Only 1hr and 15 minutes to go till the weekend starts for me!

What has the evening in store. Oh the usual.

Get on train and sit there like a puppet with its strings cut, lolling all over the place and dribbling. If I get a seat that is.

Get to S&F's and probably scare Moff as I come through the door, as she will no doubt be on the computer if she is in the house.

Avoid Cleo trying to get into the bedroom and rub herself all over the duvet (she likes the way I smell) and get some much needed sleep.

Then probably get woken by Mr S forcing me to imbibe some form of alcomahol. Get up and get dressed. Break out the guitar. Get told to turn it down. Ignore said request and continue to make the cats bounce off the funiture with high pitched squeals from pick harmonics (they reeeely don't like those!)

Stop playing and eat - I think the menu is lamb curry with cous cous - then drink some more.

Maybe blog. Maybe text. Maybe get that offer of phone sex I missed out on at a time when I can enjoy it and my damn phone is on!

Then at some time on Saturday morning go to sleep.

Go home on Saturday and have a BBQ, featuring home made burgers and chicken kebabs. D&T are coming over and maybe Jo's sister and her boyfriend.

Sunday. Wake up and go "uuurg" a bit. Sunday afternoon, go round and see Kizlodes new sprog.

Which will be the first time I have seen Kiz in bloody ages, I am not the best long term friend in the world as you can tell. Funny, he moves nearer to my house and I see him less.

Funny old game life innit.

So that's my weekend. I am sure that somewhere in there something unexpected will happen and throw it all out the window.

Well that's not a bad effort.

See my post of earlier.

hehehehe.

I hate feeling like this.

I really just want to curl up under my desk and pass out. I was nodding off in a most un cool way on the train all the way home yesterday.

Mind you, yesterday afternoon was a tad awful due to the hangover I had. Today is just residual tiredness from my lack of restraint.

My head is stuffed with dirty cotton wool and thoughts are hard to follow through. If we were really busy here I would be in so much trouble.

Apart from that, my mood is fine - appetite is good and food has been consumed.

But my eyes feel puffy and warm, my extremities feel heavy and this is all too much trouble.

Of course I will be getting an early night tonight so all will be well.

Oh hang on.........

Well what does not kill you only makes you feel like death stronger

I have snaffled down too rather large “Breakfast Special” sandwiches and feel like an over full tube of toothpaste. Might have to go have a squeeze soon to make some room for lunch. I am such a charmer no?

I have a small amount of work to do that I will, if I apply myself reeeeely hard, be able to stretch out to “fill” the day with. You see (looks left and right to check the coast is clear) my manager is off today, so my “work ethic” has also failed to show up.

I have my new shiny tiny red kidney bean shaped pod guitar modeller in my bag, ready to make big rocky noises with at S&F’s tonight. Boy will they be pleased!

Not.

And much later, if Mr S is not doing any paying work on the PC, I may get to check in when I am more “refreshed” and dazzle you all with my world class witticisms. OK the last bits a lie, I may be drunk in charge of a blog later and talking bollocks. Have to up my game or no nominations for me in the bloscars.

Have a good Friday people.

Party like it’s on sale for £19.99.

I was just wondering.

What would be the most eye catching or splutter inducing title for a post?

I had some missed calls on my phone last hight, after the witching hour even.

Now everybody knows that with healthy clean living life style I am never up past 10pm. (ahem) and so I missed them.

"Why the phone calls last night? What have I done now?"

I enquired by text this morning.

"Because X is here with X and me and we were going to have phone sex with you"

Oh bugger. Sodding typical

See what an early night can cause you to miss.

Just as well I had some real sex to tide me over.

Sing like anyone in the world, who would it be?

Me?

Ray Gillen. Fantastic range and power. Well till he died anyway.

Have I started making "old bloke" noises when I get up out of a chair?

Oh

Yeah right.

Silly me.

"I've just taken a photograph of me playing with myself in the bath. Wanna come and play?"

Well.................

BOLLOCKS!

Turns out to be a fucking spam text! £1.50 to see some bints soggy growler! are you completely George Bernard!

And I don't even have a camera phone.

Modern life is rubbish.

To my left, Dangerous Dave is asleep at his desk - already well into his "lunch break". Thank god he is not snoring.

To my right there is (and has been for nearly two weeks) a distinct lack of Glasgow Steve. So I have to take up the slack in the excessive swearing stakes.

In front of me there is a space that would be occupied by another "work mate" but they have been gone for over a month and they are having Chemotherapy.

Even Bev is quiet! which is odd.

Old Irish line manager bloke is humming some classic rock tune softly to himself from somewhere behind me, and I think I'm going to go FUCKING NUTS!

or to lunch.

Oh well.

Nope.

