sex, how long do they do it for?"

"Hours I think darling"

"Blimey!" said Sarah.

That and a huge jug of black, strong coffee.

Ahem.

Ok, vodka down the thrapple and here my dear 0.5 of a reader, is a question for you (if of course you are still awake and sober. latter one is optional of course)

What, in your humble opinion, is the MOST sexy thing a member of the opposite sex(or same sex if you are so inclined) can wear?

I am refering to sexy bedroom type stuff, but I will allow general clothing if you want.

What gets your little gears meshing then?

Me? well a wet suit with the bum cutout and a bicycle pump MAY feature somewhere, or I could just be lying.

That was my favourite line from the film tonight.

It is indeed a long thing to sit through, and in my opinion not as funny as the first two. And a bit too reliant on CGI spectacle. There is something more entertaining about a well done sword fight like in the first pirates film (in the blacksmiths workshop) that a big CGI'd punch up where there is too much going on on screen for you to take it all in.

But, well it was fun and that kiera Knightly or however you spell it is very good looking.

Oh and if you here that there is something worth hanging around for after the credits have rolled - just leave and wait for the dvd to come out, its not worth sitting there and learning the names of the dentist who put the gold caps on Mr Depps teeth and who Mr Blooms personal assistant was just to see it.

Sitting here in the music room having a minor rock out (wah pedal on stun, running through various guitars and settings on the tonelab and generally cooking the valves in the Marshall) I pause, take a sip of single malt and look up at the wall in front of me and see this -

And I can't help thinking "Isn't this pirate stuff getting a leeeeeetle out of hand?"

I thought I'd post a couple of piccies to lift both your spirits and make you (and anyone else who is that way inclined) go "Ahhhhh"

I know you both have some trying times coming up, with medical stuff and all. Just want you to know that I and a lot of other people are thinking of you both.

xxxx

I am finnished packing and so am orft!

A short day and no mistake. Thank god!

My last act will be to turn off the pc and pop the mouse in the packing crate (as I have no faith in our IT department knowing that it will have to go with the computer to the new office.)

May pop back on when I get home.

Or shall I have a quick farewell drink in Mollys?

Hmmmmmmmmm.

Now we are moving out of the throbbing heart of the London, I am going to miss:

Soho square.

The fire in the grill first thing in the morning at the back of Dionysius Kebab place on the corner of Oxford Street and Charing Cross Road as they get the charcoal ready for the lunchtime rush.

Marinos Italian sandwich bar and restaurant next door.

The way the fountains outside Centre Point travel horizontally across the street on windy days.

Walking round Soho at lunch time in the summer

Bumping into minor and major Celebs.

The girls from the model agency over the road.

Looking in through the ever-open doors of Sunset strip and seeing all the lovelies sat at the bar in not much clothing.

The total madness of white van drivers.

The illuminated “Model – 1st floor” signs in doorways. Ahem.

The guitar shops – oh god I am going to miss those.

Molly Moggs.

The fact that Christmas shopping was a total breeze when you’re so close to the shops.

People watching from coffee bars in Old Compton or Brewer Street.

The people of no fixed mental agenda who seem to like this area and provide some valuable street theatre style distractions.

The Old street area is not that bad, but it will seem a little dull after being here.

Oh well.

A virtual prize to anyone who knows what song that line is from.

We are moving offices today. So today, unlike everyother day, everyone came in and started working straight away. There is nothing as pleasing as a good session in front of the shredder getting rid of loads of shite you have had in or on your desk for no good reason you can remember.

Ahh, I love the phrase "lost in the move" a great cure all and cop out.

Of course the reason we are all shredding and boxing away like beavers is we can go at 12.00 if we are all done.

AND I AM!

just got to stick labels on things and un plug the phone.

Hmm, better do that now to avoid the enevitable last minute "Oh Nick, could you just ...." phone call.

Then home for a sleep (as I am sure I have picked up that bug from Sketchweasel - my eyes feel like they are being pushed into my head) so I don't crash out during Pirates of the Caribean tonight.

now I think a quick stroll through blog world is in order.

I mean Meat Balls - of the greek variety.

You know I posted that you tube vid of the old greek couple arguing and making meat balls right? (Old Nicks first cookery post)

We have just done the recipie and eaten the first batch - bloody tasted ACE!

Gonna go back out to the kitchen and do the next 10.

Try the recipie it works great BUT be aware, the amounts they say will feed an army or your average extended greek family. You may want to cut down on them a little, or make tons of them and cook em and have them cold.

Gotta go submerse my balls in some hot oil

Then on with the cooking!

What with all these weekends away, and the office being full of top dogs, I have not been able to keep up as much as I would like here. And there is the small matter of loads of work as well. Can't even catch up at home as I am trying to give Sarah and Jo some attention. But I have missed a lot of stuff on here and I'm missing it.

