Area 136

As I take my expensive digital 8 track recorder out to the car of a friend (and all this talk of expensive things is not just me showing off, there is a point to this "Bragging") I notice a printed note sticking out of the inside of our letter box.

I hand it to jo and go out. I come back and get the two remaining expensive Gibson les pauls, the costly Vox Tonelab amp symulator, the relatively inexpensive foot controler for said item and the cheap as chips SR16 drum machine. My friend drives off with said goodies, they are storing them for me during this "interesting" phase of my life.

I close the door and ask jo what the note was about and who it was from.

It was from our local constabulary, who inform us that in our street over the past week, there have been THREE nocturnal burglaries. The last one was last night.

They, the wonderful watchers of the night time streets, ask US if we - the residents, have seen anything suspicious and would we like to tell them about it on a selection of numbers.

Well yes actually, I have noticed something suspicious my fine officers of the law. A huge and fucking distinct lack of police officers in the area SINCE I MOVED IN OVER 10 YEARS AGO!.

I am sure some of the other people in the street have seen some suspicous things as well. Like that big gap where the telly was, the lack of PC, and an inabillity to locate anything into which to place a CD of calming new age music.

So you, wonders of law enforcement that you are, rather than getting off your fat, doughnut and curry stuffed arses, have decided to scare the crap out of everyone with a peice of fucking PAPER rather than, oh I dunno, PATROL THE FUCKING STREET till these cunts (who obviously have sussed that you can do nothing but drive around really fast up and down the dual carriage way with your lights on showing off) are happily falling down the stairs of the local chokey. Repeatedly.

My contribution to the police benevolent fund will not be forthcoming anytime soon.

Twats!

Good job all that expensive stuff (seeeee! told you there was a point to that) is out of the house.

I just have to move a skipload of cd's, a pantechnicon of sundry guitar FX pedals and a large blue box of porn now.

ahem.

I need to click on a file (of old bollocks because someone has asked me to do something stooopid and work related)

I move my optical mouse in a motion across the desk that should take my pointer to the file in question. The pointer does not move. I do the running the mouse backwards and forwards bit that you do when you think your pc is contemplating having a kip, just to wake it up. No movement from the pointer on the screen. I move the mouse slowly and deliberatly across the desk. Nothing.

I look at the mouse in my hand.

The mouse in my hand is my mobile phone.

Ah, right.

Llwnt.

Was the thought that trotted through my under populated head this morning as I stood, very windswept and not that interesting, outside having a ciggie.

A "Gentleman of the road" was walking by on the other side and on his back he had one of those big "I'm off round the world to make Row jealous" backpacks, crammed full of stuff. Strapped to the back of this was a slightly smaller battered suitcase, and in each hand he had three dirty carrier bags full of stuff.

Why give yourself the hassle of lugging all that about all day?

But I have seen stranger. I once saw a homless woman with a 2ft by 3ft Gainsborough print in a gilt frame!

I suppose it would brighten up any doorway for the evening but did seem a bit excessive.

I'm hungry

and I need a dump.

What to do, what to do.........

Go put more in

Go let some out.

in other news

Good morning.

I was wandering around and taking pictures.

Late last night.

I am stood standing there, texting someone or other something along the lines of

"Not under a train, no no no no no no hic!"

and as I stab wildly at the keys I see a cat trot up towards me in my peripheral vision.

Then it stops right in front of me with its nose inches from my legs and looks up. And I look at it and realise its a Fox.

It looks at me with an open and inquisitive face as if to say

"And?"

So, being polite and well manered I say

"Yes? sorry, got nothing for you"

It looks at me for a little longer and trots off about its business.

Blimey. That is the closest I have ever been to a fox.

God they are beautiful!

The problem with all this working up here and avoiding work Smoking taking trips outside for fresh air, is that you see some celebs.

Saw one just now, an actress of middle age who I KNOW, but have no clue as to her name. Even if someone tells me I will have to take their word for it.

It was the woman who played the female neighbor in the 70's tv production of "Abigails Party" (you know, the frumpy one) and has been in loads of other stuff as well.

Arrrrg! What IS she called.................

It could be the latest thing. Being up here in the swanky london you do see some odd things.

The latest look for young chaps around town appears to be very skin tight drainpipe trousers and "Bum freezer" jackets.

How very up to the minute.

How very 1960's as well.

How very silly it looks.

Yay! I have turned into my dad!

Eeeeeep!

As you know, Weird inc have spent loads of money refurbishing the first floor offices of this four floor building so Shipscook can have somewhere nice to sleep during the day. But for us up on the fourth things are not as palatial.

For a start all the “Gary’s”* are closed! There where two large toilets on this floor, just off the corridor outside, but since we have been here they have both been out of order. The ones on the landings of the stairwells are not often working and one seems to be being cleaned for about an two hours every morning and so out of action.

This means that we have to go down to the second floor sometimes to find a toilet that we can use. The ladies in the office are not happy, and I have to take a long walk for the morning “paid for by work” pony.

Intolerable working conditions, I’m sure you will agree.

* “Gary” – Gary Glitter = shitter.

Today I travelled to our the west end office of Weird Inc from “home”, as opposed to yesterday when I travelled to it from home. From home it’s a single 25 minute tube ride straight in. From “home” where I was this morning it’s a 20-minute trip on the overground into Liverpool street station and then a short tube trip.

But as our last office was a short walk from Liverpool street I was still on autopilot when I got there and found myself standing in the middle of all these people having what could easily be described as a “senior moment” – I had no idea where I was going, just for one blank second I had no clue as to why I was there and why I had stopped walking and why people where bouncing off my back and giving me “warm and friendly” looks. Damn all this office movage!

But after a split second reboot of the grey cells I slunk into the depths of the tube and helped out making the crush of bodies just a little more intimate.

Personally I blame all this living in two places lark. Nothing to do with being in my mid forties, drinking vats of booze, being distracted by other issues and people and generally at bit out of focus at all.

Ahem.

By them I mean the dawdlers in the city - people who just stop at the most inconvenient place and stare around them thus GETTING IN MY FUCKING WAY!

Always in the place where the pavement is narrow due to the council trogs digging up the road and you can't walk by them, just standing there thinking "Where do I need to go now?"

I DONT CARE - GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY I ONLY GET ONE LUNCH BREAK A DAY AND I DON'T WANT TO SPEND HALF OF IT STARING AT THE BACK OF YOUR FUCKING STUPID HEAD!

In other news - Monkeys.

Oh good.

Hanging on the wall above my new desk and in my peripheral vision even now as I type, is that most hated of office decorations – The motivational poster!

The (admittedly very nice) picture is of a tiger looking out through some undergrowth. Under this in big multicoloured letters is the legend:

“CHANGE”

Under this in small type is written:

“In today’s world there are two kinds of companies….
The quick, and the dead!”

For one thing why has our dinosaur brained company got this on its wall, and secondly WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE NEXT TO ME!

I may take it down and hide it behind something soon.

Twas a good weekend if a little hard on the liver, kidneys and onions.

S&F not only had me to cater for and entertain but an extra bod in the form of Row who was taking a break after planning to take over the world.

We ate and drank and talked and had fun. Well we did, you will have to ask her if she had a good time

I invented a new game as well, - Blood pressure strip poker.

You all have your blood pressure taken with one of those machines that automatically blows the cuff up round your arm then reads it of on a digital display, person with the highest blood pressure has to strip to the waste. I found out how to cheat, as I discovered that if your grab someone by the privates while they are having their blood pressure taken it really messes up the results.

After spending the weekend sleeping on the big beanbag bed in Shipscooks study my back felt fantastic, one night back in the bed in the spare room and it felt like shit in the morning.

