All of you nut jobs.

But many many many thanks to AJ, Lynnds and Landers for doing it all again and giving us some fun.

They put in a load of effort and we should all say "Well done blog organising type fellas!"

Now.

I is going to beds.

See yas Monday, unless I find an internet bar with topless barmaids.

After the impending weekend I will be posting pictures galore.

There will be old old buildings.

There will be churches.

There will be waterways. (sigh)

There will be piccies of people overindulging in the realms or alocmahol, foodings and chocomalate!

But those ones may have to be fiends only.

That is of course, if I remember to charge up my camera battery tonight.

Have a good weekend.

May see you all briefly at the bloscars.

Hmmms

I hav impressions of not mush goings on roundz eeer.

I has the quiet. I HAS IT.

I have just noticed that my new pair of trousers has one of those little labels stitched onto the inside flap of the fly that reads

“Never stop exploring”

Eh?

I have another pair of trousers that I got from the outdoorsy outfitters next door with the same label in them.

What does it mean? Is it encouragement to someone who may undo my flies to not stop and keep going no matter what I say?

Or is it (and lets face it, as these trousers are on me it probably is) a warning that “you may have to rummage around a bit to find anything in here”

Even my clothes are against me.

Meh.

As my desk area is awash with managers and boring worky swots, I am late with my first hallo of the day.

Now tonight is the bloscarmathingy, and much as I want to be there, I may only manage an hour before I have to go to bed. I has the early starts – I has its!

Yeah we are going on a stupidly early train to Brussels, then on to Bruges so sleep will need to come into it somewhere.

But have fun. Remember, it’s not the winning or the loosing or even the taking part that matters, but how good you looked!

It would be stupid of me to lie and say I don’t care if I don’t win one, because I want to win one. Mainly because I am tight fisted and want to get another free pro account for a year.

And I know that some people out there have done the usual bitching and moaning that they do each year, but it IS just a bit of fun.

So I will be around (if I can get Shipscook to tape Ashes to Ashes for me) for a bit anyway.

Now I am off to hire a pirate themed Tux.

Mental and I love it.

Night before last, 7 and a bit hours sleep = felt like 18lbs of shit in a 5lb bag all day.

Last night, a bottle of wine and 4hrs 45mins sleep = feel much better.

What the bloody hell is that all about then eh?

EH!

You may recall that I blogged about the lack of usable toilet facilities in this office a while back, my dear and steadfast 0.5 of a reader. Well things have taken a turn for the worse and even the bizarre.

This building was built in 1963, which is quite old for an office block in central London of no architectural merit whatsoever. Buildings this ugly are normally ripped down and something shiny and full of atriums erected in its place. But no, this slab-fronted heap soldiers on (and those few of you who have seen this edifice on our staggers from pub to pub can testify to its utter munter status)

So the toilets are a bit old too. They need work and attention and of course cleaning a lot, because some people in here are bloody animals. So the ancient toilets are often shut due to leaks or shut for cleaning. This means that I often have to scour a number of floors and stairways looking for a toilet that is open.

A new and wonderful twist to this situation is the shadowy presence of “The Blocker”

This is an individual who, according to the engineers and the rumours going around, is deliberately blocking the toilets and rendering them un-usable. And as it takes our cleaners and engineers hours to do anything this can put a toilet out of action for the best part of a day.

And the arrival of “The Blocker” raises a couple of important questions.

One, what sort of person goes round deliberately blocking toilets in an office block?

And two, and the one you don’t really want to dwell on too much – How are they blocking them? Do they ram reams of toilet paper down them or are they on some special diet that enables them to produce “Brown Octobers” of such size and girth that not even the best flush that Armitage Shanks can muster can shift them?

Somebody in this office is bloody odd.

And for once its’ not me.

I have just eaten TWO "all day breakfast" sandwiches from Pret and I feel rather stuffed.

Why are there no sofas in this office!

I want a lie down.

Than sitting in a candle lit room, drinking wine and listening to AC/DC playing "Walk all over you"?

Well ok, laying in a candle lit room having all your sexual desires met by the most stunning person you have ever seen would top that, but you have to go with what you've got no?

(I is only doing posty thingeyness as its quicker than trying to read posts and respond to comments on this gas powered pc of mine)

THIS F**KING COMPUTER! its is an electronic slug of a thing, low on virtual memory (as it keeps telling me) and my "broad band" connection tricles through like golden syrup through a fine wire mesh.

