Area 136

Well no I'm not, but!

As some of you have mentioned this activity (pocketmon for one) and some of you have mentioned you don't like my "madbastard bog" avatar, I have changed it to one of the special ones I had done for "talk like a pirate" day.

Just to get into the wossname of sumfink analladat innit.

ahem.

Well what with me not filling the blogwaves up with twaddle for a couple of days I thought I would try to "Get back on the horse" as it were.

But every time I try to check emails or read a post or leave a comment this fucking computer - my work computer - times out and cant do it first go.

It is a tad frustrating!

So I may not bother too much as I want to keep my blood pressure low.

Who am I kidding, addict that I am. I will obvously try again and again in between coffee and ciggie breaks otherwise the boredom of not working will drive me nuts or give me time to think.

Good job I pre selected lots of supernatural/horror themed vids and set them to go up "on the timer" on channel 136 already then.

I may have to consider an early lunch.

I have discovered that when I put my heels down hard as I walk, my big clumpy boots make a nice farting noise as my foot moves inside them.

That's my entertainment sorted out for the long airport queue through security on Friday morning then.

You know how it is – a trip away approaches and you start to think of the things you need. I also start to think of all the things that can go wrong as you trudge along in your snails pace moving line at those factories of fun “British Airports” (not that this prevented me once trying to get through security with what can only be described as a little metal hammer in my hand luggage. No I honestly forgot it was there and no they did not let me keep it.)

I know for a fact that some bored jobs worth WILL want me to take off my footwear and put them through the x-ray machine because I will be wearing boots. Big black clumpy Caterpillar style boots – well I am going to go up Carlton Hill and possibly the Cliffs overlooking Edinburgh for a full on billowy shirt moment so stout footwear is a must. But these type of booties attract the attention of the little Hitler types very much, and remembering that made me think about socks.

Yes, I’m sorry but I do tend to wear my socks to destruction, although they are always well washed I do tend to get beyond the normal mileage out of them. So I thought to myself “Do you really want to be standing there with your big toes sticking out of a well worn pair of socks or do we buy new ones?”

No contest, skint as I am it was time to buy socks.

M&S – fuck off! £10 for five pairs? Hmmm.

So I went down the Morten Harkett* and got five pairs of identical socks for £3. They’re only going to get worn to destruction anyway.

In other news, wibble.

* Morten Harkett (lead singer with foreign 80’s pop bastards A-HA) = Market.  

Went out today with S&F and Sarah to see some old stuff.

Ya know, history and stuff. Queen Elizabeths hunting lodge. Not that the lodge went hunting of course. Eh?

Before that we stopped at a large expanse of water hemed in by forest, with lots of those wet things paddeling about on the surface, what are they called again?

Not Canoeists, ducks - them wet feathery things, you know. And them hissy bastards and the black things with the big feet. Yeah, Swans and Geese and Coots.

So, after pelting the bastards with bread and having a walk about the woods we went and had food.

And then we dropped Sarah back with her Mum at home and headed back here.

Now I am just going for a coffee/brandy/whisky/guitar type interlude and would like to just say that the spelling in this post is all my own drunken work and therefore should be either preserved for the blog nation or laughed and pointed at as an example.

God I think I may be slightly drunk.

Which will please Jo and give her something to talk about.

I have mostly been doing the same as this morning - nothing!

Well nothing work wise. Fuck 'em.

I have blogged and watched music vids on youtube but this afternoon I am in the mood for something else.

Yes - twaddle!

Of which there is a goodly amount on you tube.

So far this arvo I have watched some absolute bobbings about 9/11 and the planes carrying rockets to blow there way into the building, and am at the moment waiting for the second part of a right load of old entertaining guff about the philidelphia experiment, which is nothing to do with soft cheese at all!

So there.

Yes! it is nearly time to go and do the dance of a thousand Sandwiches!

I will be having a bowl of special K.

Erm right.

OK.

What are you having?

Just realised that I have not posted anything so far today!

I just know how sad you would be, my dear and loyal 0.5 of a reader, if I did not make your morning bright with my wossname of the wordy nature.

That whirring sound in the background is my English teacher spinning in his grave.

Now, erm well.

Oh yeah. Saw a very disturbing photo of Cate Blanchett in the Metro today. Why was it disturbing? Has another Hollywood star gone the way of bones and undereating but insisting on sporting a low backed and low cut frock to show off the bones?

No, Cate was dressed as a young Bob Dylan, who she is playing in a new bio pick. And Christ on a petrol powered pogo stick, she looked just like him!

In other news. You do realise your still logged into google mail don't you?

Why am I still awake?

Oh yeah, because I have not gone to bed.

Been playing with the dog.

WAIT A MINUTE!

WE DON'T HAVE A DOG!

Wibble.

In other news.

tick tock tick tock.

meep.

1 Underpants.

2 An ice cube tray that has NOT been filled up by me! (will somebody else Please work out how to use the tap and fill the damn thing up when they have used all the ice)

3 Human body parts.

4 Books.

5 A full bottle of Vodka.

Thank you that is all.

I hate bloody Chuggers!

For those of you that don’t know the term, it is short for Charity Muggers – those bastards in the street that try to stop you and get you to set up a direct debit for Children in need, Save the Ferret, Friends of the Earth, Badgers in Danger or Larks tongues in Aspic or whatever the fuck it is that day!

Packs of them stand on the pavement and jump into your way, insisting on talking at you and being all nice and friendly and outgoing, invading your personal space and commenting on anything you have with you or are wearing “Oh you like Marshall Amplifiers, do you play guitar then?” – Just FUCK OFF!

You want my money? SEND ME A FUCKING MAIL SHOT!

I actually saw one of the pushy bastards follow someone as they crossed the road when it was obvious that they were not going to get a donation, would he let it go? Would he bollocks!

But I wouldn’t mind being accosted by one of the twats from Cancer Research, just so I could do the joke I heard on telly ages ago –

“Excuse me sir, could you spare five minutes for Cancer Research?”

“Well OK, but we ain’t going to get much done in five minutes are we!”

I will be flying up to Edinburgh next weekend and this brought to mind a shameful secret which, being the selfless person I am, I will share with you.

Every single time I find myself in an Aircraft and we are taxing to the runway, I hear in my head the music they used to play on Thunderbirds whenever they launched Thunderbird 2.

So what shall I tell you this morning?

Inspired by a recent friends post, I could tell you about the crumple zone my nose appears to have which means that out of the many times I have been hit, not one has resulted in a broken nose, as my hooter folds over to the right hand side. If a left-hander ever smacks me I’m in trouble. But I just have told you so that’s out.

I could tell you that I have noticed I am back in the habit of walking around with my head down to hide the red patches on my face from people – a habit I got out of in my early twenties, but that would be another pointless self indulgent whinge. And anyway it’s not so bad now after a couple of applications of HC45 cream.

Maybe I could say that, as I have not touched a guitar in over 24 hours I am getting a bit twitchy, but my addictions are my problem.

I think the best thing is not to bother posting until I actually have something to say.

So I will do that and spare you the boredom of reading another load of old bollocks.

Oh hang on….

BUGGER!

I will mostly be attempting to watch old Top Gear clips on youtube.

But the system here is very slow due to thousands of other workers in the company using the internet during there lunch breaks.

ho hum.

What an exciting day.

A brown paper bag.

Over my head.

Possibly with eye holes but I have not decided.