Anyway, must go and make the long trek downstairs for a ciggie and finish off my pretending to unpack here in the new office.

In other news, I hope everyone is OK out there.

I like london.

At 11.30 of the morning clock I found myself outside my office, walking in the general direction of away, my bag slung over my shoulder and my woolly hat at a jaunty angle, whistling the theme tune from "The Great Escape"

Yes my dear 0.5 of a reader, I was packed up and finished for the day!

So what to do with my new found freedom?

Well I headed up to the area of our new/old office and took shipscook for a lunchtime pint for starters.

Then hit a guitar shop or two and in one got myself a power supply for my Pocket Pod Guitar moddeler- no more desparate searches for AAA batteries for me! Then a hunt for a CD resulted in my purchase of a CD of the original blues recordings of the Led Zepplin songs, it said on the cover "The music that inspired led zep" - I think that is how you say "the stuff they covered and never credited" without getting sued. And of course I am in no way impliing any wrong doing on the bands part (thank fuck you said that - yours, worried Bob from the legal dept.)

I now find myself in an internet cafe that is cheap and down at heel. I feel right at home.

Next up is a drinkie and a read of my book in the Intrepid Fox, where I will NOT flirt with the barmaids no matter how manny fetching tattoos they have, and then head for a bookshop to get lost in.

In other news, a good friend of mine has just had some great news which I would love to pass on but can't. Except to say BLOODY WELL DONE - LETS GET HAMMERED!

The men in the blue t-shirts I mean, the chaps that are taking our stuff away!

Oh goody - can we go now then?

One of my workmates is complaining that they have a sore throat and thier tongue feels swollen.

I think they are coming down with the dreaded "Jamie Oliver" syndrome!

I hope it's not catching, just what I don't need today!

Yes, tis I - here bright and early and cloaked in a cloud of shredder dust looking like some guitarist from a goth band, live and direct from office moving day!

Some people on this blog and not two foot from me have done all there packing, in fact had it donen within 20 minutes of arriving and are now wandering round the blog killing time till the off at midday. ahem.

I have a bit more coffee to drink and papers to dispose of (not in an Enron kind of way of course) and then I will start chucking my junk (NOT a euphemism Row) into a crate.

Then I will do some, erm, things.

So this afternoon my plan is to go to the area our new office is in and make sure all my favourite venues are still standing, browse the guitar and bookshops, have lunch somewhere, maybe hit an internet cafe and generaly Chill till it is time to head off for El Rancho Colapso.

Well you gotta have a plan right?

Tomorrow that is.

Oh yes, after two more months than was planned we are leaving this dire strip of tarmac boredom and going back to our rightful home just off Oxford street in that there fancy "The London"!

Not a damn moment too soon either!

There will be shops rammed with CD's and DVDs'

There will be great places to get food from (because althougth they have refurbished part of the office, the canteen is still dire)

There is an ENTIRE STREET OF GUITAR SHOPS!

There are a load of bookshops! including Foils, a shop which scares me as its too fucking big and there are far too many books in it and I get lost. Ahem.

And there is a lively supporting cast of celebs, women of negotiable affection and people of "No fixed mental agenda" wandering all over the place on the streets outside.

I will be able once again to stand on Dennis Nordens front doorstep while having a cigarette.

I will see that strange woman that runs the hairdressers upend her leather shoulder bag and watch a little dog trot out onto the pavement.

Although, I will still be doing this poxy job. It will seem better!

Ho yus.

And also tomorrow we have to be packed and out of the building by 12.30.

Early start to the weekend then!

Yayy and such!

About me, started by Znethy and carried on by others.

And to delay me having to start work.

1, Once, when I was a ickle toddler, I fell backwards down the inspection pit in our garage, landed flat on my back and swallowed my tongue. My Dad had to put his fingers down my throat and flip it out. I have no memory of this but as my dad was probably working on our car at the time, the chances are his hands were covered in oil and grease. Yummers.

2, I once managed to burn the inside of my left forearm with very hot oil from a wok by putting the veggies into a stir fry rather to quickly and splashing myself. I had to calmly ask jo to take over and hold the handle of the wok, then run screaming over to the cold tap. The burn marks took two weeks to go away after a bit of leaking. Charming eh?

3, One of my earliest memories is being passed down from the top of a pile of hay bales by my brother, to my sister in a hay barn when we were on a family holiday, while a rather angry farmer glared at us. Probably many "Get orf moi laaaaaaaaaaaaaand" type phrases were said. I can't remember what my parents reaction was when we got back to the campsite.

There ya go.

Sorry to have bored you.

In the name of Dennis Watermans gusset, how the hell is a quarter past one "nearly two o'clock"

Eh?

EH!

Having punted out another file of information that should, possibly be correct to on of our offices via the company network this morning, I am now facing a dilema.

Do I dive back into the file with 400 accounts on it and continue to wade through that till my brain runs out of my arse with boredom, or do I shred the box file of copies of old letters sent to customers so I don't have to take it with me when I pack up for the office move tomorrow........

No contest really.

Prepare to die you pointless pile of paper!

IT'S SHREDDER TIME!

Things that make me happy

Playing guitar.
My Daughter
My Friends
Relationships
Alcomaholic beverages various. (Enjoyed in the company of good friends or a good guitar)
Relaxing Jacuzzis
Loud rock music.
Holidays.
Good books.
Good films.
Bad films.
Good Food. (Enjoyed in the company of good friends)
Blogging.

Things that make me unhappy.

Commuting.
Relationships
Being taken for granted.
Not being able to help people I care about.
The monkeys in my head.
Me.
Fish with guns.
Society in general.
My job.
My domestic situation.
Blogging.

Yes, your right. I could think of bugger all to say this morning and would have been better shutting the fuck up.

In other news, Good luck to you today. You know who you are. I hope it goes/went well.

Just got the wonderful invite to the team launch day we are being forced to attend having in March.

Miles a fucking way from where I am.

Day one on the 5th of March is apparently "getting to know the team and setting the scene"

Oh for fucks sake. We know each other. I know all of them as much as I bloody want to. THIS IS MY JOB - NOT MY FUCKING SOCIAL LIFE!

the Second day will be "Opportunities and Challenges" Which in english means "shit dumping and responsibility shifting"

Lunch on both days will be sandwiches (oh the expense) and the dinner in the evening is to be in a restaurant "To be announced"

Now, listen.

I would rather sit in a McD's full of crack heads than eat in a restaurant with this lot. Now I bear them no ill will at all BUT and this is the point, THEY ARE TRYING TO MAKE ME SPEND TIME WITH PEOPLE I HAVE NO INTEREST IN SOCIALISING WITH!

I don't care about job advancement by sucking up and saying the right thing, fuck it.

I would rather stay at home and suck out both my eyes with a dyson.

But if I do have to go, I may Have a way out of the hell of the evening meal. I know of a friend who lives that way. And meeting them for a nice relaxing evening may just make the corporate bullshit hell worth braving.

Especially as they will be paying for my travel and accomodation. Not that this person is not worth spending money to visit of course. But you have to get something out of your job no?

In other news.

"there is no emoticon for what I am feeling..."

While having a ciggie outside just now, I was suprised to see someone commuting on a Royal Enfield Motorcycle!

Now I'm not a big classic mortorbike geek, but even I know those things are supposedly rare and valuable. This was no weekend only highly polished thing either, it had a couple of small rust spots on the rear mudgaurd by the light and looked like it was used as a regular mode of transport.

how odd.

And what a dull post.

sorry.

No, not a list of the tomes that have made my heart sing or reduced me to tears, simply a comment on the fact that I have a drawer full of books here that need to be moved before we pack up for our office move on Friday.