I cant look at any posts that don't appear on the first page as it times out when I try, I have to make two or three attempts at commenting on friends posts for the same reason, and I cannot even edit my profile to correct the spelling of "Amicable"
(would you believe I am getting my spelling checked by people from miles and miles away, although she must be blind as she said she thought I was cute as well)

Watching any you tube vid put up by anyone is a total waste of time unless you want to hear the song in loads of 1.5 second snatches every 3 seconds, and frankly I am VERY ANGRY!

If I had not had to replace my digital camera I would have spent that xmas money on a new pc with out monitor and such, just to have something a bit more speedy to blog on. But no, I had to go loose my camera. Daft daft bugger.

And I am damn sure that this post will not go up as it will time out as I am doing it. LLWNT!

(and those of you of a technical inclination regarding computers - please dont bother with the advice and the glavin, I wont understand and I dont care. As soon as some money comes up, I am taking a stroll throuhg the inards of this pc with a huge lump hammer and starting my trip on the outside.)

At least I have some red wine!

And rest.

Wanna buy some in ear headphones? Specialy designed for you?

Yes folks, much to my annoyance the left earpiece in my MP3 players earphones has died! Bugger, another bloody bit of shopping to do!

What do you do?

Do you put it in the middle of your day so that morning and afternoon are about the same length, or do you have it a bit later so the post lunch working day is shorter than the pre lunch span?

Me, since moving back here I tend to hang on till 13.00 before going, which makes the afternoon fly by seeing as I leave at 16.00.

I did you know, I got an early night last night. Well early for me, I was in bed before midnight and sober to boot.

So why do I feel so shite this morning? Why have the faeries of sleep taken the bags from under my eyes and polished my brain to a sparkling crystal razor of wit? Why is the fact that the IT guy is yakking away in the server room next to me with the door open making me want to go ram his head into a bank of electrical stuff (that’s a technical term for whatever all the spaghetti and flashing light stuff in there is)

I think I may have to stay up late tonight just to reset myself to normal.

As some of you will no I am not a big fan of sport. Except F1 of course – yes, I do get up in the middle of the bloody night to watch the qualifying even!

Looking at the times displayed in the last full on testing session, it is obvious (or appears to be, as you never know what these sneaky F1 teams are doing) that McLaren and Ferrari are going to be the fastest two teams again.

But down the slow end things look like they are going to change. Because the slowest two cars were the Hondas. OK there was one car slower than them, but it was a bit sick on the day and not really giving it’s best.

Honda’s slogan is at the moment “The Power of Dreams” or some such rubbish. I think in Jenson Buttons case it should be changed to “The Power to rob you of your dreams”

Oh well.

Or musicians in general.

Even drummers.........ahem.

This group thingey. Should we not have one where we can yak about Van stories, worst ever gig experience, recording, Effects pedals, Amps, guitars, other halfs and their reactions to our addiciton to buying "another guitar, but you already have two!"

Those of you who have been lucky enough to actaully do the music thing and make some money out of it could gloat and tell us where we all went wrong, us poor knob heads who never got anywhere could tell you about the best ever fight we saw at a bikers party we were playing at, and such........

Whaddya reckon?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTrousers!

I has to do more shopping stuff.

Bugger.

Well I don't actually have to. I got the boots sorted so the major thing I needed is done.

But I want a new iclke table top tripod thing for may camera, and I need a new pair of trousers. Well I don't neeeeed a new pair, its just that I have a couple of pairs that are still servicable and less than a year old but now have no pockets in them due to coinage wearing holes in them.

I do try and spend it as quickly as possible but the damage has been done.

But I have a strong dislike of shopping for anything that is not guitar related........so its like just tooooo much hassle dooooooooooooood.

But then if I did go shopping I would have brief new things joy........

Arrrgh. I am not in the mood for all this confusticatory imotional shopping turmoil.

I am in the mood for sleep.

Oh it’s so hard to get the brain working after the weekend.

What should I be doing?

I could check the “folders” and see if any work has come in, but there was bugger all in there on Friday afternoon so there probably isn’t anything there now.

Hmmm.

I must remember to get another one of those little bendy tripod things for my camera. Could come in handy on the trip next weekend.

I could wiki my destination just to check it out a bit. But I am not sure how you spell it. Bruggs? Bruges? Broooooshgermerwhatsit.

Whatever.

Oh Meh.

I do hope your all on sparkling form this morning.

I just hit Mrs F in the heeeed with the freezer door.