Why, because the skin above my eyebrows and on either side of my nose looks like it has been donated by a leper and grafted on to me using superglue mixed with builders sand.

It is red, and it feels raw and it is flaky.

Thank you so fucking much.

I was going to put aside the Marshall baseball cap and move on to the woolly beanie type winter thing I favour in these cold months, but as I feel the need to hide as much as possible the baseball cap stays in service. I can hide the red section of my face behind the peak as I walk with my head down. Probably makes me look very suspicious on CCTV – “Appearing on Crimewatch soon, Old Nick!”

Anyway, the best and most happy news is that although it may look a little less livid in natural light, under harsh, bright UV lights – the sort you get in crowded offices, the EXACT sort of lights I am going to be spending most of my fucking day under, it looks fucking awful.

(Yes, I know there are people in the world with real problems and real health issues, but they can get their own fucking blog and bleat in it there! My blog – my pathetic whinge!)

Now I will be over there in the corner hiding behind a monitor all day.

Hmmmph.

I am so bored my aviation geek comes out....

I have just started reading about the development programme of the B52 bomber on Wiki.

You KNOW your bored when you can't even control your inner geek.

bugger.

A while back I mentioned that a woman works here on occasion who is a bit lovely.

OK, she is a bit thin but she is tall so maybe thats an excuse.

and she has very dark eyes. Not that I have noticed them much.

Ahem.

She is in today and has been walking round the office making enough noise as she walks for a 13 stone man! It must be the heals she has on or something. Very distracting - Clomp clomp clomp all over the place.

There was also another woman who only occasionally uses this office in today, and she is - and I am not being nasty here - a foot shorter and at least five stone heavier than clompy tall bird. And you cant hear a sound when she walks by!

(no comments about the old cliche about big people being light on their feet purleeeez!)

Another window into the exciting office life I lead.

God I'm bored, so why shouldn't you be.

For most of today this site has been fighting with my PC and saying

"No, shan't" or timing out. Or just sitting here. Looking at me while the little bar in the bottom corner creeeeeeeeps from left to right. Before crashing.

OK, its the work pc and the network wossnames and such bollocks but it has stopped me getting around on here with anything approaching speed.

But now it appears to be back running at normals speed so I am free to indulge my awful trait of touch typing a load of old bollocks as it pours out of my head!

Yippe for me and hand knitted string beans!

So what shall I entertain you with then.......

Erm. How about the time I, no hang on - that wasn't me.

Or the thing with the thing and the hay and when the slippage or the erm.......

OK. I am running on Dull.

Well look. I promise to try and cram whatever I can in to whatever is left of my life so I actually do have something to say, maybe, sometime in the not too distant future.

right.

I need coffidge as I am still verrrrrr tired.

Had a quick look at some unknown blogs on here.

One of them is one of those commercial ones, you know - run by a business so what its doing here is beyond me. Anywzay it calls itself
"Blah blah business directory for all your events service needs"

OK, so why is there a picture of an attractive young woman smiling at the camera and looking lovely, and why are her vital statistics listed under her picture (including hair length and shoe size)

And those tags - "Dancer" "Model"

eh?

What sort of "events" are they providing services for then?

And how do you get invited......

Just noticed that from the home page of this site, it looks like my blog is No1!

Oh shit!

It's not really, it's just the odd way the featured blogs thing works on the home page.

BUT...

What if people unfamiliar with my dire and vacuous posts see that and come here wanting to be entertained!

Ah well.

Why is standing in a small lift with two people you don't know so embarrassing!

No - I did not make any rude or smelly noises thank you.

It's just that silence. The looking at the incredibly interesting buttons or wall or ANYTHING but the people in the lift with you. The complete and total feeling of uncomfort.

Or is that just me?

They also have wild water fowl and an aviary.

And once you go through the maze and find the underground grotto you find this fella.

And in the castle itself they have, erm, furniture.

so there ya go.

Just had a quick trip round blog world courtesey of the "next blog" button, and many people are commenting on the weather and sunsets and such.

At this time of year, when it is dark in the morning and late afternoon, that I remember a conversation I heard years ago.

I was at one of the Squats in Ilford. I had been asleep on the floor of someones room, as had many other people. All around were bodies in leather jackets showing signs of coming back to life. Out of the window you could see a rich royal blue sky and a few faint stars.

A sleepy voice in the darkness pipes up.

"What time is it?" Well after a party your never really sure when you are, are you. Another voice answered

"Seven O'clock"

A pause, and the original speaker having looked at the sky asked the not unreasonable question

"Which one?"

Just heard someone in the office ask someone else to print them off a copy of the new "Clear Desk Policy" that our company is going to try to enforce (again)

Eh? Print it off?

What, so you can leave it on your desk and get told off for not having a clear desk because you were reading about how important it is to have a clear desk.

Hang on.

Nope, can't get my head round that.

Never attempt to deal with modern technology when you have soup for brains children. Oh no.

Just popped down the road to Mr Ss' office to get my camera off of him. What with packing away the possesions of my little Imelda Marcos (Sarah) on sunday I forgot to pick it up.

To get into the office there are now some nice little Turnstile affairs with card readers and little glass sliding doors. "All security passes are now activated for scanner reading" said the sign.

So I put mine on the reader and it went beep, but refused to open. I did this three times. Nothing.

The helpful doorman on the desk came round and took my pass and used it from his side which worked, but he told me to stay where I was and handed me back my pass, confident it was all going to work.

Which it did, except when I swiped my card at one turnstile the one next to it opened. Trying to get to the open one in time resulted in my getting eaten by the glass panel doors. I did it again on the reader of the doors I had just tried and the other bastard doors, the ones I had just been stood at opened. After getting eaten AGAIN my foggy brain had had enough and I wanted to lie down and have a sleep.

The last attempt worked and I got in to Mr S's secret lair.

Mind you on the way out it all worked properly, obviously as our company has decided to erase our team they have taken the precaution of making sure our passes only let us leave the premises, but not enter.

Sneaky bastards.

Good morning troops. How is it hanging. Is it hanging? or is it pointing?

Nevermind I don't actually want to know.

I still feel tired after the weekend, but not because of the depths of depravity that I plunged myself into, but for the amount of not sleeping I did.

I went to bed earlyish on Friday night and we had an early start on Saturday. A full and fun day with a lot of walking around followed and in the evening I should have, really should have gone to bed early. But no, I watched a great "rubbish" film (Tremours) till about midnight as S&F dozed in unison on the furniture around me. They both snore you know. Shh.

Sunday Sarah was up bright and early and therfore so was I, and the day had some more walking in it and I should have gone to bed much earlier. I was so tired yesterday I was forgetting the names of things and having to mime them to Jo because I could not think of the word "cereal" and things like "Book"

I hate being that tired.

When I did go to bed it was like someone turning off a switch - I was off in seconds. Sleeping I mean you mucky little swines!

And today I is mostly still quite a bit feeling dopey. What a neat sentance that was.

Anyway.

erm.

Yeah, why do I have a blog again.

Have a good morning everyone.

This is the picture that I could not blog from Mrs F's yesterday as her pc was being a git.

Bet your all so glad I managed to do it now eh?

Why is I one of them there things, my hungover stuffed with Sunday roast and guilt 0.5 of a reader?

Because after a fantastic day yesterday and a brief posting of some of the pictures, I have returned here and on unpacking my stuff discovered that my camera is still at S&F's

BOLLOCKS!

