Area 136

Almost epically in fact.

I had intended to do a bit of packing for my impending trip to Tenerife, not that I have to do much for a week but a bit now will mean less later. Or something – anyway I got back to Rancho Collapso and fed the attending cat Cleo. Tolly was still over at Mr and Mrs Nutters (they are the people that brought xmas prezzies for the cats and even sent them a postcard from their holidays)

After that I just collapsed into bed and slept until being gently beaten awake by QueeneMab who informed me that dinner was ready.

After nomming a very nice pasta dish served up by ships, I had a glass of wine and told myself that I would do some packing after watching Heroes.

After watching Heroes I had another glass of wine and told myself I would do some packing when I finished that.

Then I had another glass of wine and watched Mitchell & Web and then Stuart Lee. “After watching this and finishing this other glass of wine I will pack” I promised myself.

Then QueenMab made a hot apple and alcomaholical substance style drink for us for purely medicinal purposes and Family Guy came on.

“I will pack after this”

I had another glass of wine with the second episode of Family Guy.

Then I went to bed.

So.

Packing done = NONE

Loafing around on the sofa eating, laughing and drinking = LOADS.

Packing FAIL

Relaxation RESULT.

I may try again tonight.

Packing I mean.

Coming back from lunch down the Charring Cross Road I saw a young girl wielding a big “look at the size of the lens on that!”AJ style camera.

She was pointing it at the window of a shop and cranking the lens and doing some focusing or depth of field voodoo malarkey as she tried to get the shot she wanted.

Then thing is that this shop was a café, and the window was full of chips, sausages, pasta, salad and other sundries.

God knows what shot she was going for.

Mind you, it would probably been something arty as St Martins college of art (the one that Greek girl with the thirst for knowledge went to in the song) is just a couple of doors down.

Still,

weirdo.

Found a very long meme knocking around and even though I have done it before, my boredom is such that I decided to do it again. And yes I know the numbering is messed up, but that is not my fault ok!

Ahem.

1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT?
Someone hit me round the back of the head with a bottle.

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR BEDROOM?
A Salvador Dali print. It is not mine, neither is the bedroom.

3. WHAT DOES YOUR MOBILE PHONE LOOK LIKE?
Black sleek and shiny.

4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
Guitar based stuff mostly, but do like Cuban music sometimes.

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
Early hours of the morning. In a blizzard no less. Well not out in it, that would be far too Walt Disney – but there was one going on outside and my eldest sister had to go out in it to get the midwife.

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
A phone call or email from someone.

7. WHO DO YOU MISS?
The person I want the phone call or email from.

8. WHAT’S YOUR MIDDLE NAME?
Peter

9. THE BEST TV SHOW EVER CREATED:
I hate questions like this! Erm, dammit – I will say Black Books.

10. THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO?
Probably R my ex line manager. We were talking about the racing at the weekend.

11. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Not really. I have the ability to be scared in any lighting levels.

12. FAVOURITE CHEESE?
Stinking Bishop is pretty good. But never eat this before or during a date!

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOGNE / PERFUME?
Armani something, dunno its name…..its in a dark grey spraying thingey…..

14. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
I like any colour, it is not the important thing. I am more concerned that the eyes are nice and you can see something attractive in them. Hair colour is not important either.

15. WOULD YOU RATHER BE SMART OR FUNNY?
People say I am funny already, and I know I am not smart.

16. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS?
Coffee is an energy drink.

17. FAVORITE PIZZA TOPPING?
I don’t have one.

18. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Stiffado. In my favourite Cypriot restaurant.

19. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON WHO MADE YOU MAD?
Jo

20. DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?
I speak little bits of a couple of languages. Basically enough to say please and thank you and get the drinks in.

21. WHAT WAS THE FIRST GIFT SOMEONE EVER GAVE YOU?
Erm, life I suppose. But I wish it came a different size and colour.

22. DOING TONIGHT?
A bit of packing, maybe a bit of guitar playing, possibly sleeping.

23. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
No, but I have very flexible hands and fingers.