I will have to take them over to S&F's at some point and stash them there as that is where they would end up eventually but if I do it in one load I fear curvature of the spine and limpage and the shoulder of creak.

The books are
Dear Boy - a biog of Keith Moon

Luftwaffe Victorious - an alternative history book that some geek gave me, I never bought it (ahem)

The Pirate Wars - A maritime history book about the attempts to rid the sea of pirates, obviously.

Dracula - Well I realised I had never read it so I did last year and the book is still in my drawer.

The Toyminator - a daft and fun Robert Rankin book set in Toytown.

Obviously the real reason for this post is not to show off how well read I am but just so I can do a post.

Addict I know, but so what.

So I will be trying to find a little space for those in the spare room at S&F's. It's just the other couple of dozen at home and the 500 cd's and the umpteen guitar effects and amps and guitars and the clothes I have to worry about now.

"we're gonna need a bigger boat."

I came in, told the cats to back off as I was not feeding them, got myself a drink and plugged in the guitar. An hour later I am informed that Mrs F and shipscook were stuck in traffic in Hackney and going nowhere.

So. I played guitar some more, separated the cats, and then put the guitar away.

Then started this computermajig thing up to have a bash at the old human contact (feeling all lonely I was) and lo and behold, a key turns in the lock behind me and in comes Shipscook- only about an hour and fifteen minutes later than normal.

Mrs F is putting the car in the garage and I bet she is in a fine and dandy mood.

Eeeep!

She may be up for a rant later.

Anyway.

hope your all safe at home or wherever you want to be.

There is a very appropriate line for the way I feel right now.

It may be in McBeth or Hamlet. I am sure one of you well read types will tell me.

But the line is:

"I cannot do this bloody thing!"

Which is how I feel about work right now.

I have freaked.

Ranted (in a rather obscure mannor admitedly)

And smutted.

So that is a lunch time blog session over and done with and now, I have to pop the headphones in and do a bit of very very dull work.

Bugger.

I reeeeeely need to grab a guitar and re learn the solo to "Fools Gold" by Thin Lizzy.

Why?

It's none of your fecking businesssssssssssss darlinks.

I remembered this conversation this morning from many many years ago.

I am standing in a rock club with Alex. Not Big Al the bass player, this chap was a mate of Kizlodes that I met in north London when I used to stay over at Kizs place.

Anyway there we are stood in a rock club looking all, well – rocky. (And I don’t mean wearing boxing gloves and a pair of blood-spattered shorts ok!)

Alex was a bit taller than me and he watches a guy walk past us who was a little shorter than I was. As he watches the bloke walk away he turned to me and said,

“Them short blokes have it easy when it comes to growing their hair long”

“Eh? What ya mean!”

“Well their hair gets longer, quicker”

“HOW?”

“Well they are short, so their necks are short, so their heads are closer to their shoulders so the hair grows past their shoulders quicker than it does on ours because it ain’t got as far to go, us tall geezers with long necks have got to grow our hair for further than they do before it gets past our shoulders”

“Oh. Right. Bloody obvious when you put it like that.”

Bloody genius he was.

Sitting here feeling duntish after being mugged by a gang of Red wine last night, having consumed the tomato juice and then a couple of cups of coffee, wading half heartedly through a dismal file of crap on the pc to actually get some work done, I thought

"Maybe a bit of music would help transport me above the cloud of Meh"

Headphones go in, hit the button, first random song that comes up

"Rock N' Roll suicide" By David Bowie.

Bloody perfect.

Bugger.

Finish filling in the nominations form for the bloscars and try to make it look a little less empty.

Drink that bottle of Tomato juice soon. Because I needs it I does.

Try to make a dent on the massive file of rubbish I have started working on. Again.

Possibly find time to write a bunny story.

Not fall asleep.

That'll do.

Just found the CD the last band I was in recorded at a rehearsal.

Oh mama. Memories at high volume. Its pumping into my ears right now.

First track, a cover (as they all are) of Stormbringer by Deep Purple. Not bad. Solos swapped by me and Kev, high powerful vocals by Paul the nut job hyperactive on the mike. Rumbles of the sub sonic nature by big Al. And Drums by the Ginger Ninger.

But the second track is Black Dog By zep, and dispite the limitations of the recording, WE FUCKING ROCKED THE FUCKER! Solo by yours truly and I could have done it better but it was a good one.

Then "I got the fire" by Sammy Hagar. Meh. Never liked it even though I got to do the solo.

Now I am hearing one of my favourites that we covered "Dirty Women" by Black Sabbath. And it sounds good. Harmonies to cover the keyboard parts. Solos by Kev but I just realised how heavy I made the rythm sound under the solos by playing an extra root note on the bottom E. (anorak alert)

Our version of "Finding my way" by Rush is not that good, mainly because of me not being able to play the main riff right - llwnt! but it always went down well.

Oh now- we is on to "Massacre" by lizzy. Always played it too fast in my opinion, because that Wah wah riff is a bugger to play right when its too fast. Robs it of all the feel and groove. Mind you, as we are doing it in isolation in this instance its not too bad. Normally we would go straight out of "Jailbreak" and into it. So if the Ginger Ninger played Jailbreak too fast I would turn and give him "the look" and he would nod at me to say "Yep I know, I am gonna die playing massacre" because it is quite a difficult groove to play fast.

Well there ya go. My review of our little CD.

Not very well recorded but not that bad considering it was done in a rehearsal room. Not that well played on a pro level but if you heard it at a club it would have nailed your eyebrows to the person behind you, and generally, well - just a bit of fun.

And no.

You can't hear it.

I have just put the postcode of an account address into our finance system and asked it to search. It came up with two customer accounts, neither of which was the one I was looking for.

But do you know what the two names were.

First - Mr Nick H.....

Second - Mrs Sarah H....

Eeeeeep!

(H...... being mine and Sarahs Sirname obviously)

Well this face off will keep me entertained tonight.

IF of course I can get the pc at home to wake up and respond when I plug in my new camera, I will attempt to get the photos I took over the weekend onto it. Not that they are of any great value in general but just to see if it will work.

One thing that does bother me about this new camera, it has no "sunset/Sunrise" setting.

It does have an option where you can save your own shutter speed settings and ISO stuff and such, but that is all beyond me. What I need is someone who knows alot about photography and would be able to advise me on what settings would be good for taking piccies under those conditions.

and do it all in a language a techno numpty like me could understand.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

Who could possibly fill that role.........

"Nick, for god's sake no more Guiness at lunch time. Nick, for god's sake no more Guiness at lunch time."

I need to give the world a break.

And speaking of lunch time.........

Whoooooooooosh!

As I walked towards the office this morning, Iggy Pop was singing "Now I wanna be your dog" on the MP3 and over the road, a little terrier came shooting out of one of the gardens of the flats and chased a man up the street.

Perfect.

Or should that be bum squad.

Due to consumption of Guiness and the eating of meat based meals yesterday, I am not a very safe person to be near.

Ahem.

In other news my (new) line manager has just told me that I have been earmarked to take over some of the work one of our departed managers used to do. This will be ontop of the work that I am doing that is still coming in despite our leader saying it would dry up soon and free me up for other tasks.

Yeah right.

Any I have to get a new programme on this pc and learn to use it via the online training. I am not that worried as the guy that used to do this role before always churned out reports full of out of date and incorrect information. Well I can do THAT easy!

Ahem

Sunday.

6 Pints of guiness in 5 pubs. or was it 4, meh. All in and around the forest. Good laugh.

Back home now to start a marathon Hammer Horror film fest and slob out and possibly eat and drink some more.