I was going to show you the pictures of the great british gurning competition (the only two contestants being Mrs F and Sarah) some piccies of ducks and birds and castles with geese in flight and bore the living eyeballs off of you. So you probably got off lightly.

The trip home on the train from S&Fs' was a bit of a eff up due to some dickwad at one of the stations putting us on slightly the totally wrongo train, but I am over that now.

Sarah and I had a brilliant day at S&F's - Sarah spent the night in Moffs vacant room and had a good night sleep after a minor wobble about sleeping on her own in a different house. In the moring after a belly buster of a brekkie provided by Mr S, Mrs F and I took sarah for a walk in the forest - God it was beautiful in there with all the low angled sunlight reflecting off the ponds and dancing around on the underside of the leaves.

Then back for lunch at theirs and after that sitting in the sun with a few drinks and a mad Sarah, running around in her new red kicker boots bursting the bubbles that I and Mrs F where blowing for her, with the aid of a plastic thingamy and some washing up liquid in water.

A great day.

And bloody Hamilton missed the world title.

Oh well.

In the grounds of Leeds Castle today.

(click for general bigness)

Of course, the best picture will not upload due to this pc being shite. And now my blood pressure is through the roof. Llwnt.

And as I am tired and need to go check on Sarah (who is sleeping in Moffs old room) I cannot be bothered to post any other picks from today. Well not without a long break from this heap of a pc.

So I'm sorry but at some point more pictures will follow of castles and silly face pulling.

G'night.

Share my pictures of today with you.

I would love also to read MY POXY EMAILS!

But the computer here at casa del S&F's is being a total llwnt, so who knows.

I can obviously get on here, but as for showing you my photos of the autum colours, the castle and the silly faces pulled by Sarah and even Mrs F - I think I may be buggered.

Anyway. We had a great time, Sarah is now splashing around in the bath under the supervision of Mrs F and I am having a quick blog.

But don't ask me how we ended up nearer Heaver Castle than Leeds castle eh? That is before we turned round.

Of being here, I will say goodbye for now.

The weekend calls me away and I might as well go now.

Tonight we will be indulging with moderation due to the fact that we have to be up early to collect Sarah and whisk her away to Leeds Castle for the day.

Sarah is then going come back to S&F's as we will stay there for the night which should be fun, with a little trian trip home on the sunday so daddy can watch the last F1 race of the season.

So expect more pictures of a castle based nature and such some time tomorrow evening maybe. You have been warned.

Have a good weekend all of you.

I, god help me, am so bored I have been reading about those old tv shows "H.R.Puffnstuff" and "Lidsville" on Wiki.

Things are bad.

Wibble.

Seeing as I am sooooo bored.

I mean my friends list. But only those who have not posted for a long time. Lost some recently by natural wastage, but I could trim a few more.

Fuck I must be bored if I am considering making myself look less popular.

In other news.

This office smells of chips which is making me hungry enought to eat my own legs.

I was looking on youtube just now for UFO - the rock band. I fancied putting up a song on Channel 136 of a Friday nature and such.

So I typed in UFO, and what do I get - a two part short documentary on the "fact" that the Columbia space shuttle was shot down by a UFO using an advanced plasma weapon. There are photographs that apparently show a purple spiral of light hitting the shuttle during its descent, which alledgedly weakened the structure of the wing. So it didn't get hit by debris on take off then.

Of course, these pictures were confiscated by nasa and they can't be shown. Oh right. BUT in part two, one of the earnest ubergeeks in the film is going to show me some "artistic representions" of what the pictures show.

And yes, I am going to watch it.

Because I'm bloody bored.

And a good bit of utter bollocks never hurt anyone.

You never know, I may be convinced by the end of part two.

As you may know my dear 0.5 of a reader, I am now legitimatly sitting around doing next to bugger all at work but blog and drink coffee. And send texts to people. And read magazines. Well if they are going to erase our team from history what do they expect.

But burried deep down inside me is a small little bit that wants to do the right thing, work wise.

So although I am not taking on any new work I am dealing with any files that I have already started.

I was (honestly) trying to finish off a couple of these files this morning, but every time I try to log onto the finance system on my pc, I get nothing but beeps and silly boxes appearing with red X's in them saying "all licences are in use" or some such bollocks.

So I can't do anything.

Well I DID try, honest.

Right! Put the kettle on!

Due to the cold.

Yep, I thought it was "fresh" yesterday morning but today it's full on winter freeeeeeezing out there. Which I like, sort of. Nothing like walking out of your house and going "Holy shit" as the cold hits you for waking you up.

And of course the train had no heating on it, because obviously it was needed. Yet in the slightly cool and humid bit earlier in the month the heating was always set on kill! I love the trains.....grrrrr.

At the end of our street are two access roads, one on each side of the road, for people in the next street to get to their garages. This morning a cat came trotting out of the one to my left at exactly the same time as a Fox came trotting out of the one to my right.

Mexican standoff time! I almost heard the showdown music from a spaghetti western playing in the background. They stopped, they stared, the cat puffed itself up, the Fox thought "hang on!" then saw me coming and legged it up the road. He was twice the size of the cat as well. And a rather handsome beast too.

Anyway. I gotta get wrapped up and brave the cold to get some milk, so in the words of Captain Oats,

"I'm just going for a walk, I may be some time"

Tis that time of the day when energy levels run low, one hour left and I need a mug of black stuff to help me make it.

This lack of energy has nothing to do with all the brandy Mr S and I sat drinking after dinner as we discussed work, early jet fighters, Coats and other weird bloke stuff.

Oh no.

Apparently they are making another Star Trek movie. This one will be about the early days of Kirk and the chaps.

And guess who is listed as playing Montgomery "I cannea change tha laws o' physics" Scott?

Yep.

Simon "Hot Fuzz" Pegg!

EH?

Some clown on this conference call has just stated that as most of the jobs at my grade are in Edinburgh (with only one job at my grade in London OR Chesterfield) that the interviews for my grade will be carried out in Edinburgh.

Oh do fuck off!

And a man with a rather dull voice is telling us loads of crap, in an Irish accent no less.

Now a lying stupid fuckwit of a woman (and I have met her, this is not just based on the sound of her voice) is trying to answer some questions being put to her by one of our managers.

This big business lark is a right larf is it not.

Here is a little scenario for you:

You meet someone perfect, they are gorgeous and hot, they like the same films, music, food and books that you do. Even the things you differ on are stimulating and you talk about them for hours so that’s good too.

Then they express a liking for a thing or pastime or admiration for a person and you go:

“Oh shit” and suddenly they are not the wonderful person you thought they were. You realise that this whatever it is will cause arguments and drive you apart and you cannot see this person again.

What would it be?

Hmmmmm?

Yes, we are all invited to listen in to a conference call today where some of our "Top bods" will be available to answer any questions that we have over the removal of this team from the pages of history.

Questions about grade issues, location of the remaining posts and redundacy payments abound and are printed on a list for us to make note of the "informative" answers.

Strangely nobody has asked "seeing as you have fucked us good and proper, don't you think its about time you bought us a drink!"

Probably because they wouldn't let me ask anything.

And they have decided that 12.00 would be a good time to do this. Yep, lunch time. Fuckers.

Ho hum.

And no meno, before you start smutting up my post I do NOT mean my bedsheets!

It is a beautiful crisp autumn morning out there, clear blue sky and low angled sunlight. The field beyond the station was mist filled and silent this morning, the birds seemed to all still be asleep.