24. FAVORITE CLOTHING BRAND?
Not much of my stuff has labels on it, when they do it is either North Face or Berghaus, and that is only because we have a outdoorsy type shop next to the office and I go in there when they have a sale on.

25. WHAT’S YOUR DREAM CAR?
Lamborghini Miura.

26. WHAT COLOR IS IT?
Warm Yellow.

27. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF EXERCISE?
Hmmmm. I am not going the obvious route with this one. I used to do lots of exercises, I think I was in a period of not liking myself physically. Well if you are being totally ignored physically by someone there must be something wrong with you right? It did no good but I toned up a bit. I think just staying active and walking are good enough.

30. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
I am such a screw up that the fact that they were leaving would make it impossible for me not too. Probably.

31. WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO TELL SOMEONE HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO YOU?
Look them in the eyes and tell them everything. And mean it with all of your heart.

32. WRITE A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
13

33. BLONDES OR BRUNETTES?
Not important. Dark hair is yummy, and so is blond….what about the red heads eh?

34. WHAT IS THE ONE NUMBER YOU CALL OFTEN?
Ghostbusters.

35. WHAT ANNOYS YOU MOST?
Being lied to for no reason.

36. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF YOUR COUNTRY? WHERE DID YOU GO? WHAT PLACE DID YOU LIKE BEST?
Yes I have been out of this country. Lots of places, and I had fun in all of them. Can’t pick one. And there are lots of places I am going so we shall see.

37. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
Procrastination. And I get nervous and scared before doing anything for the first time – even the simplest things. Bloody ridiculous. Cigarettes and alcohol. Women. Lack of self-belief. Poor body image (Well I have been told that, I of course just think I have a poor body)

38. FRIES/CHIPS, RICE OR BEANS?
With what!? How can I make an informed choice if I don’t know the menu!

39. FIRST JOB?
Paste up artist in a small Printers.

40. EVER PRANK CALLED SOMEONE?
Oh yes, loads.

41. WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE YOU FILLED OUT THIS?
Being bored at work.

42. IF YOU COULD GET PLASTIC SURGERY WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I don’t know. Face lift? Not actually that fussed for plastic surgery which is odd given that I don’t like the way I look. I would rather attempt to diet and stuff.

43. WHY DID YOU FILL OUT THIS MEME?
Boredom and a stubborn refusal to get on with anything productive.

44. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
My eyes, people tell me I am a nice, kind person. Which pisses me off because obviously I would rather they thought of me as dangerous and sexy. Meh…

45. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF ALCOHOL BECAME ILLEGAL?
Probably get into a lot less trouble.

46. WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
A new guitar. Yes, another guitar. Or a humungous Telly.

47. HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT?
Just the one I have. You would not believe the amount of persuasion it took to make me give in and become a father. I hated (and still do) kids, but of course Sarah is the most wonderful child in the world to me.

48. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Two saints possibly. How very apt. Ahem.

49. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
Only if they are of the shooting variety, and I can tell you that it don’t bloody work!

50. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY?
A while ago actually. Which is surprising. And a good thing I suppose.

Sorry for inflicting that on you.

nearly lunch time.......

The young girl here who looks a bit like Devla Kirwan is wearing a very nice well fitting red dress under a dark jacket today.

She looks mighty fine.

And now I feel more awake.

Funny that.

I will type this.

I has a tired.

They have been mucking about with the office here at weird inc.

There are new places to explore and new routes you can use to sneak out for a ciggie with out being seen in case of emergency evacuation.

There are also nice little booths you can sit in with your coffee and "network" with people.

Yeah right, sit in and make personal calls is more like it.

And they say we are skint.

Hmmm, not too skint to buy furniture and re-model the office are we.

But I am going home.

I need a large chilled Martini and a warm Les Paul.

And if I don't get back on here again -

Have a good weekend all of you.

I don’t actually enjoy shaving, as I am sure I have said before.

No, I won’t grow a beard then thank you very much – they make me look even older. Which was fine when I was in my 20’s but that beard was just so the manager of the Ruskin Arms wouldn’t recognise me. Well he had barred me for life so all I had to do was wait him out behind my beard.