Simon has just put the first dvd in so must be off to make the bugger pause it and get us some drinks. Mrs F is missing, presumed talking to the neighbours.

Rock on people.

Well it has been on charge for the last six hours and now I need to have fun with it.

Yes, I have a new digital camera and it has one of them there batteries that needs six hours for the first charge but will (apparently) let you take about 300 pictures before it needs recharging or something.

So I will be running around trying out all the different settings and taking photographs of all sorts of stupid things, none of which will be suitable to blog.

Especially if S&F forget to shut their bedroom door.

Again.

Ahem.

Oh god.

I nearly had to take a photo.

Sarah is upstairs sleeping in the Moffs bed, in her old bedroom.

Tolly and Cleopatra (the cats of this parish) have been wary of her as she is "my big kitten" and they don't like it when she is here as she gets all the attention.

But Cleo must be missing moff. Tolly was the one that always used to sleep on moffs bed when she was at home as he likes the girlies and Cleo likes the boys. She loves my lap as it is apparently a nice warmm place to nest in when I am sat on the sofa.

But now to the cute part.

Cleo has decided that Sarah is acceptable, and when I went up to check on Sarah, Cleo was curled in a purring ball half way up the bed, Sarah was dozing off curled round her, and it was just so fecking cute I had to take myself outside and beat myself up for being so soppy.

In other news, Sarah is 8 today.

Wake up the morning after the night before. Lay there in the spare room and wait till you hear someone downstairs in the kitchen.

Get out your mobile and send a text to their land line.

Wait.

hear the phone ring and listen as your host picks it up and hears a female voice saying to him, robot style;

"I is in your spare room I is.
I is wanting a Bloody Mary to stop them pain.
I wants it. I wants it now.
Help me.
And a bacon sarnie would be nice"

Lay back and experience the full joy of abuse from Shipscook as the good lad actually does go and get you a bloody mary, brings it to you, swears, then goes off and makes the bacon sarnie.

This of course may not work for all of you, as your friends may not be as nice and forgiving as mine.

Now, I read with interest on another bloggers post that the government have set the level at which females "Binge" drink at "Two small glasses of wine or two alcopops" in a sitting. Sitting? whatever.

Now no offence female bloggers who like a drink but I think that makes you all total binge driven monsters.

The "binge" level for men must be a little higher but given that definition for women (which frankly smacks more of the Health and Safety Executive than the British Medical Council) it can't be much higher.

So obviously we are all (those of us that admit to the fact we drink that is) about two days from our livers exploding.

So.

We need a new word to cover the sort of drinking that used to be called "binge" as the term has now seems to have been slapped over the old label "Moderate"

Any suggestions?

(and I want new ones! - not "pissed" "wankered" "refreshed" and so on. Use your bloody brains)

But I do.

So I am doing it - yep another totally pointless "oh god I have not put anything up today" off the top of my head post full of nothing. It's not like anyones life will be greatly improved by my babbling anyway.

It does, as commented on by a fellow blogger, seem a little quiet on here today but I suspect that everyone that blogs from work has realised just how little they have got done this week and are now trying to catch up so they don't have to stay late tonight.

Or something.

Wish I had anything to say but the good thing is that all this will annoy those people who hate waffling vapid posts! My blog, my rules! I will do with it what I like.

In other news, I will be taking Sarah to the O2 tomorrow to see all that there Pharonic bling from Tutankhamuns tomb. Now for the Michael Cain impression of the day "Did you know, that Tutankhamun changed his name. It actually used to be Tutankhaten."

Pushes virtual glasses back up on bridge of his nose and fucks off for a ciggie.

HA!

Said the person on the next desk earlier. Well that is because I am knackered and my eyes hurt. This means I tend to get that squinty eyed gunslinger look going on whether I want it or not.

All I am trying to do is focus and not fall asleep. And basically see what is in front of me.

So I am not going to kill you all, its just the way I look OK?

ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

And I don't like it! Farr tooooooo cute and yarg for me.

That bit at the bottom of the page that shows you your friends recent media.

Due to some fuff up or other by a blogger I will not mention, all the pictures are of furry little squeeking guins!

Please people, put up some pictures of air crashes, accidents or ANYTHING! and save me from this, this frankly worrying optical fur malfunction.

My eyes feel like I have slept face down in a sandpit with them open.

I creak when I blink.

I think I may have to give up staring at people and trying to make their heads explode like in "Scanners"

Bugger.

I am not special, or better than anyone else on this planet. And I am certainly no worse than anyone else. But.

Times like yesterdays all day shindig make me think odd thoughts. I sit and look at the people around me and think “I have no idea what you people are for”

I don’t get it. I feel like I don’t fit in. Not just at business meetings where I really don’t fit in – Evidence, one training and conference centre full of suites and one pissed off looking me, dressed in combats, boots t-shirt, bomber jacket, all black. But at other places. At my daughter’s school panto, I looked at all the other parents and just thought, “Who are all these people? I have nothing in common with any of you.” Which was bollocks as we all had children at the same school but you know what I mean.

I do feel like I fit in sometimes, at my desk surrounded by the people I have worked with for three years, with bloggers, in rock clubs, with my friends, in guitar shops. I see the point then.

I just tend to look at everything around me and think “Why?”

Society is baffling, but I have no better ideas. Why do people behave the way they do? Christ knows.

Although I do like spending time on my own I am not a loner, I like the company of people I know but people in general are an odd and stupid bunch, with values and agendas that completely mystify me.

Or something.

Excuse me. I is all phylosofoficalamist today.

Zombie like after a 04.45 start, I trudged up the hill to El Rancho Colapso. My mood had been a little lifted already by a suprise phone call from a valued friend while on the last leg of my journey back from the most pointless meeting I have ever been to.

So what where the things I needed to ease my pain and knackeredness?

1 - a large Vodka Martini poured for me by shipscook almost as soon as I walked through the front door.

2 - A big warm hug from Mrs F

3 - Another large Vodka Martini which I took with me upstairs, along with a little lit candle to -

4 - A nice relaxing Jacuzzi. Where I drank the Martini. In candle light.

5 - a plate of Chilli while watching James Marsters snog and flirt with everything that breathed during "Torchwood"

And the last thing I need, having gone way way beyond knackerd (due to being a twat and actually being aware that I had to get up early despite having set my alarm and my mobile to go off at the same time, but waking up evey two hours to check that they had not gone off and I had not overslept, ensuring that when they did go off I woke up feeling like I had done a week of getting up early in ond FUCKING night - I mean, who actually dreams they hear their alarm clock going off? what kind of sick, self loathing tosser..........Oh...........right.)Is to go to bed, curl up in the duvet - and just not be.

In other news - sorry, I will try to catch up on a days worth of blogs tomorrow, but I may be busy catching up on work

In other other news. The reason our computes are so slow to start up in the morning is.....that the thought police are recording everything that we do with them ALL DAY.

Och eye the fukit!

As some people may say.

Soon.

ahem.

As she had been on at me to show her my skill with verse (and there seems to be a bit of poetry knocking around anyway) I give you this -

Trapped behind eyes that only see night.
I live in memorys of brilliant light.
Take my hand and lead me from gloom.
But don't bend over, I think the dog's in the room.

Ahem.

Ithanyaw!

Tis a rum old day.

or something.

Well not really. Sitting here half heartedly working and not being the least bit strange.

Wondering how I can escape the meeting tomorrow.

24 hour leprosy?

Rising damp in the tackle region?

Tennis armpit?

Welders crouch?

Hat makers bazoon?

St vitus twinge?

Early onset rigor mortis?

Pirates swange?

Leaking badgers syndrome?

Ah well, I will just have to go and try to stay awake I suppose.

Bugger.