In other news,

Does no one actually do all of the job they are paid for anymore? There are signs in our toilets saying "Consider your colleagues - clean up after" so we have to do part of the cleaners job. The bin men won't pick up anything that falls out of your bin bags when they collect your rubbish as apparently once it hits the floor it ceases to be rubbish so we have to pick it up. And on tv they were saying that a percentage of children leave primary school unable to read, so they are not doing there job either.

Bastards.

As this post could degenerate into a "When I were a lad" rant with the music from the Hovis adds playing in the background I will stop now.

I find talking to her normally works.

Either in real life or on a blog.

Ahem.

Fucking ARGOS!

we have not even had Helloween yet and you are advertising your FUCKING CHRISTMAS CATALOGUE!

FUCK RIGHT OFF!

thank you that is all.

I know some of you are aware of this, but I hate football. Always have done. Even now when going on holiday I will try to avoid the families in the departure lounge where the dad, son and maybe eldest daughter are wearing matching football tops. Which is a hard thing to do in an English airport.

When I was at junior school I got fed up with the look of stunned incredulity on the faces of other kids when, in response to them demanding to know “Oooo ja support?” I said “No one. I don’t like football”. So I decided to choose a team to “support”

Now back in those days that there league thing only went up to Division 1. None of this confusing “premiership” and booze sponsored rubbish. So it would have to be a team from Division 1 obviously. Why pretend to support a team in the lower divisions?

Now what scientific process did I apply to select my fake team? Being about 10 or so I decided to do it on – colour of strip. Yep, well why not? I know about as much about football now as I did then so it seemed a good way to start.

So I chose Red as the colour. Which gave me a number of choices at the time. Obviously these needed to be whittled down to one and I applied the same exacting scientific approach to this problem. I chose the team with the best nickname.

The Red Devils.

So that is how I, for a few years at least became a “supporter” of Manchester United.

I took no interest in their results, I had no idea who played for them, but at least I had an answer every time someone asked me because, being a boy, I was obviously into football right?

Bollocks.

Well it was when I left the house at just before 07.00 this morning.

Well OK the street lamps were on and making the orange and red leaves look pretty as they swirled around in the wind to drop into piles against fences and cars, but the sun was not up yet.

Now I don’t get as down about getting up before the sun as some people do. I know that this time of year makes some of you want to run for a sunnier clime, not just for the heat but for the longer daylight hours.

But for some reason it does not have that affect on me. Yes true, when it is cold I will be heard saying, “Fuck me it’s freezing, I wish I was on a beach somewhere” but that is just a natural reaction to being cold. If I am out and well wrapped up I’m fine.

I don’t mind it being dark when I get up, and I don’t mind seeing the sun go down before I leave work. It’s the same world out there with all the same stuff in it, good or bad – just with less sunlight.

I can hear a background high pitched wine/hiss.

Its the blood in my inner ears I suppose. Could have high blood pressure but god knows why.

Maybe the situation at work and other places is a bit much.

Things and people.

The stuff of life and relationships.

God I do talk some absolute utter bollocks!

Anyway.

Two snowmen standing in a field, one turns to the other and says "Can you smell Carrots?"

Whatever.

After the mucking about with my "note pad" in the "my blog.co.uk" bit (and not getting it to take off the old message)I now find that the site is not letting me change my profile picture.

bugger.

Wanna put the rum label up and take the devil down.

Sodding site.

Meh!

Saw a picture in the Metro today of a Toyger.

A whatnow?

A Toyger, its a cat that has been bred to look like a tiger. Yep all yellow and gold stripes with a black tip to its tail and yes, it did look cute.

But these creatures are specially bred and there is only one person in England that does it. You may not be suprised to hear that the person who started the breeding process of was an American.

These cat are VERY expensive and are destined to be the latest celeb must have accesory. Prices start at £500 (I can only assume that they have a leg missing or are seconds) and go up to £3500 for a perfect breeding specimen.

£3500 for something that is going to shit in your wardrobe and wake you up in the morning by trying to peirce any part of your body that is hanging out from the duvet with its claws?

No thank you very much!

I appear to have a bit of work to do!

BUGGER!

Well what I am doing is just sorting out any outstanding files that I worked on ove the past month. As this team is not going to exist in the new year we don't have a lot of enthusiasm for new files. The work ethic thing is laying under a desk somewhere forgotten and gathering dust.

In other news, I just realised that a year ago this morning I burnt my original blog to the ground! Happy blog burning anniversary to me!

Mind you, I did come back two weeks later - Madder, wronger and more twisted than ever!

Ahem.

But that also means that in about two weeks this blog will be a year old.

Now where is that damn file.

To play some blues on my guitar and sip some whisky.

Goodnight.

x

Many years ago, when I was working in a different department of this august company, I had a run in with a woman over some paperwork. She wanted our department to do something for her department and a form had to be filled in. She managed to cock this up, and I pointed it out to her politely. She was in a bit of a rush and must have been having a bad day, as she cheerfully replied.

“Oh stop being so fucking PETTY!”

Snatched the form out of my hand and stormed off. When she came back in she thrust it at me and said

“That better be alright now!”

I smiled, took a very long good hard look at the form, twice in fact, and beamed at her

“Yes, it’s perfect”

And out she stormed.

And she has been for evermore called “Hatchet face” in my mind.

And every single time her department had any dealings with our department, I made sure to show her EXACTLY what someone being petty and picky was actually like. For the entire three years I stayed on that team.

Imaging my joy just now, to look up and see Hatchet Face sitting at a desk not 20 feet from me.

We did not, you will be surprised to hear, rush up to each other and do big “Mwah” air kisses at all.

How the fuck do you get a note that you have left on that new little "note pad" thing on here to go away!

I have deleted it and changed it and it still says "Don't forget to get your sunglasses back off Jxxxx"

Which I did on Friday.

I know it is a trivial piffling matter in the grand scheme of things but it is getting on my raspberries!

Why have I been tagged

"Windowbox" and by whom?

Hang on. Are you (whoever you are) refering to me being sick in a window box many years ago?

Well it was in Portugal so that don't count.

I think, well I sort of think that is the only windowbox incident I can think of.

Of course I am now trying to remember anything connected to windowboxes that has ever happened. Some very worrying little pictures are popping up here and there in my head, so thanks so much for that.

eeeep.

You may recall I did a post about the last time I sat in mollys in soho a couple of weeks ago, and how I saw a very attractive woman riding a bike while wearing a very short skirt and stockings and suspenders yes?

Well the good news (for me anyway) is that I just saw her ride past the office while i was outside having a ciggie - and she had a really short skirt and YES stockings and suspenders on, and on display!

Bad news....They were fishnets!

Bugger.

Still, guess where I will be at 2.30 tomorrow!

ahem.

Does it make you giggle when you fart in an empty lift?

OK, let me re-phrase that.

Why does it make ME giggle.

TMI?

My face has the skin texture of a reptile (I must drink lots of water, actually I need to drink lots of water)

I have eaten far too much food this weekend (but it was all sooooo good)

I feel like I am running on dead batteries.

And I am totally bemused by people and things in general.

Thank you for your attention in this matter.

I have said on here somewhere before that my timing is normally pretty good, and sometimes I get it wrong. Sometimes other peoples timing is just on another scale of wrong or, depending how you look at it, even more right.