Anyway, I sometimes give my poor lower face a day off at the weekends and don’t shave for a day.

The only problem is that now I have my hair regularly cut to a “number 1” crop, when the stubble kicks in my head looks like a hard boiled egg that has been rolled in pepper.

Not good.

I read in the Metro that Spanish cab drivers and waiters and so on are being told to smile more when dealing with Brits on holiday.

The Spanish are worried that they are getting a reputation for being sullen and moody, which could explain why tourism has dropped by 25% recently. You don’t want to go somewhere that has a lot of moody unwelcoming staff now do you?

The Metro also pointed out that the fact that the Pound is almost level with the Euro could have something to do with it.

But let’s be honest, if you were a Spanish cab driver, waiter or a bar worker –how happy would you be having to serve drunken sunburnt brits who constantly complain about no-one speaking English, the blaady awful foreign food, and puking in the back of your cab before asking you to take them to the nearest McD’s, or trying to shag the person they have obviously only just met up against your nice seafront bar?

I’d be grumpy under those circumstances!

No.

I reeeeely DON'T!

One of you is letting a new friend see all your friends only posts dating back to before they joined your friends list, or is making all your posts friends only to avoid red facedness.

Hmmmm.

Most agravating.

Hey! I am allowed to be grumpy.

I iz an OLD!

Now stoppit!

I am doing this post just to see if it looks as bloody odd as everyone elses posts that I have just tried to read -

(STICKY - IF STICKY IS IN THE TITLE)

or summink up top, and the design all fecked about with.

Is BCUK having a little freak out this afternoon?

Has Rampie dropped a beer in the server due to one of his pits being considerably more wet than the other and the imbalance causing him to swerve wildly across the office?

Who knows.

Now lets post this and see how it looks from this end.

Making up what is now called “A play list” but back in the good old days was known as “A compilation tape”

You had to flick physically flick through your old vinyl Albums and choose the tracks, que them up on the turntable, set the level on the tape so it was as loud as possible and yet not distorting and you just HAD to make sure the gaps between the songs were as short as possible.

You would make up tapes for different moods – Most of the ones I made where up-tempo and rockin’ but I made a few full of laid-back songs and ballads for those “intimate” evenings.

Then came the CD and the twin deck CD recorder, the process was much the same as above but without having to take so much time as you could do it on 4x speed. Still had to mess with the levels and frustratingly you had no control over the gaps between songs.

Still took bloody ages though.

Now you just click from here and drag to there. Simple quick and easy.

But it is just done on impulse now without as much thought.

I think also some of the fun has gone out of it.

Because before, at the end of the process you felt like you had put some effort and thought into it. Like you had actually “made” something.

Now it seems more like filing, and that is never listed as a fun activity on any ones profile.

Or is it Deana25 now?

Hope you have a great day and get sore fingers from opening up all the prezzies.

x

I mean look what happened when I gave in and went to see what all the face book fuss was about – nothing! Apart from finding it annoying and pointless.

So now a number of people have this here Twitter thing on their blogs.

Knowing nothing much about it at the moment makes it seem like it could possibly, at a very long stretch…be vaguely amusing.

But this is little old me we are talking about.

A man who finds giving his own blog a bit of a “big up” by putting the blog bragging badges for his bloscars wins a daunting technical task.

A man who would love to put up that moon phase display onto his blog as well but knows it would just come out looking like

(squigglebollock:crap&notapictureatallyou/ignorant/old/knobber)

Twitter would be pointless I’m sure.

Texts and the occasional phone call to and from people are better.

I mean does anybody really want to know what I am thinking at 11.30 at night?

What I think of the programme I am watching?

How confusing I find the smell of the fridge?

I doubt it.

But you know…..

It is a toy after all.

Of course if you could have twitter in a guitar pedal form I’d be on it like a shot….

Just up the road from where I am sat, on the high street - a man was killed outside his house. It happened about three years ago now.

On the anniversary of his killing the usual bunches of flowers would appear, football shirts would be tied to the fence, messages left.

Then, about a year ago the houses there were demolished and a new small block of apartments has been built.

Not one bit of the old houses remains.