Out front of our dreary office, there is not much to look at but the seemingly endless stream of bicycle riders going past as they merryly ignore the red traffic lights.

Quite a few of them are female.

And it would seem that the fact they are going to be riding into work today catches them at a bit of wardrobe malfunction.

Mistakes commonly seen out there include.

Low cut tops. Girls, especially if your bike has drop handlebars you reeeeely should think that one through a bit more.

Split skirts. Oh for gods sake ladies, OK - some of you have very nice legs but pumping pedals does show off the old celulite if you have it or it is approaching.

Long billowy skirts. Yeah love, nice knickers. And if it gets ripped off by the back wheel, what you going to wear in that improtant meeting with the new client eh?

And no matter how safe it makes you or how dangerous it is out on the roads - no one looks good in a cycle helmet.

The trouble with bank holidays and long weekends generally is the mess with your internal calender.

I have to keep stopping and reminding myself that today is Wednesday (had to do it just then before typing) as for some reason I think its Thursday.

You would think my brain would be under the impression that it is Tuesday, what with Tuesday this week being "Monday" as far as work goes and....

Oh bollocks I'm just making it worse for myself here.

I will just go away and do some work I think.

Am I at work?

Oh bugger.

I got to S&F's

Scared the crap out of Mrs F's mother by being light on my feet and catching her unawares (I would put "ahem" but it sounds far smuttier than it is, or I would even want to imagine)

Escorted Mrs F senior off the premises.

Broke out my Les Paul.

Fought my way past the lazer security systems protecting Mr S's drink cabinet.

Sat for one minute "Luxuriating" in my tension headache.

Took a big sip.

And rocked out.

And the cats did dance and run for cover.

And the vibrations of the speaker in Moffs poor and much bestet on amplifier did cause all the worms in the lawn out side to pop out of the ground like little brown patriot missiles in one of George dubbleyuhs wet dreams.

And.

Afer a while.

I was me again.

Oh fuck.

I was hoping to become Sean Connery!

Oh well. (mind you, he is probably shite at playing guitar)

Better luck next time eh.

Please don't tell me I have spent all damn morning and a bit of this afternoon doing a report for an office that I actually did and finalised last fucking week!

BOLLOCKS!!

What a waste of a day!

Fuckety shit lumps.

I feel a rather loud session of guitar playing and a wee drinky at S&Fs' coming on.

Gonna make the cats DANCE! or run for cover.

Not like today had much going for it anyway.

Personally glad to see the back of it.

Actor Owen Wilson is reportedly recovering in a Hollywood Hospital after an attempted suicide bid.

What did he do, try to watch all his own films in one sitting?

Yep, tis lunch time and I find my self at my desk.

Well I like to worry the barstaff on occasion by not turning up.

And now I am bored.

So. What is the weirdest thing you have ever found in a toilet?

Me, well...

In the public toilets of Liverpool Street Station in London, being caught short on the journey home, I pushed open a cubicle door that was ajar and found a ginger haired twentysomething male office worker, still in his shirt and tie, sat with his trousers round his ankles merrily having a wank.

I said something along the lines of "of for fucks sake!" and chose another cubicle, well away from his one.

Your go.

I am not at all "confused"

I have got a bit of colour from various hours sat in various gardens drinking various drinks.

I am the lord of bloat.

And I did NOT just try to fill the kettle up from the shredder.

No I didn't.

Well.

Whose bloody silly idea was it to put the shredder next to the water cooler anyway?

Ahem.

Due to said festival of us not winning much in the way of precious metal at all, due to start in some years, Stratford Station is being buggered about with/improved/de shit holeised or something.

So they only managed to start running trains into central London at about 07.15 this morning. So they were a touch on the full side. I had a seat so I could sit and be amazed at the optimism of people trying to cram themselves onto a train that is already bursting at the seams and asking in tones ranging from angry to pleading – “Could you move down a little please?” Bugger off.

There is however a nice coloured glass theme developing in the area of Stratford station though. The new Docklands light Railway platform has a weird wonky roof on it that reminds me of a giant bit of peel from the outside of some huge metallic fruit, and the walls are made of glass panels in various pastel shades. As you travel down the line a little, you pass new blocks of flats going up to take advantage of the property price rise that will come with the games. These very nice and probably expensive flats all have balconies with glass panel screens around them in various pastel hues. All looks very jolly and very much “not for the locals!”

Because they may be having their borough polished and modernised to within an inch of its life, but you don’t actually want the locals to take the new pricey flats do you? Nah, they can stay in the blocks that were put up just after the Second World War which, surprisingly, seem not to be getting the big tart up at all.

when sat at in front of this computer.