For example:

I was at an engagement party and there was a lot of drink. That is not an excuse, just a fact. This was of course way back in my twenties, which should be obvious, as you all know that I am now a total pillar of virtue and sobriety.

This story had to be told to me by someone who was there and clear headed, as I don’t remember this part of the evening. I do remember some other stuff that happened and even today after many years have passed I still shudder at the memory.

So anyway, I got a wee bit drunk and wandered off to the toilet. I was at the party with some friends and one of them (a female of my acquaintance who may or may not be a blogger of this parish) was approached by a man who tapped her on the shoulder.

“Excuse me love, I think your mate is having a bit of a problem getting out of the bathroom”

So good female friend came to find me. And there I was sat on the toilet, trousers and underpants around my ankles, totally unable to stand up or even see. How the toilet door got opened is beyond both our memories. So good female friend gets me to stand up, and she kneels down in front of me to pull up my clothing, as she does this I rest my hands on her shoulders. Nothing – I repeat – NOTHING was going on, hey I was very very drunk.

But it was at that PRICISE moment that my then girlfriend, who had been out with some of her friends decided to arrive, not just in the house – but right there on the scene.

For some odd reason, upon seeing me naked from the waste down with a female kneeling in front of me, she burst into tears.

She always had lousy timing that girl.

And no, she didn't dump me on the spot.

A headline I spotted today.

“Obesity as big a crisis as climate”

EH?

How is a big lad in hull going to cause the oceans to die? How is a chubby lass in Letchworth going to melt all the ice caps and drown us all?

Apart from the odd dolphin or seabird gagging on their carelessly discarded burger boxes, how exactly are they as big a problem as climate change?

Maybe the combined weight of all the “Aerodynamically challenged” individuals on Earth will cause our planet to wobble closer to the sun, baking us alive – or orbit further out, freezing us to death.

Who knows?

Well yes actually!

So there. Well erm, actually the last time I was totally green was after Big Al's wife said "Nick, look after this joint till I come back from the bog"

And well, you have to keep a fire stoked by drawing air through it. and I did. And I giggled alot. And everyone pointed at me.

But.

Stream of unconciousness ess iss ess, or something coming up

The planet we are on is quite possibly fucked, or is quite possibly going through one of its natural phases of heating up and then cooling down. Global warming is not new. Anyone who looks can see this. Global freezing is not new. Been going on for, well ice ages actually.

Yes, oh yes - we are dirty little buggers and now the powers that be, and the goth/crusty/traveler/pagan/new age scientists... (who I have a lot more sympathy for, as they are like my distant younger more keen less world weary cousins, or something) are saying "we will do this to save the world" on one side and "you cunts that is not enough" on the other, But for christs sake.

I think its too late.

So fuck it all - STOP SHAGGING AND HAVING BABIES!

The world is fucked, stop arguing and just accept it.

Lets have a party for all the people left and just all go down together.

Ahem.

(ok, I know some of you who may be reading this don't know me or my sense of humour and will not be able to tell that I am in fact, joking in part and just having a wind up at a day that we "must" take part in if we want to be seen as "good humans" but if this does offend you, FUCK RIGHT OFF.)

Well sort of.

Just sat here listening to planet rock and Rush came on doing a cover of "Crossroads" by Cream/R.Johnson and just had to grab the les paul by my side and sit and riff away along a-rush, and attempt a few solos and such along with Alex Leifson.....

I wont tell you who won.

But it were a reeet lafff!

Ahem.

Next time I'll plug into the Marshall and THEN we will see. Oh yes.

(probably see me making a tit of myself but at volume this time.)

Today we went to the tower of jolly old London. We being me, Sarah, Mrs F and shipscook.

Yes I know you can't see us, we are inside!

Then we went into the White Tower.

And saw the sort of decoration I want up over the fireplace in my Pirate Palace

A headache cure?

A room full of scary wooden horses

The white chappel

the building that all the queens bling is in

A good time was had by all.

Gotta go eat now.

Is a book that shipscook has knocking around his gaff at the moment. It is full of unusual things to do in this sceptered isle that will take you off the beaten track and make you wonder at what an excentric country you live in.

One of the things in it, is a celebrity lawn mower museum .

No, you read that right - a museum full of lawnmowers donated by celebrities.

BUT.

I thought that although the promise of seeing Nicholas Parsons qualcast was enough for most people, there was a way of bringing all this lawnmowery goodness to the masses and make a bit of money out of it.

So I came up with the frankly brilliant plan of opening a chain of burger restaurants in the same veign as the "Hard Rock Cafe" but instead of guitars on the walls, you could have you burger and fries under the display cabinet containing Joe Pasquales strimmer, Or Alan Tichmarshes cylinder mower.

Admit it, You'd go once at least!

All the chain needs is a good name and we are away!

Mrs F came up with "The Grassy Knoll" but that might upset the septics a bit.

and I am too busy having a drink to do anymore brainwork so help me out

In other news, pictures of the tower of london trip today may follow shortly.

Or not, you'll just have to stay up late.

Arse monkies!

I had a very helpful message from Shipscook, in which he attached his last CV. I had a quick gander at it and it is all practically the same format as mine, but a little different. Our company likes to change things around week to week so it seems, and different departments do like to do things their way.

But, having had a butchers at his CV, I was struck by a case of the "Oh yeah! I should put that in there"
and then reading through it again I thought, "well thats pointless so that can come out" and then "Oh that is rather poorly worded so I'll change that"

The trouble is that after each one of these thoughts I printed out a new version of the damn thing, and am now well on my way to deforesting the rain, erm, forest thingy.

Enough is enough though.

I am about to stick the "final" version under my line managers nose for his opinion and go for a ciggie while he looks at it and goes "Aww jayzus thas no way te be sayin' dat" and such.

Who said Fridays were fun?

(note - I'm just kidding, I am feeling fine so no sympathy huggy type bollockyshitwank alright?)

You may remember I mentioned a woman called J who works here? yes the one with the icredibly large chest. She is a very nice person but today she has a very bad headache that is making her feel sick.

Good and helpful people that we are, we turned off the lights above her desk and I gave her my sunglasses to wear to ease her pain.

Just a while ago she got up and hurridly went to the toilet to be sick, and what did I think? Pure and selfless little me?

OK what did I think AFTER "shall I hold her boobs for her while she throws?"

I thought "I hope she remembers to take my shades off before she cucks as I am not fishing them out of a toilet bowel full of puke"

I am an angel of mercy, am I not.

ahem.

In other news, the cv is done.

This will be Friday then. And it must be winter, as our office now feels like a tropical hot house! The heating is on with a vengeance and its not that cold outside. Betty Swollocks.

I am all of a cloud of "Eh?" this morning due to reasons various, and as such will make little sense to man, fish slice or boat.

In other news my choice of outfit could have been thought through a little more, no I do not look like a badly poured pint of Guiness (again) but the mid blue V-necked t-shirt and light beige trousers make me look like a doctor on Scrubs. But obviously nowhere as nice looking as Mr Braff, or whatever his name is. (not that I think he is nice looking but lots of girlies have said he is so whatever)

Anyway I look like a doctor. Who wants a free exam?

Tonight I am off to S&F's and tomorrow we take Sarah to the Tower of London which she is Quite excited about. Wants to see all the Queens bling.

Now where did I leave that bloody CV.

I have just surfaced from the murky depths of my CV, and frankly I need a shower. It's like swimming in old sewer water - the amount of bullshit management speak I have to use makes me feel sullied and vile.

