OK, dont know if I will get on-line tonight, depends if shipscook has any work to do and Mrs F getting off the pc for five minutes - but if I don't this could be my last post till late on Sunday possibly.

I will be armed with a camera in liverpool (one good way to make sure I don't appear in any piccies) and will bung up the most incriminating ones as friends only posts at some time. The delay will be to allow the bribes to arrive.

So, see some of you in Liverpool tomorrow.

Everyone else have a good weekend.

1 - a three bedroom flat overlooking the thames at Greenwhich or somewhere similar.

2 - An appartment on Defkalinios Street in Paphos, Cyprus.

3 - Pearly Gates, the 1959 Gibson Les Paul owned (at the moment) by Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top.

4 - A lambourgini Miura, complete with Vikki Butler-Henderson as my personal driver.

5 - A self filling and self emptying Dish washer and a Washing machine for both of the above abodes.

6 - A vinyard, complete with fully competent management and staff, that runs at a profit (until I start eating into the wine cellar)

7 - A 747 fitted out internally as if for a rock band, with bedrooms a bar and such, again with a full flight and ground crew, to take me and anyone who fancies coming anywhere in the world. Also for taking Sarah to anywhere in the world we felt like going.

8 - A sloop. with a crew. for the same reasons as above and to allow me to live the pirate nonsense to the full. And by full I mean just sailing around to nice places and goingg ashore to behave badly.

9 - A full size remote contol Dalek.

10 - A black Labrador.

http://deadgirldiaries.blog.co.uk/2007/11/29/yarr~3369852

A mouthful of pirate goodness first thing in the morning.

ahem.

This morning I sat at my desk and listened to Glasgow Steve having a bit of a go at Bev for “coming in wi’ a bad attitude and dean nuthin’ bit moan”

Excuse me!

For the past three months GS has been like a bear after a broken glass enema! I know he has a number of personal problems but so does everyone else. To hear him saying that was just too much.

So what did I, brave upholder of everyones right to be a right miserable git at work actually do.

Stand up for Bev and remind Steve what a llwnt he has been for the past months?

Nope, I went outside for a ciggie and left them to it.

Meh.

Which is a bit like gibberish but with more talking that makes the sense thing.

This is not going to be a very structured post so deal with it.

I am going to change my profile pick to the one of me taken by me last xmas so you can all see my middle aged and balding boatrace. This will give those of you going to liverpool something to aim at/recognise/avoid.

I am indeed packed up, but had to leave my ickle speakers for my mp3 at home which is a bugger due to servere lack of space in the back pack.

So I have technically left for liverpool and am on my way. Well first I have to get through a day at work, then tonight I will be at S&F's ready for the off on the morrow. So I have left home.

"Home" where is that. Is it the place your paying for, where the vast majority of your beloved guitars are, the place your daughter lives, or is it the place you feel most wanted and at ease?

See, this is what happens when you don't close the door to your blog behind you and lock it - Philosophers sneak in, bastards that they are.

And further more and to wit to who, I am now in a total confustication as to what is going on where.

Cake and arse party ahoy!

We were going to go to place A and meet B for a quick munch then go to C to meet the majority of people and proceed on mass with the evenings drunkeness.

Now venue A has become T and B is going to be there not at A, I have forgotten where C is frankly and I don't care. I am having logistical dyslexia. This is why I just tag along behind S&F, making rude comments and drinking while they sort everything out.

But still, apart from a thing in my head going "fuckitfuckitfuckit" over something totally not liverpool connected I am and is and do fine.

And ready to go!

Fot those of you who don't speak Bugs Bunny thats an attack of "the nerves"

About going to Liverpool on Friday.

Why? Well since last year I get more nervous about everything, but I'm getting better. And the reason I had them was I realised I had not sorted out what clothes I was taking as I was still sheparding Sarah through her bed time routine of teeth brushing, milk drinking and book reading.

and some other things are binging round my brain doing stupid stuff to the old mental pathways. Ho hum.

It's not as if it was hard to do - pick up some t-shirts and underwear and put them in my back pack - easy.

And having done it I feel better. So tomorrow I stay at S&F's so on Friday morning we can start our epic train journey to "de Pool"

At least we are going first class.

eeeeeep!

Our favourite happy wanderer from the Canadian wilderness has got off a train at the wrong place.

D'OH!

So she is a couple of hours late but OK and headed now in the right direction.

Well she has done very well so far.

And Leeds is easy to miss. I suppose.

heh.

The first letter of my first name is “N” (No! reeeeeeeeeeely?)

Stuff that starts with N

Famous Singer: Noddy Holder.

Four letter word: Nuts.

Street that you have been down: New Bond Street.

Colour that expresses your mental
State: Neige – a new and exciting dull colour

Gift/Present you would like to
Receive: New computer.

Type of Vehicle: NASCAR racing saloon.

Things in a souvenir shop: Naff over priced crap my daughter buys.