Another joyous morning travelling to work in a country that has obviously still not put umbrella etiquette on the national curriculum. A little wet and very windy out there.

Now I may be alone in this, but I find dark wet city streets quite pretty. Well not all of them obviously, but some of the squares and roads I walk through look good in the pre dawn gloom. Some of the offices are lit up different colours inside, the lights on the walkways cast little circular rainbows on the slabs, the trees in the graveyard shake about in the wind, all the lights shine back off the wet tarmac. I like it.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the countryside too and the coast and such. But I am quite at home in cities.

Which is just as well because I have looming in my future a move away from my current suburban locale to somewhere a bit more urban. Not as nice and urban as some of you blessed with a view of docklands, or others of you that live near those great “inner city villages” that somehow manage to spring up and imbue the area with a more community based feel, but somewhere a bit further in towards town.

Probably somewhere rife with gun crime but with “good prospects of urban renewal” By this I think they mean the local bus goes past the edge of the Olympic village building site.

In other news, I am wishing very hard for a huge tree to fall onto the railway line between London and Rugby at about 07.00 tomorrow morning. But only if the track is clear and it is safe to do so, bringing no harm to anyone. Ahem.

Sitting in his bedroom listening to music.

Fecking yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeers ago.

I drew this, and I have no idea whay I am sharing it..

ahem.

= less Monkeys!

First you bugger up a perfectly acceptable pm system by making it impossible for us to just read the damn PM in our email and forcing us to come back to this sight to read it. Silly if you ask me.

But NOW, rather than just getting an email notification of a private post (which I still do) I now also get a sodding annoying PM, form THE SITE! which I cant read till I come on here and read that I have a private post already!

Talk about sodding overkill!

Sort it AHHT!

Grrrr and such.

Somone in this office is pleased that they got to see the spice girls at the weekend!

Oh FFS!

I must NOT slap sense into him.......

Amazing.

Sort of saw it coming. A bit of what you could call a "downward trend" in my mood. Out of the blue. BUT - I have been experiencing these buggers for long enough to know that I can beat them. So I will. Well try anyway.

In other news its chuffing cold in here today as is normal for the start of the week. The heating has been off all weekend and the office wont reach its normal oven like temperature till tomorrow at least. Then we can spend the rest of the week being de-hydrated and sleepy.

How nice.

And after watching top gear repeats yesterday, I want a Bugatti vayron! Oh yeah, I know I can't drive but that's what Viki Butler-Henderson is for. She drives and talks and I sit next to her all puppy dog eyes and sighing.

or something.

When I woke up this morning my lower back was in agony. This is quite a normal situation but it still is not my favourite way to wake up. It’s not just something that happens when I sleep at S&F’s, it happens at home too to a lesser extent. Sometimes I can’t even lie in at the weekend because it is too uncomfortable. When I get up it eases off and now I feel fine. I have no idea what causes it but it’s very annoying to have a body that won’t let you be as lazy as you’d like to be.

Also on the way in I remembered part of a dream I had last night. I was sitting at a table in a coffee bar in a shopping centre reading. A group of three women came and sat at the table next to me. One of them was wearing nothing but a black sequined bra and knickers and, bizarrely, a scarf. This Bra was made of strips of material about a centimetre wide and had no cups. It was very tight as well. As she sat down one of her “puppies” popped its “nose” out. I buried my face in my book and tried not to look. The woman’s friends (who were all dressed normally) told her that she was having a wardrobe malfunction and she struggled to get the wayward “puppy” back under control but the bra was rather tight and she was having a bit of a struggle. I resolutely stayed staring at my book.

What the bloody hell was that all about then!

In other news, it’s Monday – Enjoy.

I don't like them.

Even though I am here at my good friends gaff, snarfing shipscooks wonderful cooking and relaxing with coffees and wine and just chilling, it is just something about this day I don't like.

It is probably the impending Monday lurking just around the corner but to be honest, sometimes I am quite glad to see Monday after Sunday.

Now before Mrs F reads this and hits me with something sharp and heavy (like Cleo) I am happy and having a good time. I am content and stuffed with good food.

But there is that feeling in the background that I always get on Sundays.

Anyway - apart from the feeling of Sunday "Meh" I also have a slight physco twinge every time I think about my emails and the fact that I CANT READ THEM STILL!

Easy boy. calm down.

Anyway - I have had a very good weekend, and I hope you have had and are still having a good one too.

The above sentence would win "most clumsy grouping of words seen in a blog" if there were such a category in the bloscars.

And you all better be nominating away like mad. Don't make me come over there!....

Shipscook took me aside during our recent juant to China town in this here fancy THE LONDON

"I just got some Wasabi peas in that grocers" said the bearded one.

Oh fair enough thought I, visions of a can of peas ready for the pot enfused with Wasabi sauce.

But oh no.

He just broke them out and they are a snack item. Oh yes. Dried cooked peas glazed with Wasabi sauce.

DAMN them peas is hot. And crunchy. And very very yummsters.

and hot. Or did I say that already.

Heartily recomended.

I would upload a photo of the packet which is all chinese writing and a piccie of said peas and featuring a cartoon of happy wasabi peas on the front, but this PC does not want to play.

This has been a public information bullitin on behalf of the spicey snack objects advisory board.

ahem.

They all hate me.

13 responses to posts to read (notice - no actual fucking emails, just responses to comments and such) and the only way to read them from here is to log on to AOL, read one, wait for the "you dont have scripts enabled you knobend" message and then the next email comes up blank, log out, log in again and read one more and repeat till you start feeling the blood boiling in your temples!

Was it not Tomorrows World that told us old 'uns that when we grew up we would only have to be doing two hours work a day, as the pc would make everything so much better?

Mind you, this is the same programme that told us there would be a city on the moon by 1990!

(and for you young kids, "Tomorrows World" was a Science Magazine programme, not some sci fi spoof. Although it has been spoofed a lot itself since then)

And where the fuck is the robot waiter that would fill all my domestic needs that they told my stupid trusting ten year old face about eh!

He aint here with a Martini thats for damn sure!

Bugger technology!

As Omar Khayyam once wrote,
"All I ask for is a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou sucking on my bellend like a Dyson beside me in the wilderness, and wilderness were Paradise enough."

Well he would have if he'd been born in Dagenham like me........

ahem.

So hallo there blog world. I should point out that due to the fact that I am (suprise suprise) over at El Rancho Collapso, otherwise know as Shipscook & Mrs F's gaff, that I will probably be unable to access any of my emails. So theres no point in complaining. It's a "fuck off you don't have scripts enabled and I bloody hate aol" type thing on the computers part.

In other news, I am leaving the dire blank tarmac expanses of Old Street and the office there situated and moving back to Weird Inc's lovely new offices on the 25th of this month! Well that's the day we pack up. It's a Friday. And they want us to be done with the packing and the glavin my midday. So its early doors for a pub session!

In other other news, Shipscook fell asleep in front of Bill Bailey so I had to make my own damn cocktail. It was supposed to be a "Gin and it" but it all went a bit wrong. Smells a bit like cats wee and tastes of fruit. And it's dark red. Hmmmmmm, what is this thing that I have created!

Hope the evening is all going well, and as cookie is now awake and watching family guy while massaging Mrs F's feet, I am going to annoy him by jumping up and down on the arm chair shouting

"WANNANOVA DWINK WANNANAOVA DWINK"

in that much beloved mature and sensible way I have.

Toodle pip all!

Time to go outside and suck on a fag.

Oh STOP IT!

you know what I meant...............

Honestly.

Jeeeesush..

A friday bit of fun stolen from row.

