Get home - house empty, goooood.

Put the Marshall on standby and fire up the Vox tonelab.

Break the seal on the bottle of Glenrothes single speyside malt Select Reserve that Mrs F and Shipscook got me in Edinburgh and pour a glass out.

Pick a les paul, plug in, tune up, take a sip

And play.

Ahhhhh.

Much, much better.

Try to remember how to play "Limelight" by Rush the practice the opening riff of "The Spirit of Radio"

Have a bash at "Brown Sugar" by ZZ Top.

Try to remember how to play the solo to "Alright Now" by free note for note. Hmmm. nearly.

A swift blast of "I don't know" by Ozzy and Jo and Sarah arrive.

Time to cook.

Tension gone.

Result.

And now to watch a programme about Marc Bolan on BBC 4.

I forget sometimes.

I know that most of you, well you lot on my friends list that have been there for a while know I am fairly harmless.

I think, but I could be wrong, that I come over as a "nice" person.

Yep, I do like to make smutty comments but it is all done with the tongue firmly in cheek. Or at least somewhere wet and warm. (jeeez look! I'm doing it again!)

So anywhat, there I am having a quick trot round some new blogs, find a new person and say "helllloooooooo" as I sometimes do, and yes. Made some comments.

In my own styleeeeee erm, thing.

Thankfully they seem to have a sense of humour and have not flagged me as a pervert.

But give them time.

Mwahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaacoughchokepukesplutter.

sometimes for good stuff, sometimes for bad stuff.

Not that today is, technically, bad.

It is just the fact that I am working on a file of the purest shite, I cannot access AOL through my favourites list, but instead have to get to it via google (which makes me think the IT bods have blocked access to it somehow. Well you cant have access to the outside world while your at work can you children) and I do actually let myself get worked up over silly things like trying to arrange stuff with friends like an adult.

Deep down I am still a little kid. Or totally lazy. I want everything sorted out by the "Adults" and I will just go along with it all happily. Which is bloody unfair and must make me a right pain in the arse to have as a friend.

The thing is a lot of people I know are rather decisive and good at sorting stuff like tickets and travel on the net. So I defer to them in all instances. I just say "OK, I would love to" and they make it happen.

I am spoilt really. The only time I get decisive (and a bit "tetchy" shall we say) is when I'm surrounded by people saying stuff like "I dunno, what do you want to do?"

Then I just go all "RIGHT" and make decisions that are not thought through properly, which normally kick start the other people into making plans that will not actually get us all killed, mugged, arrested or whatever.

If I ever came up with a "best laid plan" for a mouse or a man, it would be a damn miracle.

That's my nice relaxing Friday at work that is.

I have been trying to sort out some dates with some friends as to when we can all go and get our brains expanded by seeing some exhibitions, and it does not help that the exhibitions in question (The Terracota army in the British Museum, and the King Tut stuff at the O2 arena) are very popular.

Looks like the British Museum trip will have to wait till January as a birthday suprise for sarah, and as for gawping at King tuts bling - undecided yet, maybe December.

So what with that and this bloody pathetic file that I am trying to work through (really you should see the "information" I am given to find the customers, they must think I am some kind of magician!) I am now feeling a little tight around the shoulders.

I do get wound up so easily. I think its to do with having a short temper.

Now just had an email suggesting another date - 27th October. Yes just book it! arrrg!

Jo, who looks puzzled, calls me to the phone,

“It’s for you, I think it’s the bank”

EH?

“Hallo Mr Nick?”

“Yes, what is this call for!”

“Oh erm, its just a courtesy call, how are you this evening….”

“Right. Has any money been taken out of my account without my knowledge?”

“Er, ah no, erm not that I am aware of, its”

“OK, then there is no point to this call really. DO NOT PHONE ME AT HOME. Goodbye”

And click.

If I want to discuss something with you, I will come and see you. Or there is this little thing called the internet which I believe is quite popular in banking circles. Fuckers.

An Eglishmans home is his castle, till he gets a phone put in.