Boy Name: Nick. (Why not)

Girl name: Nancy

Favourite movie title: Nite of the living dead (look, that’s right ok!)

Alcoholic Drink: Nasty cheap Vodka!

Occupation: Night Watchman. (As in Terry Pratchet)

Famous Celebrity: Nigel Havers.

Magazine: Nice Rack monthly. (I made it up. Honest)

UK city: Norwich.

US city: New York. (that took some time!)

Fruit: Nectarine.

Reason for being late for work: Narcolepsy.

Something you throw away: Nasty old pants (pay attention Row)

Something you shout: “Now would be good you C*NT!” – Geat for getting a table at “the Ivy” ahem.

Well that filled some time and wasted some of yours.

Normally when I am bored and bereft of work, I do some sort of stupid list.

But I cant think of anything to do. Five wossnames you would thingey, Five occasions you have doodahed in public, Five wotists you would love to ahem, Five times you have had to thingey without oooja.

Nothing, total lack of inspiration.

bugger.

Maybe something will come to mind after a ciggie. Some daft tale of wotsit from my past.

God,

Me and Shakespere eh,

you cant see the join.

Meh.

I have checked through the files on the team drive in which work is put ready for us eager workers to download and deal with.

And they are all empty.

And my manager is on leave today.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm. So, I have nothing to do and all day to do it in.

Yayy!

How long do you recon before depression and boredom kick in?

If I don't want to stand out like a sore (soon to be mugged) thumb.

"ere geezer! gis anova drink ovar 'ere when yer reddy!"

"Fuck my old boots!"

"Oh right, thas da famous Liverfuckingpudlian sense of humour is ya caaant!"

"Acutually barman, could I have a straw with that?"

"I don't actually rate John Lennon at all, and his wife! jeeeeez"

"eh calm down! calm down! and stop standing on my neck! Officer"

Only kidding. I am looking forward to it, never been to Liverpool. Promise not to bring any monkeys.

eeeeep.

NOT!

An add on a billboard at the station was trying to convince me that a new sparkly phone/palm/organiser/beeping bastard/colour screened/ thing was what I needed most in the world.

But what genius thought of the strap line

“Feet on the platform – Head in the office”

WHAT! Fuck right and most directly off at your earliest convenience and take your crap advert and flashing peeping toy with you.

It would have been more truthful to have

“Now the bastards will expect you to do even more hours for the same shite pay”

And frankly, when my feet are on the platform, my head is far from the office and that is fine and dandy. Ok it may be filled with monkeys, it may be filled with longing for ideal situations/fantasy worlds, it may be filled with happy memories of chats and times with friends, it may be filled with water and have something nasty floating in it, but it IS NOT going to be in the bloody office thank you so very chuffing much.

Even when I get to the damn office my head isn’t here most of the time.

And I like it that way.

Curse number one - The curse of My Daughters Class.

In all of her school life so far, from reception to the last year before entering the juniours, Sarah has been in the same class of 30 kids. On going up into Junior school the class was split up and mixed around. Jo said to me earlier that out of the oringinal 30 kids parents, 7 couples that she knows of have split up! That seems rather a high number for one class. Above average almost. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

Curse number Two - "504 gateway time out error" curse.

Oh for FUCKS SAKE!

Hardly any blogging for me tonight. Again.

Much as I thank each and every one of you for it.

My interview was not delayed too much, and I have been catching up reading blogs since then, well after coming back from a post interview visit to the pub to read the new Guitarist Magazine that is.

I have been telling various people in the office to fuck off, in a friendly way of course, when they have been making comments about the fact that I am in a shirt and a pair of trousers, but that is to be expected.

The problem is that normal trousers don't have enough pockets in them. I am used to fatigues now with the pockets on the thighs. Much more storage space, so I have had to stash my ciggies, phone, lighter and keys in the "normal" pockets of the trousers. Which makes them bulge in flattering/embarrasing places!

Luckily I thought ahead and removed all the gubbins from the pockets and put them in my jacket. Didn't want to walk into the interview looking like I had a semi! It could have given the wrong impression.

Mind you, the other girl from HR asking the questions IS a hottie.......

Nah, behave you old tart.

I think that went far too well.

When I came out, one of the managers here said "Well done"

"Eh?"

"Well we heard you made them laugh"

"Oh is that good?"

I was in there for a scant 40 mins. Mind you the guy before me was only in there for 25.

Glasgow Steve was in there for 50! and he said he would be out in 10.

Anyway its over.

I can now roll up my sleaves and scratch my bollocks in comfort. No more pretending to be something I'm not.

The boss woman. Head of the section. The one everyone thinks is a bit crap but still mysteriously got her job back. She is sitting in on the interviews.

They have just started. Half an hour late. Because she cares so much she apparently cant work a fucking alarm clock and get up early to take into account the time a journey into central london takes.

Oh well.

I am not, for once in a t-shirt and fatigues. No I am in a shirt and a pair of trousers.