No don't look at me like that! she was bending over getting something out of the fridge, which is below the freezer and I was standing behind her getting ice cubes out of the afore mentioned cold thingey....

This will never stand up in a court of law will it. And the more I try and explain, the more smutty its going to sound.

So.......how is your sunday evening going?.......been to church at all?....gardening?........relatives?.....dog walking?......

I think I should go now.

If I'm quick I may be able to catch Shipscooks cock under the toilet seat.

Oh hang on, that was out loud again wasn't it.

Eeeeeeeeeeeep!

A wine glass with the capacity of your average bucket sits to my left. It is full of Mavrodaphe - a rich, dark, sweet and potent Greek desert wine.

Tis very good stuff, and has an odd effect on you.

Found this on Wikipedia.

"Achaia Clauss (the main producer of the wine) claims that the heavenly taste of Mavrodaphne was the reason why the austere Prussian Field Marshal, von Moltke, laughed for a third time in his life right after he was offered a glass of it, the other two being when he was told that a French fortress was impregnable and when he was notified that his mother-in-law was dead."

So it makes you laugh. Makes you have weird dreams as well. It is a bit of an inhibition stripper.

Hmmm. Maybe a big bucket sized glass of it is not such a good idea.

Oh well, I take these risks so you don't have to.......

It's a dirty rotten stinking job, and all of that.

Into shoe shop, see boots I want, check the price £30 CHEAPER than in central London, Give one boot to the girl in shop and say

"Could I have a pair of these in size 9 please"

She brings them back you take the box to the till and pay!

Mrs F said, "Erm, don't you want to try them on?"

"No! They are exactly the same boots as I am wearing now, in the same size that I am wearing now. This is how blokes shop for shoes. I am a bloke in a shoe shop and all I want to do is run screaming out of the front door"

The two girls at the counter laughed and handed over my new boots, and I left with all due haste

Job done.

Is stalking me.

Slowly, I will admit. Or has it taken me so long to notice....

I have a Wah pedal (its the effect at the start of voodoo child by Jimi Hendrix for those of you who have no clue of the finer things in life) called -

Bad Horsie.

I also have a distortion pedal called....

Bad Monkey.

These are not names I have given them (like I would call anything a "Bad Monkey" with my problems with the howling and the monkeys and the glavin"

These are names that the people that make these pedals gave to them.

Mind you,

I bought them.

So maybe I was trying to tell myself something.

Or not.

(and I got them both ages ago and yes it has only just fallen into place and no I did not spend my boot money on them despite being tempted to run screaming into a guitar shop and buy some stuff after trying to find some boots for half an hour in london and I know that does not sound like a lot of time to you ladies for the shoes and the hunting there of but its a fucking ice age for a bloke and I am having the post traumatic shopping disorder and so there and such and arg. a bit. a lot. Flashback city.)

Any way.

I like guitar pedals more than shoes.

So sue me.

And this is one of the few.

meh.

Have a good weekend everyone, if you can.

I has been workings

I has.

I do you know.

That is why I blog so much - I does the work as quick as I can then blog.

This morning was all reporty collatey bollocks and send off to interested parties.

And if anyone knows where the title of this post comes from you win a virtual Lamborgini Miura.

Now, a bit more work.

Or as some of you know her, Row.

(yes, she did used to be a man.)

ahem.

Hope you have a great day.

XXX

But it may make you laugh.

Many years ago, I was 19 and living at home. Yes I was 19 once. For about a year I think it was.

Anywhay,,,as you may remember I had a black Labrador called Wonka. He used to sleep in my bedroom, curled up on the floor near the head of my bed. I noticed that when he woke up and sat upright, he used to do the same thing every time. He would lick his top lip and then click his teeth together as his tongue went back in.

Anywhat..I woke up one night and needed to go to the toilet. I slept naked then as I do now so I got up to go to the loo and was going to get my dressing gown from the back of the door. The room was dark, because the sun does not stay up at night in Dagenham for some odd reason.

I got out of bed and in doing so roused the sleeping Wonka who was at his usual floor station. He sat up and did the thing with the tongue and the lip and the clicky teeth thing.

But.

It was dark.

I was stood too close to him.

When he sat up, his cold doggy nose met my wedding tackle

Trust me that wakes you up.

But.

He did the tongue lick snap thing.

And (look away now sensitive readers) his tongue managed to pull the very end of my foreskin into the way of his clacking teeth.

OOOOOOOOOOOWWWWCHHHHHHHH!

That Reeeeeeeeeeeeely wakes you up.