I was not going to do this till she kindly pointed out it is supposed to be celebrity based and not, like you know - real.

so

Who would be your ideal

One night stand?
Claudia Black.
Why - well why not. She just does things to me.

Love affair? KT Tunstal. This is fantasy right.
Why? Because she is cute and a musician and she seems to have a good sense of humour and she was on the telly last night and I could not think of anyone else.

Marital Partner?
Vikki Butler-Henderson
Why? She loves driving and I can't so she might not moan about driving me around. And her voice is Sexy as hell.

One to make you turn?

Right, you think that now someone in my office is a blogger I am going to fill this one in? Are you fucking mental!

This would be a perfect place to blog from.

So far this morning I have had to wade through some rubbish internal emails that could cure anyones insomnia (in fact I might sell them to fellow bloggers who are having trouble catching enough shut eye)

And had to investigate a customers account who said to me "I have your letter here" That would be the letter I sent you in JUNE telling you you had 28 days to respond or we would cancell your account right? and on investigation discovered that the reason he had not got his bill and we cancelled his account anyway was because he had moved and not told us. Dumbo.

Ho hum.

Now I have to phone someone who is probably going to shout at me. Goody!

Still, I am (at the moment) in a good mood. Hope it lasts. I want it to.

Of distant RUM!

Yep off home now.

While some of us are out doing Charity handjobs- I mean work for the displaced Welsh males of this world, I will be sat at home trying to chill and get Sarah to go to bed.

If I complete my task I may reward myself with a little drop of rum and a twang on the guitar while I sit gazing at my pc steadfastly refusing to do anything I ask it to do remotley quickly. If at all.

Have a good evening all of you.

That you get to compare the ten year old picture in the document to the new one for the replacement.

And you get to see what the last ten years have done to you.

Oh thanks for that life.

Cheers.

meh.

She stood right by my desk and said "Are we going then"

I thought she was talking to the office in general but on looking up, oh the horror, she was looking right at me!

So in the company of some other suitably pressganged people Our boss took us all off to the pub. Me in a pub. Me a clerical office monkey scruff merchant in the company of five managers. And the seniour manager boss woman.

And I had three large vodka and cokes and DID NOT do anything stupid.

Well because I had already done all the stupid things I needed to already. (see "Oh shit/Oh thanks")

She has heard about my little "frank expression of views" where I rated the management team in less than glowing terms of affection. She thinks its funny.

She also obviously thinks that my opinion didn't extend up as far as her.

Strange.

well she was trying to bond with us all. But I sat there for nearly an hour and they talked about work and work and more work. I was miles away. Then I heard a noise in the background and there is Amy, singing away on a great big screen that weatherspoons pubs have for showing the football.

And now my brain is trying to snap itself off my spinal column and run out through my nose.

They finished talking about work and the new boss was running through all the things she heard that I had said to people that were so "funny and cheeky"

Just tell me to tow the line rather than try to get me pissed!

Well she is making an effort I suppose so I should be pleased.

and now, Lunch.

A girl stands in front of me wearing a long dark coat with an interesting belt thing on the back of it. I glance up from my metro…

Oh god.

She is beautiful. English Rose would be the best way of starting to describe her.

Maybe a bit too thin, but that face!

Did I gasp? Oh how stupid. Probably didn’t.

Brown hair past the shoulders escaping from under a woolly hat. Straight nose with a slight turn up at the end, which is just so cute. Soft curves of her cheekbones; the line of her jaw is a work of art. Her lips are perfect. She looks like she is wearing no make up, which means she is either naturally stunning or very very good at using it.

I look back down at my paper. I try not to glance up again so I don’t make her uncomfortable. I fail.

I get off at Liverpool Street.

Funny how love never lasts.

Item one.

An 18-year-old girl has slept with 50 men since losing her virginity at 16. She met most of them via Internet dating sites.

Thank Christ she doesn’t have a blog! But why is this an item of non- news? She is from Dagenham, the town of my birth. Frankly she is slacking.

Item two.

Amy Whinelake has died her hair blonde!

Oh shock. Oh wow. Oh for fucks sake.

The only news I would like to hear about the booze addled stick insect is if she has put on some damn weight, stopped making records and bought a mirror so she may just realise one day that for ages she has been leaving the house with what appear to be some bass players plectrums stuck to her upper eyelids!

Our bass player came out of the toilet of the rehearsal rooms to find me lurking in the corridor.

“Hey, K – did you just have a piss in there?” said I

“Erm, yeah. Why?”

“What colour was it?”

“It was the normal colour, sort of pale yellow, you know – piss colour” said he trying to move subtly in the general direction of away.

“Hmm, I thought it might be the strip light in there, but mine seems to have turned pale green. Oh well, lets get back to learning our mistakes properly” I said cheerfully and left the tall and confused fellow standing in the hall looking worried.

I found out that the reason for my change of wee pigment was due to the vitamin b complex tablets I was taking to counteract the fact that parts of me were going numb due to my less than healthy lifestyle. Ahem.

And they also contained chlorophyll. Which would explain that then.

Well it’s one of those afternoons and I need to be stimulated beyond normal levels

(No offers? Oh fine, thanks. Sniff)

And the top of the boss tree type person as far as our unit is concerned has just come in and sat at the desk next to ME!

Fuck it.

So I need to appear super animated and extra whizzy and good.

Black hole coffee you say?

Make a cup of black instant coffee. Drink all but the last 10mm, let it go cold and when you want another coffee add another big teaspoon on instant and drink, leaving the same amount in the cup as last time. Repeat. By the end of the day the coffee strength should be such that it sucks light in and bends the spoon into very odd shapes.

Chin chin.

Goeth the man!

Yep it is lunch time and thank fuck for it.

I am running away in the general direction of "off" for an hour of not sitting in this office wondering why mankind ever bothered to come down out of the trees and invent money!

That banging sound is the office door swinging shut behind my rapidly disapearing skinny arse....

And not for once due to my lack of enthusiasm.

No I am being a good worky type boy (apart from this little break obviously) because some boss types are about.

But can I actually get anything done? No.

Too much bollocks to wade through and not enough information available for me to do any meaningful work!

and when I get the info it's crap anyway. This is never going to work you know.

Drives ya mad I tells eeeee!

Never mind, soon be time for a cold drink and a warm guitar magazine.

Hope your day is going better than mine.

If you have not done so already that is.

Go to the Bloscars blog page and get the form and read the instructions on said blog and VOTE!

Everyone can join in AND the more people that do it, the more diverse the selection of nominations and eventually, winners will be.

You don't HAVE to vote for me, because as you all know I do not just do this for the attention. Oh no. I do it to pass on my vast knowledge of life and all its wossnameness.

Now bugger off and nominate some people will you, there's a good bunch of bloggers.

In other news - Duntish again.

Well tonight I am.

Yes I will not be repeating last night, sitting up till the next day drinking cheap bourbon and walking into work in the morning like King of the land where air is treacle.

Oh no. I am being healthy. I will be going to bed soon.

Just one more slug of rum after this one, and perchance just one more or two possibly cigarette objects in the shade of the conservatory.

Or something.

Now remember kiddies, as our luverly NHS service will soon be telling us repeatedly over and over (rather than actually trying to stop us pegging out) Smoking is bad for you, drinking is naughty, Loud music is ver ver bad for the hearing and anything they say about self abuse of the onanistic nature is a load of bollocks.

It does not make you go blind. In fact I am long sighted, so I must be doing it wrong.

Or backwards.

Or something.

Who cares.

I find I am watching less telly these days, which can only be a good thing, BUT tonight is the night that CSI comes back on!

Oh yes BABY!

Not the wanky CSI miami with David "Plank of Wood" Caruso in it, but CSI Las Vegas, with a lead character with some more facial expressions and (in my opinion) more than a passing look of the Six Million Dollar Man about him.