Still I found the disk that held my previous cv which was not too out of date - such is the nature of working here that you end up doing CV's with disturbing regularity. I know it has taken me ages and its only half done, but I feel confident that I can finish it off tomorrow morning as its just a case now of typing in the old cobblers in the new lay out style that is now in favour.

I am not sure what good it will do but I and the other chaps and chapeses here are just doing it to show willing and prevent them form saying "Oh you obviously don't want a job here anymore as you didn't apply for the one job that will be in existance MILES away from where you live. So you are in breach of contract - goodbye!"

In other news.

Ah fuck it, what's the point.

Why is this post headed so?

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

Ha ha ha, ya see what I did there eh? God my wit is wasted on you lot.

So I have been doing the CV thing. When I say “doing” I mean I have been looking on a disk that I – in a rare stroke of foresighted genius – have had for a while with all my previous attempts at CV’s on. Now as I have been in this company since 1989 they tend to go on a bit BUT all the info is there. And they only want us to go back 10 years so that’s only a bit of crap to use.

And I have found a rare document – a “performance review” for this job from a few years ago that is FULL of bullshit phrases that this company loves. So I can recycle them and hopefully cause whoever reads the CV to die from a bullshit induced embolism.

But have I actually “put pen to paper”?

Erm, no.

But I have done all the necessary research and you can’t rush a great work of fiction now can you?

Ahem.

That is what today holds for me. With freqeunt breaks to post rubbish on here of course - all work and no blog makes Jack a dull boy. What Jack has to do with it is beyond me though. I just thought, I have never known anyone called jack - well no adults anyway. Odd.

Anyway where was I, oh yeah - In bed and happy.

Right and such, I must hunt around in my desk drawer for the disk with my last attempt at a cv on it and if that is not there I will delve into the depths of the c drive of this pc to see if I have one knocking around on here. Then as I slip below a wave of mounting panic, I will scrabble round the X drive repeating to myself

"It must be here SOMEWHERE! IT MUST BEEEEEEEE!"

So that is my day sorted.

In other news.

I wish I was psychic. I might know what was going on then.

Top boss lady is on the speaker (non video) phone yakking at us, she asks Mr third in command to write something on a flip chart

"Okay Mxx, I'm doing it now"

"I can almost see it all going on" Said she.

Cue someone (possibly me) saying "Oh really?" and leaning forward and flipping the phone The Finger.

Cue head shaking and grinning from my line manager and an outbreak of laughter which made Mr third in command think he was funnier than he ever will be.

A while back I asked what the best back handed compliment you ever got was. And it was very interesting.

So now, as I is a bored and restless thing awaiting the arrival of that hour known as lunch, I want to know what the nicest thing anyone ever said about you (and OK, or "to you") was.

BUT I will NOT accept "I love you"

That is too easy and frankly you lot need to work harder.

Well?

What was it supposed to be for again?

So far I have seen comments ranging from "I was here" to opinions on the content of the blog in question.

Given the nature of some people that we find blogging, could this just not be another "angle of attack" for use by people with an axe to grind?

Or just another place to put smutty comments?

(ahem)

Have you used it yet?

Has yours been "Signed" yet?

Wassit all abaaaart den? (sorry, my east london accent got out there)

We were going to have a chat today with our top managers second in command (nice touch I thought, shows how much she cares) today about our amazing lack of future prospects.

BUT, the cowardly second in command woman has bailed out and is sending Third in command guy. This long streak of high pressure excrement had damn well better take his ever present Blue tooth tossers acessory out of his ear when he talks to us (he keeps it in even in meetings with the big boss) or I may have to have a word.

Ever since these clowns took over this team, they have moved the goalposts on an almost monthy basis, not listened to a single fucking word we have said about how we could do this job properly and given us fuck all support. And now its all going tits up they continue to show us that we are not worth giving a fuck over.

Happy days eh?

You are listening to "Stairway to Heaven" backwards on youtube and reading the lyrics.

Hmmmmm.

I see another one of those days ahead of me.

After a lovely afternoon of pissing off (by accident) a good friend I took myself off home, hoping for a shot of whisky and a pluck on the les paul.

But no, oh no. Arriving home I was told that we had a power cut! Arrg!

So Jo and I set about making a chilli as the sun set and the house darkened. I broke out some candles when it got too dark, and yes I did all the stupid things you do during a power cut - putt the chillis and garlic in the electric blender (doh!) filled the kettle up to boil some water for the rice (double doh!)
Tried to turn the extractor fan on above the cooker (thrice Doh!)

Thankfully we have a load of those little T-light candles as well as normal ones so the house was bathed in soft light. Almost romantic. Also I got the portable CD player and some battery powered speakers to provide some music as we sat staring at the candles after dinner and chilling out.

I had to find a little torch for sarah to have in her bedroom as the power was still off at her bed time. In fact it was off from before 5 till after 9.

When it did come on, all the benifit of relaxing in the candle light went out the window faster than a high velocity greasy weasel leaving the Richard Gere suit at the Hilton, as my computer would not respond to any request to let me at the internet.

BASTARD MACHINE!

So that was my evening.

I need a nice relaxing candle lit evening to get over it.

Things could get no worse I am sure if I duck out a little early.

So I am going to enjoy the joys of traveling home in the rain and take my silly attempts at amusing people and cheering them up with me.

Have a good evening if I dont see any of you later.

And I am bored.

Yep, bloody bored.

Bored bored bored.

More bored than an oil well.

Oh god.

Someone do something.

Ask me something.

throw something.

Meh.

Trapped in an office with nothing to do and the rain doing the falling down thing outside with quite alot of gusto, I have been looking at compilations of cock ups from "House" on youtube.

They do seem to have fun making that show. The interesting thing is that when Hugh Laurie messes up he stays with his fake american accent, which must be hard to switch off.

So here I am, bored and considering a dart out into the rain to stand in the recessed entryway to the office garage and having a ciggie.

It's all go here I tell ya.

It's funny how things in your memory get linked up and one thing reminds you of the other.

Take "The Young Ones" TV programme - every time I see one or even a clip from one, I think about going to the rock club that used to be at the Green Gate/Oscars on the Eastern Avenue.

The reason being that I used to stop off at The Late Mr Kellys house and watch it there before we would wander over to said boozer.

And when I hear certain songs from the same time period, That I would have heard in the club, I also remember sitting watching the young ones before we went out.

Odd, but then so is my brain.

Have any tv programmes got linked in your memory to other things?

Sometimes when I stumble into the bathroom and look at my sleepy mug in the mirror I am amazed and shocked by what I see.

It must be something about being middle aged, but my eyebrows seem to have developed a life of their own.

When I look at them in the mirror first thing, it seems the hairs have been caught by me in the middle of some sort of “Mexican wave” and are looking suitable embarrassed but frozen in action – looking at me as if to say

“Oh, erm, your up then? We were, just, ya know, having a bit of a party.”

So I batter and slap the wayward fur down but some of them refuse to play, they refuse to give up on the party spirit and stay stood resolutely to attention. That’s when those troublemakers, the obvious ringleaders, get plucked! I will not put up with sedition in my eyebrows.

Well thats how I feel. I have a pain right over my eyes that wont go away. It has lifted a bit after a bout of medicinal Whisky and guitar playing, but not enough to allow me to spend ages staring at a pc screen.

So, clever genious boy that I am, I am going to go stare at a tv screen and watch last weeks Heroes.