And yet people still put flowers and messages and football shirts, only now they attach them to the lamp post outside the new apartments.

I have always thought these sort of tributes would be better placed at the actual grave site personally.

And if I lived in the new places, I don't know how I would feel being reminded each year that my new flat was on a murder site.

And this post is not helping any.

Meh.

I DID IT AGAIN!

Yes, another win on EuroMillions people - I am blessed.

OK, like last week it is only £5.50 but think about it.

I only have to play every week for the rest of my life to be mildly better off in the long run........

Or something.

Oh well.

I have spent an "interesting" morning filling out simple but important forms and obsessing over whether or not I have understood them, gathering them up, arguing with jobsworths in the post office and finally posting them off.

I don't know why things that most of you would take in your stride get me so damn worked up, but they just do. Nerves - I had them big time.

Now after all that (and posting loads of piccies to calm down) I want to do something silly.

I could apply to buy some shares in Weird Inc. No, that would be insane not silly.

I could strip naked, go into the post room and poke my pecker in the "in" tray and shout "how about that for something that came in the post!" But that would get me locked up and sacked.

Or I could just mooch about on the internet for a while and look at stupid stuff until I go to lunch.

Not really silly, but probably what I will do.

Look! It's Black Books!

I saw this and had to capture it for landers....

Our order in Chartier, written on the table cloth by the waiter.

Finally, proof that QueeneMab is not actually the shortest woman in Europe....

Send no flowers, it will be a simple service.

Ahem.

It was not me after all.

I cracked after yet another non-sending of emailage to important big company person I reeeely need to speak to and called them.

A minion answered and we had a chat and I requested the information I needed.

As an asside I mentioned my inability to contact person via email.

"Oh that address is not available to external emails anymore"

You mean the one on the business card.

That email, that one is not available to external emails.

SO WHY IS IT ON THE FUCKING BUSINESS CARD!

Well that is what I thought, didn't say it of course - that would have been bad form.

"Oh, right. Nevermind then. Just thought I'd mention it"

Is what actually came out of my mouth.

Well you don't want to piss on your chips with these people do you? After all, I want them to be nice to me.

I want to send two emails to two important official bodies to sort some things out regarding my life.

No, I need to send two emails to two important official bodies to sort some things out regarding my life.

God don't make me call them again, I am sick of calling up and asking "stupid" questions. I am convinced they put the phone down and go "That bloody man! How did he get so old and still know so little!"

But enough of my paranoia.

So far I have sent one, with the other one refusing to go anywhere near the virtual door marked "Outbound mail"

Apparently the server does not like the address.

Bugger technology.

I don't want to have to call them again (stamps foot and has a very un-becoming tantrum)

Anyone got a carrier pidgeon?

Meh.

We walked down to St Pancras station in the morning twilight. Two young lads were happily drunk and asked us if we knew anywhere they could get something to eat after a night of clubbing. So we directed them back to the station and as we walked they were full of questions about where we were going, why we were going and our apparent lack of enough luggage.

We left them at the tube and went to get our Eurostar. One snoozy train ride later we are at Gar du Nord station and out into the Saturday streets strewn with people and beggars and litter.

Bright sunshine and blue sky causes us to squint at the map and that and only that is the reason we set off in completely the wrong direction.

We realise our mistake not too far along and retrace our steps, finding and heading the right way down Rue La fyette. All spellings are guessed at, it’s the way I work.

A big group of armed police, some in body armour, are loafing around some police vans outside a church. We ask one for directions and he confidently directs us in the wrong direction. We know he is wrong but you don’t argue with an armed man who has 10 armed friends with him. When he is not looking we carry on via our original course.

Our hotel is small and cheap but adequate – it is just somewhere to sleep after all. We drop the small amount of luggage off and step out again into the bright morning.

We wander. We look. We stop and eat. St Chapel has the most amazing set of stained glass windows I have seen so far in my life.

The Seine shines and reflects the light as it slides past Notre Damn. The flower Market is on today. The Metro still smells. Ernest Hemmingway used to use a bookshop that looks like it should be staffed by Many and Bernard from Black Books.