So that is my viewing sorted this evening, although I will probably have to tape it and watch it at 10.00 as I will probably be nailing Sarah into her bed to get her to sleep.

Good parenting is an instinct you know....

Just had a phone call from the person who will be incharge of moving me from here, the dull dull streatch of Old Street that I know work on, to there - the sparkly new office in Soho where Shipscook now works.

Yes I am moving to Weird Co's new state of the ego blazing white on white, clear desk policy pit of rampant empire building. Which will welcome my scruffy and slovenly bod with less than open arms. I dont do the dress code thing. But there will be a convo between the mad little pillock that polices the clear desk policy (a director no less - has he nothing better to do!) and my line manager regarding my sartorial lack of attention looming shortly after we decamp on those gleaming shores...... probably.

Anyway, said person got me to give them the asset number of this pc, and then ran through a list of programmes that this company uses and asked me to tell them if I had access to any of them.

"You do realise your talking to a computer dick head?" I asked. It made no difference.

"Do you have frottage for windows 07?"
"Idunno"
"Squimby logic v6?"
"Idunno"
"Scoop ya brains out with the arse numb add on?"
"Meeep, eh?"
"Office botherer, latest wanky upgrade that is harder to use than the last one?"
"Erm yeah, actually. Crap innit"
"Tie detector pro?"
"Fuck off"
"Corporate bullshit generator premium edition?"
"I thought that came as standard?"

But no date as to when we will actually be going to soho.

But at least I will be getting a new pc, and NOT a laptop. Because there is no way I want to be taking this shit home with me. Whichever home I go to.

In the office today about "Baton passing" what with a very few rare number of us keeping our (and lets face it in my case, several other peoples) jobs.

I did all the baton passing I am going to do earlier today.

Took two flushes to send that bastid to the seaside......

Ahem.

Is there any site sadder than an unwanted christmas tree laying in the gutter waiting for the council to come and shred it.

OK, apart from me trying to be all deep and meaningful I mean.

Had a chat with madders on msn last night and yakked about guitars for far too long. He is fine by the way. And flicky has gone too! double bugger.

And it is still a very odd feeling to walk past someones desk and see your own blog looking back at you!

Now what was I supposed to be doing.....

Oh yeah, the work thing.

I came home from the pub one night, in a rather "refreshed" condition. After a frenzied search of all available pockets I discovered that I had no door keys about my person.

So I opened the letter box and looked into my hallway, and saw the cat sat on the bottom of the stairs looking at me in that way only a cat can manage.

"OI CAT! open the door you little bugger"

The cat looked at me with a snear and said:

"Me? How!"

All his windows fell out...........

Ahem.

Well it does appear to be one of those nights.

"Cab for Old Nick!"

What sort of question is that!

How do I know? If I was to step out from my little shelter by the garage door to this office and get smacked on the noggin by some falling piece of heavy object and become all deaded outright, then technically all 29 ciggies on my person would be “spare”. A little blood soaked maybe but spare nether the less.

As I can’t foresee the future I have every intention of smoking all my cigarettes so I don’t know if any of them are spare or not you Muppet!

Jeez the people you meet in London………….

A zippo lighter with a fuel guage on the side.

Grrrrr!

Sucking madly on a ciggie trying to light it from the sparks of the flint is just sooooo uncool.

Gotta go buy some matches.

arse!

Well it sprung out rather quickly as they are a bit tight and I didn’t catch it in time. It’s because they’re so new I think, they need to be taken out a few times to loosen them up.

Anyway I was sitting on the sofa at S&F’s on Saturday showing Sarah my new earrings, which are the sort with the ball in the middle, which you pop out to put them through your ear. I got these because I was sick to death of those poxy small gold rings with the hinges and the catch which are just so effing fiddly to take out.

So sat there I was, and fiddling with one of them and it seemed to be rather difficult to get it to come undone. And of course when I did get the thing out it made a beeline for the depths of the sofa. Once retrieved it was the work of minutes and some more minutes of swearing and concentration my Mrs F to tug my ear all over the place before she gave up. So I went and had a go with the aid of the bathroom mirror and it popped in first go!

God this is a dull post. Better than working though.

I am sorry. I will soon eff off to lunch and read my guitar magazine leaving you all in peace.

The first full week of work of 2008 for many of us and my don't we all look happy!

Are we all pleased to be back?

What are you saying you twat. (bangs head off desktop to restore normal opperating parameters) Eeep. Better.

So another year has well and truely started. I am going to attempt to not make as many mistakes this year. ha bloody ha.

I am going to attempt to not be so stupid this year. ditto with that ha ha thing.

I was going to say something rediculous about curbing my bad habits but that would just be silly. I enjoy my bad habits thank you.

What to do today.

Try to be positive.

Try to actually do some of the mass of work mounting up.

Book rail tickets to that poxy meeting thing in Rugby. Grrrr.

Try and download the voting forms for the bloscars (which YOU should do too if you have not already)

Have a pony. Quite urgent that one. Always better when your getting paid for it though I find.

I hope you all had a good weekend and got everything you wanted and feel rested and wonderful yadda yadda yadda.

Cant read ANY of my emails here because S&F's pc insists it has not got scripts or some bollocky tech stuff loaded so it just shows me blank emails.

And as you know I spend a fair bit of time here.

AND when I am at home I cant see past the first page of blog!

Why do computers hate me?

Are they all female?

Meh.

Three of the best?

http://area-136.blog.co.uk/2007/09/19/avast_there~3004381

http://area-136.blog.co.uk/2007/09/19/the_sorry_state_of_my_chocolate_starfish~3004809

http://area-136.blog.co.uk/2007/09/19/crew_vacancies_fill_my_gaping_void~3005173

Arrr. and such.

I would do it but for my total lack of ability to do that linky thing. Please, don't bother trying to explain it because it will be like spit off a sherman tank.

And in truth, if I looked back at all the nonsense I have spat out I doubt I would find anything that would stand up to a second read.

Maybe the stuff I did this year on National Talk like a pirate day. There was some good smut in them....

But that's not much to offer for a year. Smut.

I could do better.

I could actually do some serious posts about, well things other than smut and whatever I have just fallen over outside.

Ahh but why go for deep and meaningful when your brain is shallow and full of crap!

Work with what you've got baby!

Of "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley is all I have left to get through.

Now I don't know about you, but when I read something that is a "Classic" I expect myself to enjoy it. Becasue I am scared I will find out that it's too "above me" or something. I have made an effort to counter this way of thinking, If I like it - its good, there should be no shame in not enjoying something and you should not pretend to enjoy it just to appear clever.

But I have, over the past year, read "Steppenwolf" by Herman Hesse and "Dracula" by Bram Stoker and enjoyed them both.

But "Frankenstein"...

To me it just reads like a travelogue by Mary, as Victor seems to spend a lot of time wandering round feeling remorse over what he has done and looking at lakes and mountains.

And the creature seemed to learn how to speak in the most flowery way in a rather short time, just from spying on a family in a cottage, who he very amusingly calls his "beloved cottagers"

ahem.

And when he does make a female creature, or starts to, he does it on a remote Scottish Island - where did he get the materials? She says that there are no more than five other people living there so where did he get the "stuff".

And when the creature turns up and Victor sees it looking through the window he "tore it apart with my bare hands" Hmmm, good stitching there Vicky boy.

Anyway.

Not my favourite book so far. Maybe the last chapter has all the sex and helicopter gunships in..........

maybe not.

If you get anything saying I have invited you to join something called "Yari" ignore it and delete.