One end of our office now looks like it has been bombed - all the ceiling tiles are missing and wires hang out of the suspended ceiling space, debris litters the floor. They are not hanging about with this move thing.

Tomorrow will be a case of "pack it all in crates" in the morning and "fuck off early" in the afternoon. I have already told the boy from Brazil in mollys that his lunch time profits are going to take a tumble from next week.

The "plan" is that we will be back here by the end of the summer but we all doubt it very much. The area we are going back to is in Old Street and all the pubs and shops are crap, Hoxton is nearby but FULL of wankers, and the celeb count is never very high. A long way off working in the throbbing west end at the heart of our capital city.

And Christmas shopping will be a pain this year (you can tell I don't think we are coming back) in the past two years it has been a breeze - nip out in your lunch hour and pick up a few bits from Oxford or Regent street no trouble.

And NO GUITAR SHOPS!

Oh fuck.

And as I said before, in the new office I have two managers sitting behind me with a perfect view of my pc screen.

So I may have to limit my yakking on here by quite a bit.

It may only be for some months, it may be for longer.

But if there is a way to get on here and bore you to death without loosing my job I will do it.

Who said "of fucking great"?

see me after.

Maybe I could do with the break.

In other news, Jo has apparently bought Sarah a new pirate outfit - can't wait to see that! and we are going to see the new Pirates film this Friday. Well not Sarah, she will have to wait for the DVD to come out.

Meno started this off apparently so I thought I would have a go.

It was a while ago. My girlfriend and I were laying there "after"

ahem.

Time for the post coital woodbine then! I reach for the packet of cigarettes, retrieve it and ask if she'd like one. She says yes. I open the packet trying to look all cool and like I am the worlds greatest lover or something.

I forget some how that allthough I am technically holding the packet in front of me, I am still laying down. So when I flip up the top of the packet, 17 cigarettes fall into my face.

She did not stop laughing for 10 minutes.

Total Numpty.

The office is full of dust and carcenogens (probably) as they take the ceiling down around us, My aol account is taking about half an hour to open up and shows no sign in doing so, so no checky emailey, Shed loads of work to do before we move, stupid people asking for live connections points for their lap tops (fuck off back to your own office!) and... I have the tom tits!

Fucking perfect start to a perfect working day!

The actual start of my day was brekie in bed, which was lovely, and then a dash to the toilet. Not the brekkies fault I hasten to add. Then a read of shipscooks latest work of fiction staring a pirate of this parish. He may publish but if he does I would point out it is a work of fiction - Sarah is not that blood thirsty in real life.

ahem.

Well, ya gotta laugh innit!

Bad news is that it looks like we are moving offices on Friday, so from next week I will have two managers sitting behind me.

The good news is that I will not be blogging as much during the day - OK stop fucking dancing! Bastards.

The other news is

I really want to be alone in a room with a guitar and an amplifier. Now.

I cant do all that fancy graphics stuff like AJ, but I would just like to say best wishes to Kiz, the mighty Fig Bellow, The singist with the songist, and wonderful top notch geeeezer, my mate Andy.

Have a good day dood.

And remember,

It's like melted cheese.......

I would put a picture up of the monstrosity but can't be arsed. Anyway you should have all seen it by now.

But the best comment I read about it was

"What is Lisa Simpson doing to that poor man!"

You have a look.

Who ever saw that has a very dirty mind.

By the mighty fish of planet lung! Has the room got no Bees!

Did it come sideways via the gaurderobe to this juncture with no pleasing tuesday!

Wherefore the fair Hecktor of Hammerite - and no crumb left for supper!

Come back knobbly sprite lest the wages of plinney the elder are held back in a bag of fudge!

You know it makes sense!

Just had a chat outside with a work mate.

He told me about a health problem his other half is having. He didn't get much sleep last night.

Now all the shit that was bugging me, the annoyances with people, the things I was worried about, my own personal stack of crap - just does not seem to mean anything anymore.

It won't last as we all know it never does - I will eventually let it all resume its normal position in my mind. But just for now, I feel lucky. Blessed even.

One - a man with a face exactly like Charles Laughtons version of Quasimodo.

Two - a "person" with a face like a bloke and a platinum blond wig on, sporting a huge pair of silicon tits which were "decorated" with splashes of liquid that sparkeled in the light (ahem) adjusting their blouse to show off these plastic delights in a more "pleasing"? fashion.

Well, that's lunchtime in London for ya!

After the blazing heat of Birmingham, I have to say London seems chuffin' FREEZING today!

"The blazing heat of Birmingham"

Now there is a phrase I never thought I would ever use!

So this is being done on word for whenever the bloody connection comes back. Although I am not holding out much hope as I suspect the rapid dismantling of the office infrastructure that has been going on since last week may mean that some well intentioned chap in blue overalls has pulled out the wrong cables.

So anywhat, good morning.

Hope the world is sunny from a metaphysical point of view if not a literal one wherever you find yourself this morning, and no one has urinated on your pomme frites.