We drink in The Two Maggots like Hemmingway did; I suspect he didn’t have palpitations over the prices in his day.

We try to drink in another bar he frequented just up the road (“The flower” I think it was called) but are defeated by the number of Americans doing the same and jumping the queue to get in.

We have better luck at the third haunt of his “Harry’s Bar” but this may be due to the prices keeping all but the determined or minted at bay.

I am amazed the Parisians think parking a car on the very apex of a corner of a busy street is a good idea. Double-parking on busy boulevards is all the rage this season.

We eat in the Chartier restaurant, which is full of wooden panels, mirrors and people. The food is simple and good. The waiters write your order on the paper tablecloth and add it all up in front of you at the end. I was disappointed that our waiter was a very friendly and helpful man and not the rude and arrogant type that I was warned to expect.

Out stuffed with steak and into the night, a stroll about and stop offs for drinkies here and there. Sat talking and drinking in a café till just gone 1am. Young couples sit cradling each other’s faces in their hands as they pause for breath, then start kissing again.

Bloody foreigners.

I know you had a good birthday weekend and I hope today is a good one too.

XXX

I have discovered one thing about the French.

They park like they make love - Recklessly and with abandon, without a care for anyone else and where ever the hell they want to!

"Pah Reee, kapitalll dur lar franssse, Ay sitchoooway surrr lar Sennnnn"

That is how we used to say it back in our compulsory French lessons in the heart of the steaming comprehensive school system of Dagenham. Imagine an entire class of faux cockernee oiks murdering the French tongue in unison. Urgh.

SO

Anyway up, tomorrow morning a Eurostar leaves this septic isle at some time around 07.00am and the Unholy Trinity have to be on it.

Which means I have to get up bloody early and get into central London to be there, or be cuboid.

Or summink.

It will be a lightening raid, there by lunch - eat a lunch - go do some looking around stuff - Shout "Essshmarellda!" for no good reason outside a big church thing - take loads of piccies - Eat dinner in a place where the staff look down on you - have some drinks - find the bloody hotel - sleep - get up in middle of night to empty bladder - sleep - wake up - go do breaky somewhere - have second breakfast somewhere else (ahem) - lookit stuff quickly - get train home - try not to sober up on train - arrive back in London - get back to Rancho Collapso - fight over who gets to post piccies first - sleep - wake up on Monday feeling totally fecked and go to work.

Should be interesting.

A while ago I did a post about how I had shook hands with Jimi Hendix. What happened was that ages ago I met Scott Gorham from Thin Lizzy in a bar and we got chatting, and I shook his hand.

Later I heard Scott on the radio telling the story of how when he was young, he and a group of friends blagged their way backstage at a Hendrix gig and he got to shake hands with Jimi.

As the safe sex campaigners were always telling us “When you have sex with someone you are not just having sex with them, but everyone they have ever had sex with” and using this reasoning I figured that if I had shook Scott by the hand, I had also shook the hand of Hendrix.

Well it was a theory anyway.

Now I have just come back from buying the new Thin Lizzy live album and was remembering the above story, when something hit me.

Given the above, I must have also shaken hands with Phil Lynott, Brian Robertson, Brian Downey, Gary Moore, John Sykes, Mrs Lynott……the list goes on…

Also I must have touched all the naughty squishy and wet bits of all the Groupies Scott must have pulled during his rock star days…..

Well if I didn’t have OCD’s at the start of this post……….

Eeew!

I have done the very thing that Juzzy has been dreaming of doing every weekend since….well forever almost.

I have had a win on the Euro Millions lottery!

Will I be having myself gold plated and encrusted with diamonds?

Will I be spending the rest of my days travelling the world in a custom-built luxury flying boat?

Will I be having a hand made wardrobe of clothes tailored for me in the finest and lightest linen ready for me to slip into when I move to somewhere hot and happening?

It will be a bit of a stretch on winnings of £6.40, but I will see how it goes.

And yes, of course I bought a ticket for the draw tonight. I am obviously going to have to win the big money in stages so stopping now would be insane.

Why, the minute you put the phone down after being told the person you really need to talk about something reeeely important is going to call you back, do you suddenly desperatly need to go to the toilet!?

oh poo.