I accepted an invitation form someone and the damn thing looks like it goes through your contacts and invites them all.

Sorry dooods.

Or not.

Jacobite is contemplating actually writing a friggin blog post. Jacobite can strip a computer down blindfold and fit a ton of memory and a superdooper graphics card in his sleep. Jacobite can confuse the fuck out of me with tec speak regarding computers at the drop of a hat.

But people have been asking him why he has not blogged yet.

Hehehehe, its because he don't know how to set one up!

So I have had to tell him!

I WIN!

a bit.

For once.

Normal service will be resumed at an alarming rate I fancy.....

And shall I break the mould/mold and do something different?

Well, why?

I will probably make all the same mistakes this year as last year so I may as well continue with my normal pattern of behaviour.

Well that's my excuse anyway.

Time for a pub lunch.

Which wont exactly reduce the chubbage but I will rememdy that over the next couple of weeks.

I need to be sleek and slim for a special occasion.

Ah fuck it, I'll just wear a girdle......

Just working through the emails I have had at work over the break.

Got one back from someone who I asked for some information regarding a big customer to find out if they are in fact paying for the service we are providing.

"I am under the impression that they are paying for it under account No 1234567"

Impression? did you not actually do your job or do what I asked and actually you know - go look on the system! I dont' want your "impression" you overpaid twat! I want accurate information!

I am now under the impression that he is a knobhead.

In other news, I have put on half a stone over the five days I spent with S&F.

Bugger. Je suis un chubber.

Well here I am with a load of stuff to deal with after the break and no drive or motivation to do it.

Did I really go away for new year?

Well I must have, as I DID in fact have a friend jump off not only my friends list but the blog!

Madders has gone, which is a pain in the arse and I hope it is just temporary and he comes back under some new quise (hint fucking hint captain posh!)

And the stupid meeting I thought I'd managed to avoid has been moved to the 16th! But to make it even better it is no longer in london, where most of the remaining team work but in fucking Rugby! which is not suprisingly nearer to where the team leader and their right hand people live.

Funny that.

Snow. Lots of it. Occasional white outs, blizzards and then sun. Then all of the above in sequence again.

That is what I walked through, took the bus from waverly in, and sat and watched out of the windows of the airport today.

Hence a two hour delay leaving Edinburgh.

Still, it could have been a lot worse.

Sorry to leave the place but you have to come back to reality at some point.

In other news - I have lost my camera. Hence the fuckit.

It had a load of pictures on it of our break, including a great one of me and the moff looking really pissed off and mean as we waited to, erm, go on the ghost train.....No really we looked well 'ard!

And a couple of photos of a friend that I am not sure I have anywhere else. Which is a real pain in the arse as they were special.

Oh well. At least it saves you lot from a ton of pictures of us being silly, put I wanted to share the one of moff singing in the rock Karaoke bar and no Row, I did NOT sing so there is no pictorial or vidio evidence despite your wishes.

I would catch up on the blogs and stuff and my emails, but this pc wont let me see anything of my email due to some effing problem with the scripts and the blog will be lost to me soon as the second my arse is off this seat the moff will be all over the pc like a rash.

Anyway, back to work tomorrow. But in the evening I get to see Sarah for the first time in what seems like ages.

And I don't even think I have lost anyone off my friends list while I have been up there, which is a first.

The mountain that you can see out of the window of the moffs flat looks lovely with a light dusting of snow on it, salisbury crags too look nice glinting under the powder...

Hang on, Snow? yes - big fluffy lumps drifting slowly down out of the sky.

Hmmm, I may have to stay and make snowmen with the moff.

....this could make the traveling part of the day a bit "interesting"

see ya

When in Gallery 13 getting my new earings and thinking about getting another tattoo, we picked up a flyer for The Black Rose rock bar that said "10% of all drinks with this card"

Cool we thought, and took one.

But.

Not only did it work on our first trip to the bar, but on every subsequent trip to said bar.

And even better than that, it worked the next night we went in! and on every trip to the bar.

The girl behind the bar said they are thinking of making up loyalty cards called "Motherfucker Cards" for the regulars.

Hmmm,

I may well apply for one. Then when I go up to get a round I can say

"Shall I be Motherfucker?"

Little things and all that....

Last full day up here in the city of Edinburgh, have to get up and fight the hangover tomorrow and drag myself (well let Mrs F, shipscook and moff drag me) to the airport. And their will be hangoverage, as due to a sneak attack of the monkeys in the night I got very little sleep and going to the black rose rock bar tired and then drinking will produce some interesting effects.

Went to Rosslyn Chapel today to look at the carvings and such. Very cool it is too. Cant take pictures inside though which is a pain. Moff found a nice black cat asleep on a pew that refused to wake up no matter how much she petted it. I think it was saying "fuck off its too cold to waste energy waking up!"

So, back in Teviot place in the Glenhause having a wine, blogging and erm, stuff.

Not looking forward to going back to work on Friday but its only one day, how bad could it be?

Then Friday night I get to see Sarah as she is spending the weekend with me at S&F's and we are going to china town in London and Moff is going to take her to Hamleys after to get something for Sarahs birthday. Don't tell Sarah if you see her ok!

So I hope all you souls that started back to work today are coping and having fun.

Must get back to the hard grind of eating drinking and being far less adult than my advanced years dictate....

Bye.

This morning the rain was pouring out of the sky above Edinburgh, which is good in that it helped to wash away all the "Stripey laughs" where people had been "Shouting soup" as they celebrated new year.

The new year street party thing was interesting. As in very crowded, overpirced and rather small drinks and quite a few drunken scots lads in pink cowboy hats attempting to snog the moff. We batted them of with crash barriers in a subtle way, what else are god fathers for.

We also discovered a new rock bar called the Black Rose, which is rather good and on new years eve had quite a few darkhaird/blonde/tattooed/low cut topped lovelies in it, so I nearly pulled a muscle in my neck being "subtle"

We found ourseleves positioned with a perfect veiw of the castle as the clock struck twelve, whereapon said castle appeared to explode into the sky and get bombed back to the stone age by a huge attack of the fireworks!

Then a quick wander back through rather alot of people staggering around like Rhino's that had just been shot with a tranquiliser dart. Oh at one point I remember shouting at a lot of people and making them get in front of us so we could say to them, as they had just said to us "happy new year to the people in the front" Well I did it in a kind and loving way and we all laughed about it. And as I told Mrs F, I was not being naughty, I was "Facilitating"

Anyway we went back to the Auld Hoose pub and got wankered. Then went back to the flat, hit the bubbly and got wankered some more. If such a thing is possible. Did I start this year off with a huge argument like I did the old year? I'm not telling. But I will say there was a lot of hugging going on. I wish mr S would stop all that stuff when he's had a few, the old tart.

Anyway, back to the rain mentioned earlier. Although it is helping flush the huey from the pavements, it is not fun to have to walk a mile through it to get to the ver ver posh witchery restaurant and arrive like drowned rats. But we did arrive like waterlogged rodents and they still let us have a table.

And shock horror! Although it is still truely posh THE OCD WAITERS FROM LAST YEAR HAD GONE! Well they were all americans and they probably were a bit much for most people to take. So instead of constantly having some nutter come up and tidy your napkin every time you put it down, you had a selection of nice aussies or locals tending to your needs. This year you were more likely to hear "Strewth I forgot ya fuckin' soup spoon - the chef will be right snakey!" Than "May I just iron your napkin and move it one millimitre to the right"

Anyway. In other news I is sat in a very very hot Glenhause Cafe, which at least means the house red is at a reasonable temperature. Hmmmm May have to have another.

Love to you all

Gonna let Mrs F have a go now.

No! on the bloody pc you dirty dirty people!