Goodnight.

x

The clock on the clubhouse wall says it time to go!

Oh goody!

As Jo and Sarah are out tonight I may have to see if I can pick up a cheap dvd to entertain myself as I sit and stuff my face with sausage sandwiches.

No, I can actually cook - I just can't be arsed to do it tonight for just me so sarnies it may well be.

Anyway the point is I don't have to sit here anymore fighting to stay awake.

So I am not going to.

Of course I may have a little snoop around on here later. I am addicted after all.

I got home yesterday and saw that the free computer chair that came with the new pc desk for my room had been assembled.

It sat there in the music room looking all black and wheel ridden.

So what is the first thing you think I did to check its suitability?

Did I

A - sit and check it was the right hight and was comfortable to sit at the desk on?

B - adjust the back to ensure optimum lower back support and prevent lumbar pain?

C - Make sure that the wheels on the chair could run properly over the short tuft carpet in the room?

D - sit on it, spin round with my feet off the ground going "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" till I remembered how old I am?

Go on, bet you can't guess.

Ahem.

The idiot cleaners that look after our toilets here are....erm, idiots.

They fill up the toilet paper dispensing boxes (no loo rolls here) with as many paper sheets as they can, cramming them in as tight as possible. They do the same with the paper towels that we are supposed to dry our hands on.

The reason they do this is, I think, that they believe if they can cram as many in as possible they will not have to come back as often to fill them up.

BUT, the dumb bunnies have not worked out that as the little paper towels are now packed in so tight, you have to grab a big pinch of them to even get them to come out, and when they do they normally rip! so you have to try to tug some more out. Wasting more paper than if they would just fill them up to a reasonable level.

Oh god, think of the trees and their sacrifice for the sake of our clean arses and dry hands.

Or something.

It's a shameful waste.

I just said this or something similar to a friend on one of there blogs. They had just written about their weekends Quad biking stuff and mud and nearly killing themselves.

And I said to myself and then them obviously, that I don't do dangerous things.

Then I had a thought. And a thunk. Hmmmm. Define "dangerous"

Being driven to and from rehearsals in a car packed with heavy amps and guitars by a driver who drinks and drives. As in Drinks WHILE he drives. As in drinks another can of Tennents Super streangth alcy drink while piloting the car along the highway after a number of joints. Dangerous?

Being on the back of a 1100 cc motorbike being driven by someone who has recently split up with his girlfriend and wondering if it is the done thing to hang on to him or the back of the bike as he makes it rear up like a mad horse at speed rapidly approaching 100 mph on a crowded east london dual carridge way?

Walking around New York in 1990 wearing a leather jacket and jeans, with two other people in similar garb and generally thinking "hang on, we look a bit like a street gang or something" and wondering if its going to be taken the wrong way as we wander into the wrong sort of area due to us not knowing that you should never turn left when you leave our hotel? Was that dangerous?

Taking a very nice and curvy young lady back to my place when I knew that her boyfriend was a foot taller than me and possessed of a very short temper? OK that one nearly ended in tears so maybe that was dangerous.

Taking Moff on all those mental funfair big dipper things because her mum and dad were keen for me to do my duty as godparent? Well it felt bloody dangerous.

Hnmm, maybe I have done some dangerous things. Just nothing that adventurous or sporty. OK, skateboarding doesn't count - I was young. The rock climbing doesn't count either, erm, that was supervised. The staggering over the live rails in a siding with Kizlode and the late Mr Kelly don't count either because that was not our fault and we were drunk.

See. I have lived a very un eventful life compared to most.

My week just past did not contain much in the way of sleep.

Coughing was a bugger on the rare occasions when I did actually find myself in bed before midnight, and on other occasions I was out being "at one with the alcamahol" and stuff.

So today I am sat here with the old droopy eyelid scenario in full force.

Coffee is not working too much and I fear greatly that I will be doing the nodding dog impression on the train tonight.

I could do what my colleague "Dangerous" Dave does, which is just give up all pretence and fall asleep at his desk at lunchtime, but I worry that the people I work with will take all maner of revenge on me for past jokes and comments.

Waking up with a rude word on my forhead would be a distinct possibility.

I have been hard at it reading posts and watching you tube! The time has just flown by.

Must do something constructive. erm.

Well I have a new copy of Guitarist magazine that is not going to read itself.......

And the coffee is not going to leap out of the jar and into a cup without some prompting and maybe a little helping hand. I don't yet have heat vision so I will have to actaully get up and go over there and put the kettle on - staring at the water very very hard is not raising its temperature by any noticable amount. Certainly not by enough for coffee making purposes.

In other news, a joke (that only certain age groups may get)

What do you call a spy that wanks too much?

Hairy Palmer.

(Too obscure I imagine for all the youngsters on here)

Yep, Monday is all of an arrived and here thing in an ongoing styleeeeee.

And my line manager is out of the office.

And we have hardly any work to do and no inclination to do it. This is what happens when your told your team is to pop into non existence in the very near future.

And I have internet access.......

So a long day of pointless posts full of trivicality and nonsensiclusters of wobbly confustication could be in the offing.

Or not.

Hmmmmmmm, what shall I write about.........

Erm.............

I'll get me coat.

Stop It!

in other news,

welks. ?

Nope, neither do I.

Yes.

Ahhhh the dreaming spires of Cambridge....

Eh?

Well that is what you are supposed to say about that place that is full of bastids on bikes innit?

The only difference is that the twats on push bikes in canmbridge is that they are probably better educated and their parents are wealthier than the C*NTS in London, so if they hit you as they glide serenerly though the red lights, sueing them is a better financial prospect.

And it was chilly.

And we had some drinkies.

And I am sorry subs for the rubbish about growing another penis on my shoulder.

But it made you do the dirty laaarf thang that you do sooo well. Too well actually.

Any hoooo.

We had ham eggs, which was veeeer confusticating but tasted good.

and such.

and

erm

OK your bored, I'll go now and have a pony and another drink.

Like I need one.

Had a great day subby baby.

well, Stevie Ray Vaughn is playin Voodoo Child on my mp3 player, nothing is happening here at Casa del soon to be jobless, and another cup of black coffee is going the way of all the rest today.

Dull post this eh?

So why am I typing if I have nothing to say. Well about a year ago when the work here was a bit scarce but our future looked good, I would sit and type any old bollocks into the white box and post it. just for something to do.

Then I got this thing about if I can only blog a couple of times a day it had better be good.

Then I thought "If you have nothing to say - say nothing" and I would read other peoples blogs and comment where I could but not put anything up unless I was inspired.

Looks like I have now gone full circle back to knocking out whatever shite pops up into the void in my head.

Great news eh folks!

I'll get me coat.

As I have mentioned with dull and monotonous regularity, I used to work till recently in an office near Soho.

When 24hr drinking became possible by law, I was amazed that none of the venues in that area seemed to be taking up this offer. So when we moved our office here to the dullness of Old Street I forgot all about it.

Till this morning that is.

There is a vile modern pub on the corner of Old Street and Bunhill Row that now serves booze from at least 09.45 in the morning.

Because that is when I went over to the supermarket to buy some ciggies ans saw a group of "old boys" sitting outside with a pint in front of each of them.

This is not exactly a Bohemian area, and yet it is the first place that I have seen (or at least noticed) the new licensing laws in opperation. No sign of it being taken up in Soho when I was there, but here it is in dull, dirty, noisey Old Street.