Almost literally.

Gives me great pleasure and much amusement.

Did it not two minutes ago outside this very building in fact.

There I was having a ciggie, and a bloke came over to ask for a light.

So out came my Zippo lighter with the Skull and Crossbones on it and I handed it to him.

Now I always give the lighter to people that ask me for a light rather than light it for them because that way it is much more amusing.

This guy was a case in point.

He lit it easily (you would be amazed at the amount of people who don’t know how to work a Zippo even thought they smoke) and of course the flame came out horizontally, threatening to crisp his hand.

He skilfully avoided this and shielded the flame with his other hand, and nearly set fire to the letter he was also holding.

Biting back my giggles he successfully ignited his cigarette with out burning himself of his letter to the ground, handed back my lighter from his slightly toasted digits, thanked me and went off about his business.

I know little things amuse me; it just goes with having a little mind.

How come I still get dandruff when I have cut off all my hair!?

That is not bloody right.

Ah well.

I get that feeling after doing anything I consider even mildly grown up.

Like dealing with big things like solicitors or banks on the phone.

I will have to be doing a lot of that sort of stuff over the coming weeks and months so a pressure vale will need to be released on a regular basis.

So this is me being silly. Blogging with no agenda or idea what I am going to type.

I could tell you that I have just had a genius idea about small towels in my flat (only putting out very small towels so any female guests have trouble hiding there modesty on the way back from the bathroom after a shower....pervy I know but genius.)

but that is rather dull.

I could tell you that the floor in our office near the meeting rooms, the floor allegedly laid by expert building contractors, is so uneaven that it trips you up if you are not careful. Which can make people look drunk even at 09.30 in the morning. Always good for a chuckle that one.

Or I could go outside and have a cigge and calm down.

Think I will go for that one.

I walked back into the bathroom last night to check on how far Sarah had got with getting dry and putting on her night clothes after her bath.

I found her bent double and standing on one leg, drapped in a pink towel.

In the quite suprisingly low pitched voice she uses to indicate she is not on this planet she said:

"Daaaaddeeeeee, IIIIIII'mmmm a Flaminnngooooooooo!"

The fire alarms are going off in Weird inc as I type this.

Not for the entire floor, just for the new section they are fitting out.

They have been going off continuously for twenty fucking minutes.

Ships has just gone home because the alarms that are blaring away are right behind his desk.

I have the I-pod in and set to kill to drown out the noise.

Which is a bit of a contradiction but at least the noise I am listening to is not beepy squeeky sirens, but Thin Lizzy.

Which has got to be better in anyones book.

They treat us so well here...........

I was shocked and stunned to find the door to Mollys locked this lunch time.

It was explained to me by the scary owner (when he did open the door to me…yes I was pounding on it and crying..) that he couldn’t open up as all his staff had called in sick. Massive outbreak of gay flu?

Any way, this meant that I had to spend my lunch time in a pub slightly bigger than a postage stamp.

Eeeeeeep!

In comparison to Mollys if felt like sitting on the centre spot of the pitch at an empty Wembley Stadium with a pint in my hand.

Traumatised any?...

Possibly…

My collection of CD’s have almost all made it onto the I-pod and are now taking up far too much space at Rancho Collapso, having been shipped over bit by bit from the house in cases and rucksacks.

So far I have 504 albums on it and it is only just about a third full.

So I have lots of space for more music, but will I ever get to the point where it fills up?

How much music do I actually need?

As it is I am hearing lots of stuff I have not listened to in ages, although a lot of the songs are instantly remembered from almost the first beat.

I just like the idea of being able to have everything I own regarding recorded music sitting in the pocket of my jacket.

Oh yes!

I have this months Guitarist magazine, and I will be pouring over it at lunch time aflame with desire for all the items that I really don't need and certainly can't afford.

And as I have said before, reading a guitar mag is really like reading porn. After a while you wanna stop reading about it and do it!

But there will be not much chance of me getting a pluck tonight. Maybe tomorrow.....does that mean I am on a promise (of a pluck)?

Possibly.