(which I have tried not to be today as its jo's birthday, but she is chatting with a friend in the garden now so I am getting my little fix of pc based fun and aggravation)

"Just post the cunting comment NOW you cunt fuck bastid shit head knob splitting shitbag!!!!"

"Yes. That button. Yep that on there. Let me point it out to you again. Cliky fucking click cocksucker! FUCKING WAKE UP AND DOOOOOOO IT NOW!!!!"

"No, what - why the fuck are you doing that now? You vindictive half wit fuck bag peice of cunting SHIT!"

"Die. Just turn off. No! No? did I actually ask you to back up my personal storage? So why would I be bothered that you cannot in fact do that? So if you could just stop telling me that you cant do it and actually do the fucking thing I asked you to do FIFTEEN FUCKING MINUTES AGO AND TURN OFF AND DIE BECAUSE I REALLY WANT TO GO TO BED AND TRY AND SLEEP OFF THE RAGE HEADACHE AN ENTIRE NIGHT OF TRYING TO SEND ONE MESSAGE VIA YOU GENERALLY CAUSES you git."

And my favourite, which I have just had to do - the old sit here with a frown on my face, knocking on the monitor screen as the pc refuses to move or respond to anything

"hello? any one in there? Helllloooooooooooooooo?"

Modern life is rubbish.

Or my pc is.

Or all three.

Here I am jumping around like a puppy with it's cock in a mousetrap and what do I find?

Huge chunks of sleepy people and a computer that just won't play ball!

Arse burgers!

Would of been on here erlier but Shipscook had to do some real money making type work so we stood back and let him get on with it, and just to be normal and nice played games with our perceptions, drank stuff that should be banned and saw things that were not there.

as ya doooooooo!

So.

Ahem.

Gonna have a squint about and see what everyone else was doing while they were awake.

Dogwatch or what?

There is a sun up in the sky!

Cant be ours. Must be some huge burning alien battle cruiser or something. Call Dr Who right now!

Any way, as I am off out for lunch in a country pub and then a wander round that there fancy "the London" I predict a slighty rosey hue will be blossoming on my expanding forehead by the end of the day.

Yes, I do take off my Marshall Baseball cap sometimes you know. Otherwise how would those enormously witty and observant complete strangers know to come up to me and say
"Ere! did you know you look just like that bloke out of Status Quo?"

And I do so hate to dissapoint my public.

Ahem.

Speak later on today after much liquid and food.

Yep, s'gonna be a late night!

You have been warned (landers)

hehehehe.

On there most recent return trip from Edinburgh. S&F picked up a bottle of Dalymore single malt whiskey from the airport shop, just for little old me.

Mrs F was drawn to this particular bottle because of the name of the whisky. It is a dark rich brown colour and its called.

"Black Pearl"

Arrrrrr me hearties!

(how long is it till national talk like a pirate day again?)

Some work has been discovered and passed to me.

Bugger.

And it's true its not a very big file.

But....

It's only 45 minutes to lunch time AND it's Friday for Gods sake!

I am beset by the demons of MDS.

(for those who don't know thats' Motivational Depravation Syndrome)

All I want to do is arse around on the blog and email other people to stop them working.

Spread the MDS! hehehehehe.

And in other news

Due to my not letting my umbrella dry out properly before folding it up, it now smells like a tramps gusset.

Lovely.

Tick tock tick tock.

I am not going to spend the morning pumping out rubbish posts just because I'm bored. Well not yet anyway.

I am going to start today with another question.

How many times have you been in love?

And by that I don't mean "keen on" someone, happy with, going out with, but In Love.

Me?

5

As I am obviously not going to blog anything of worth or sense today let me ask you something instead.

What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you?

Could be a compliment, could be "no, you have the last chip" sort of thing.

Wordsworth is not exactly spinning in his grave today.

I could poo for England today!

TWO I have had since arriving at work!

Well I did want to loose some weight.

What? Don't be like that - its good to share!

Isn't it?

ahem.

I have a bag of Naked chocolate women in my rucksack.

Not life size unfortunatley.

I may just eat them all before I get home.

so there.

Don't ask.

Hake! Hake!
I hit it with a rake.
It played a tune
and went KABOOM!
What a mistake to make!

Stumble up the road. Train. Yes long white thing with red doors. Must get on. What! nearly missed the stop. Stumbly outwards and escalatorage. At least its not raining. My god my mouth feels like the bottom of an Elephants gusset. Shop. Ah bottle of very overpriced but very chilled water. Peel seal off and flick top back. Drink.

Oh god.

Sooooo lovely. Chilled to perfection. So cold it makes my sinuses hurt. swallow. Mouth instantly as dry as a camels humour again. drink more. Have a ciggie. Wise move eh?. no not really. Big ugly brick building. I think I work here. Show pass. I said pass. Get in lift. Boss not in. Gooooooooood. M