Fuck.

But the shirt is black and is going to remain tie free, and the trousers are dark blue and cost me nothing - made work buy them for me years ago.

Black and blue, I look like a big bruise.

Well that is the sum total of the effort I am making for this poxy interview. One possible job between six of us, which could possibly be in a part of the country we cant get to. So we wont be able to take it.

My date with destiny or whatever is at 11.00, I should be out by 12.00 just in time to go fume over the pub.

I am still in an odd mood after yesterday but I will try to act my way round that in the interview but there will come a point, after one more stupid question and one more answer that sticks in my throught due to its high bullshit content, where I might be tempted to do just think "bollocks to this, lets have some fun"

You know the bit where they say, "do you have any questions?" I often want to say

"Yes, if you were travelling in a car at light speed and you turned the headlights on, what would happen?"

"I don't know"

"Then forget it, I don't want to work for you"

If I try to look at a friends post that is not on the front page - by clicking on more blogs.....Gateway error timeout!

If I go through my friends list, click on their profile...so far so good. Click on their blog...goody! try to read the comments or add one - GATEWAY ERROR TIME OUT!

Try to do almost anything and I get that stupid fucking message.

Frankly I am not a happy bunny.

Fuck blogging, I will go do something else.

I am bored

I am tired

I am pissed off.

that is all.

Feeling odd. I am actually feeling very tired and a little down.

The tiredness is due to excess fun at the weekend.

The down is due to a couple of things, one of which is the impending interview I have tomorrow.

Yeah, the one for my own job. It appears they are going to be asking lots of silly questions and we will have to sell ourselves to them. Bollocks.

Not good at that sort of stuff, especially when I think that they are treating us all like shit.

Oh well, I will do my best to say what they want to hear and such. I do actually feel nervous. I wonder if I'll sleep tonight.

The other reason is just stuff, people, you know. Things. Not being as you would like them to be.

Meh.

In other news, Mixed Mexican cheese and spring onion sandwiches are yummy in the extreme.

That I have only just noticed (and I have been smoking a packet of them since saturday, I know - I'm slow) apart from the full on scary health warning pictures, is the fact that there are 25 in a pack.

Odd.

I am tired but not too bad after hitting the sack at 10.00pm last night.

Yes I was that knackered.

Kelly is a wonderful person and it was great to see her this weekend, and I get to see her again along with some other bloggers not previously met next weekend!

Anyone know where I can get a new liver?

In other news the sunrise this morning looked amazing - reds and gold and blue. Pitty it was over the tube station and not some stunning countryside vista or the mountains or whatnot.

Oh well. You have to work with what you've got I suppose.

Have a good monday!

Never mind all that limp wristed health warning bollocks that we get on our packets of ciggies -"smoking kills!" and all that, on canadian cigarette packets they have a picture of someone on a ventilator!

On the multipack they have pictures of cancerous lungs and rotting teath!

Anyway, just off for a smoke in the garden.

Just used Mrs F's back door and....Hang on, knowing you lot you are just gonna make a huge hill of smut out of that so lets try again.

I just popped out to the garden via the back door at Mrs F's house for a ciggie and saw the moon glowing behind the clouds. So I went for the camera...

I think the one above looks like an ink drawing. Now I know Madders and AJ are the real photography geeks around here with far better bigger equipment (not to mention cameras) than I have, but I like the effects I get on my little camera (so madders and AJ - get oooot intae the garden and get snapping upwards!)

Also took this one, which is a bit more glowy and nearer to how it looked with the naked eye.

Mrs F says the above photo is "Very Mary Shelly"

Did she have a digital camera as well then?

1. Which band would you like to see reform? Thin Lizzy but with Phil Lynott back from the dead and the Robertson/Gorham guitar pairing.

2. What are your thoughts on the Spice Girls and Boyzone reunions? Kill them all now!

3. What's the best British band of all time? Led Zep.

4. Which band would you like to see split up and why? Coldplay! Bastards!

5. Friday fill-in: If I formed a band I would call it The Secret Creatures and I would be the Lead Guitarist/backing vocalist.

Never mind moving to a swanky refurbished office in the heart of London, lets make this dull box of joy even more fun to work in!

Oh yes. A brilliant plan it was. Our teams Kettle is rattling with lime scale and as there is nowhere around here to buy any thing to clean it out with, a couple of women on our team went hunting in the recently vacated floors of this building and came back with three unwanted kettles.

They thought they had better boil them a couple of times first to make sure they were clean (or some such weird thing) so plugged all three of them in to an extension lead and let them go at it.

They blew the fuse in the wall socket and didn’t realise. They also didn’t realise that one of the fridges was plugged into the same wall socket.

So this morning there is a dark damp and already starting to smell patch of carpet around the base of the fridge. On Monday it should smell beautiful!

Maybe we can use it as a lever under health and safety to get us moved to the posh office.