Had a good weekend myself, and will post pictures tonight as promised once the wife has finished with me, or maybe before. Make her wait even longer, bastard that I am.

As the server is down and no one can do any work or even pretend to, the talk amongst the males in the office is now of football. Many strange words are being spoken and foreign names mentioned or spat out, depending on the level of regard the person is held in. It is a totally different world. One I have never had an urge to be included in.

You can tell I’m bored can’t you. God knows when this is going to appear on the blog but when it does it will obviously mean the server is back. And I may well trim this wandering goat track of a post down so you don’t all die of boredom.

I could tell you more about Birmingham. Well. Juzzzy – he is a little concerned, as you all know, about his impending plunge to an early death/ parachute jump. Having seen the Jpegs stature I can tell you all and him, that he will drift down slowly like a feather, as there really is not enough of him for gravity to get a good hold of! EAT SOME FOOD!

We all had a bit of a freak out when looking at the pictures I took in the club. It all went a bit Scooby Doo in the corner as we huddled around my camera going “Yikes!” and “Jiminy Jillickers!” and even “Wraggy!” as in one of the shots there appeared to be a disembodied glowing skull floating across the dance floor that no one had seen.

In the rancid and very smelly male toilet of Snobs nightclub, there was actually a little man by the sinks trying to sell you that squirty smelly stuff and give you some hand towels. He even had his little bowl for tips! Well he could fuck right off! So out of place in a dive like that – what where they thinking?

Abi was her usual charming self and had all the men in the takeaway wrapped round her little finger with her coy questions about the nature of the (to her) exotic foodstuffs for sale. Ahem.

Abi was even giving Virgin blog dance lessons! I would love to tell you that she turned him instantly into Fred Astaire in true Hollywood Style, but I would be lying. And that is just so unlike me. Row the boat obviously does not need dancing lessons. Not that I was looking. Mrs F did attempt to get me to dance but I don’t think me wriggling against her bum while she danced with Ships cook really counts. More like sexual harassment actually, and more up my street.

Any how, gotta go answer the phones and stuff now as all is working again.

Speak at you later.

After another hellish motorway journey, here I am back in blog land for a quick hello before food and bed.

For some reason I seem to have a headache, but can't imagine why.

It was great to see Paddy and Brads for the first time. They are a fantastic couple and very very nice people.

Got to Birmingham and located the hotel. Walked up the cannals at one point skipping over that most rare of sites, The legendary white Dog Turd, and found the bar. Them found Abi. Then walked right by Abi as her hair has got longer and she had some very blue contacts in. Found Abi again. Started drinking. Paddy and Brad turned up, then Juzzy and Row the boat then Virgin blog then we all drunk some more.

Some of paddys "real world" friends turned up, said Hi, then sat at another table as there was not much room around ours. Found out later that they thought we had all met on the internet via a swingers site and wanted to give us some space! We should have all got our keys out and thrown them into the middle of the table just to freak them out. Christ knows what they thought we were up to when various groupings of us popped outside for a cigarette!

Then on to a club called Snobs, which I decided should have stood for "Should Not Order Bottled Spirits" due to the watering down of said liquids, and due to the young nature of most of the outher punters, I felt like a baby sitter. You could see them looking at me and Shipscook and thinking either "Drug squad" or "Blimey someones dads have come to get them"

Oh well we had fun.

Dancing was done (NOT by me no matter how many times Row pointed her cleavage at me and Mrs F threatened me) Drinks where bought and paddy and brads danced and sung like young lovers.

More drinks were had, photos were taken (I know who the blogger is that Abi kissed but as she got tounge back she seemed to be a bit suprised) and silly games where played. Most amusing.

Saturday saw hangovers thankfully leaving off, another walk down the canal to meet up for lunch and Paddy presenting me with a little plastic pirate hat, plastic flintlock pistol with realistic firing sound and a plastic eye patch. Love that man!

Met up with the wonderous Sixpence and Morelearning (and yes, Sixpences cleavage can now be seen from space! Check google earth!) and Sketchweasel showed up (hurrah) and yes, I did notice your tattoo. Well I'm a bloke and my eyes where open!

And why was Row shaking so much? Hmmmmm?

Me? I was as sober as a judge.

That night we went to see a load of people and kids dancing around on a stage (well it was for a good cause) and paddy and brads star turns.

It was fucking hillarious! Especially "Summer Lovin" from grease with all the girls dressed as the boys and paddy and brad and some other "chaps" dressed as the girls. God I hope someone got it on video.

So, That is a very quick rundown of the weekend. I had the only camera that was not in a phone, so I have all the piccies. But you will have to wait till tomorrow night as I cannot load them up here.

That should give you time to get the money in.

Now off to do some malicious tagging!

(by the way - I behaved impecably all weekend. I did not go into a late night food place and say loudly "Help me out here fella, I have no idea what any of this shit is!")

It was a pleasure to meet you all.