Maybe I was not paying attention.

Got a lift in with Mrs F in her car this morning, as there is no need to rush in anymore and enjoyed the sight of the early morning sun and the mist filled forest clearings on the way in. The radio was on as we chatted and something on the news made me listen.

Apparently a “Senator Kennedy” was having a go at George W over something or other (for being a tit probably) but it made me think.

If you were a member of the Kennedy family, would you choose to go into politics? And if you did, would you ever make a fuss about anything ever?

I mean it’s not exactly worked out well for them in the past has it!

To our office just next to SoHo now obviously.

Bugger.

We were supposed to be moving back there at the end of this month, but given the recent events that will not be happening.

I was in the area last night, at the non blurry and slurred part of the evening, having a pint in Mollys in the Charring Cross Road. As I sat at the window and gazed out, I was reminded of why exactly working in the area was so good.

One was the sight of Jo Wyllie (or however you spell it) the Radio 1 dj standing outside with a friend waiting for a cab. (not that I think she is anything special but she is the first "celeb" I have seen in ages and I saw her within 15 minutes of being back in Mollys)

The second was the sight of a very attractive woman on a bicycle. She had a very very short skirt on. And Black fishnet stockings and suspenders. Clearly visible black fishnet stockings and suspenders. Did I say she was very attractive?

I will miss working in that area SO much.

I brain not have cells to rub two together.

Or something.

in other news.

no one here gives a fuck.

Well it will be in a short while matey!

Great meeting.

The sparkly new staff template is rolled out before us. We look.

And we look again.

And our team is not on it. In fact, it does not exist.

So we have to apply for brand new jobs within the unit. But there are no jobs at my grade anywhere in london. There are four in Edinburgh but that is a tad of a long commute.

Oh well.

I am living in interesting times it would seem.

In other news, there will be a slightly drunk bloke dressed in black with a Marshall baseball cap covering up his Fracis Rossi hair style staggering around London tonight. Please do try not to run him over.

Thank you that is all.

“So why not just not blog you Muppet!” I hear you cry with your accustomed annoyance and lack of concern.

BECAUSE I THOUGHT WE HAD A DIALOGUE GOING HERE.

Erm, because I am afraid everyone will forget me and I am an attention seeking eeejit with low self-esteem?

Who knows and more importantly – who cares.

Today I announce the joyous news that my drippy icky cold is moving away. But the fucker has moved to my chest and I can’t stop coughing. Sore ribs and not much sleep, but will that stop me from going out for a drink tonight? Hmmmm? What do you think? I mean really, how long have you been reading this stuff? You have to ask?

In further other news we have yet another meeting today, which not one single person here is looking forward to. As it will be probably “Rather annoying” news. But fuck ‘em, I will sit at the back and cough through all the important bits and get dirty looks from everyone.

I am in one of those moods today.

Reports of my sanity have been greatly exaggerated.

And in conclusion,

Badger toffee.

I arrived back in the jolly old office of dull and decided, as I didn't like the look of the suit waiting for the lift, I would walk up to the fourth floor.

Not smart, as on the landing on the first floor there was a maintenance chap struggling with one end of a ladder that was being carried by an out of site work chum of his on the next landing up.

Every time they got to a landing there was a lot of "no up, not that way - round a bit" stuff disturbingly reminiscent of The Chuckle Brothers but they did manage to get round each landing. At the fourth floor our ways parted as they went on to the fith.

I dump my coat on my chair and wander across the office, out of the door to the other stairwell and go into the toilet. Coming out and opening the door to the office, who (or rather what) should I see pointing at me? Yep, that bloody ladder and the two lads that had already humped it up to the fith floor via the other stairwell!

"Fuck are you following me?"

"Oh look we caught you again, nah mate"

They then took the ladder up to the fith floor via the OTHER stairs.

Moments later as I sat at my desk, the fire alarms go off. We all rise swearing lightly and grab our coats, only for one of the ladder carriers to come through our office with what looks like a big can of hairspray in his hand saying loudly

"Its a false alarm, sorry, its' not real - it was me! Better go tell all the other floors I suppose"

Franky I have no fucking idea.

meh.

does the guy that sits next to me at work start everyday with a cup of soup that smell like fresh piss?

Well who am I to talk. I had a fish finger sandwich for breakfast. In bed.

Each to their own I suppose.

Had a strange and rough nights sleep last night. Went to bed with a headache that I couldn't shift and had some very weird dreams.

Some of the blame for these has to be laid at shipscooks door, as we sat and watched some episodes of "Family Guy" that he had taped. So the first dream that I had featured the cast of said cartoon show. Don't ask me what was going on because I can't remember.

I woke up from this one feeling rather confused and then realised that the pain in my chest was not a heart attack, but bloody Ptolly the cat trying to trick me into thinking it was morning and I should feed him.

little furry llwnt! peircing my nipples in the middle of the night is now way to get food.

The second dream I had concerned Francis Rossi and Rick Parfit from Status Quo. They were in a bar having a drink and all the people in the bar where whispering to each other and saying

"Doesn't he look like Old Nick"

I have no fucking idea what that one was about.

Then the cat bastard bit me on the elbow, so I woke up and wished him a very good morning.

Ahem.

"You'll believe a cat can fly."

Sometimes my timing is perfect – I walk out of the office just as a stunningly beautiful woman walks past, I arrive in the bar just as a round of drinks is being got or I finish doing “something” just in time to catch a brilliant film or programme on TV. Ahem.

Sometimes it’s not as good.

Take just now, I popped outside to go into the shop a few doors down and walked in through its propped open door to see the very pretty oriental girl is working there at the moment. Good timing? Well it would have been, had not me walking in through said open door coincided perfectly with a sewage truck just starting its pump up outside the building next door as it began to suck up the vile and putrid liquid that is gathering in the newly dug foundations. This caused said truck to emit a cloud of the most disgusting fumes that smelled for all the world like the floor of a cowshed during week two of a major strike by the farm hands over mucking out duty.

And this lovely smell wafted in with me as I entered the shop.

I got a certain look from the young woman. Of course I could not go “That’s not me” because that clearly would have meant it was. So I just smiled, paid for my milk and left. Turning a nice shade of red as I did so.

1 The woman in charge could not organise a piss up in a brewery - 20 people attended, first room sat 10. We traipsed down two floors to a room that could hold us all but was next to a bit of the office where they do quite a lot of noisey banging around of stuff and shouting.

2 I will not be retiring to anywhere even slightly hot.

3 The woman doing the talking had very sexy hips and thighs. And very nice long brown hair.

4 I am very tired.

5 If we would all stop living so long we would not be putting such a strain on the pensions plan. I was going to point out that as I am doing my best to smoke and drink myself into an early grave I should get double the pension of everyone else but thought it best to keep it to myself. My selfless dedication to the company will have to go unrecognised for another year.

6 Buses are very crowded at 09.00.

7 I am crap at understanding financial matters.

I am orft to another jolly meeting this morning, the first of two this week.

This one is about the results of "the consultation process regarding changes to the pension scheme"

How many more ways can this company think of to say

"BEND OVER AND GET READY TO BE FUCKED!"

I will probably not be able to afford to stop working until I have been dead for a number of years.

The second meeting is on Wednesday when they announce the new staffing template and we see how many less jobs there are going to be than people, and find out if we have to apply for them. Again. Our own jobs. Hmmmm.

Apart from that, everything in the garden is rosey.

ahem.