And regarding the time of the working day post earlier. This is the time of the working day that I am less keen on.

Because it is still 45 minutes till I go to lunch and our network is being slowed down by all of the workers who went to lunch at twelve and are now checking emails, looking at cute pictures of animals or trying to find new jobs.

My computer is reacting as quickly as a lead duck moving through sludge.

Never mind, soon be time for lunchers!

The bit when the majority of those in so far are in reality just checking their personal emails and favourite web sites.

There is a quiet chilled out feeling to it, only spoiled by the one or two people who ARE actually working....what is wrong with them?

Like the woman having a slightly louder than needed call on her mobile about work related stuff.

But in the most part there is a "not working yet" feel to the office.

Which is nice.

In the same way that I have NEVER met anyone that has or even knows someone that has had their arm broken by a swans wing, I have never met anyone that has eaten in a Aberdeen Angus Steak House.

thank you, that is all.

Listen!

There is (or seems to be) an agreed process for deleting your profile if you are on my friends list!

You have to wait until I am away for the weekend, when I am in Edinburgh seems to be favourite - and delete then!

Also you have to publicly have a freak out/rant/argument with or at someone to highlight the possibility of your impending blog burning.

That is the way it has always been done so why do we have to change it now!

So Phukjoy....what happened?

Why you gone.

I liked your posts.

I think this lunch time I will treat myself to a couple of pints of Guiness.

Well it is st. paddys day.....and my mums maiden name was sort of Irish......and I have something to celebrate.

Any one else going to have one today? - not including you there in Ireland where I would imagine it is compulsory.

And I should also point out that I do drink guiness on other days of the year, but as you have to wait for it to do the settling thing it is not the optimum pint for a quick lunchtime drink.

Never mind "extra-cold", someone should invent "Extra fast" Guiness.

I know I said I wanted some good news.....

But my little pessimist soul had convinced me I was not going to get any.

And now after one phone call I am FULL of adrenalin and shaking with excitement.

It could be very good news.

I am Bursting to say what it is all about.

No, it is not about a new female - I know some of you were wondering.

Anyway. I am going to be staring at my mobile for the rest of the day in anticipation of confermation of good news or the reversal of fortune and sudden plunge into deep meh that would bring.

Oh christ stick a fork in me - I'm done!

Look away now.

After a weekend of consuming lots of lovely food and a smallish vast lake of alcohol, I am actually pooing for England today.

Three visits to our cold and unwelcoming fudge factories here at weird inc.

AND I even had to give Scooby a bath before leaving Rancho Collapso.

Which makes four cable laying sessions in one morning!

I could wear it out at this rate.

Yeah I know, I am up for “Classiest blogger” in next years bloscars.

I do it quite often.

I don’t mean the out loud quite embarrassing chatting away t myself thing that I have confessed to on here – that is just random burbling.

No, I sometimes have to look at myself and tell myself that I am being stupid. I actually have to explain to myself why I am silly for feeling a certain way and point out all the reasons why I am being unreasonable.

It does actually help most of the time. I used to know someone who would do the same thing to themselves. Which was good because we could do it to each other when needed. Confused yet?

Anyway. The talking to myself and telling my self I am actually stupid and silly and actually a bit self centred is helping a bit. Which is good.

In other news, I just did one of those blogthings quizzes that a friend sent to me and have found out I am 80% Pirate. I know! Only 80%! I think it was my liking for bathing and being clean that spoiled my score, and the fact that I did actually think having a hook for a hand would be a dis-advantage. I mean, how would I play guitar…

In other other news, I could really do with some good news today. But I don’t think I am going to get any.

Oh well.

In a lot of religions, if you are a believer of course – there is a place you are told you will spend eternity after you die. Heaven, Nirvana, Summerland…whatever.

I have no recollection of hearing that anyone was turned away from them for being in the wrong outfit though.

Which makes me wonder why certain religions and sects dress the way they do.

What is the point?

Any deity worth the name can see into your soul, into the very heart of your being and know exactly what is going on in there. Do all the good deeds you want, follow the rules of your religious book to the letter, but your deity KNOWS you.

So it must mean that what is inside you that counts.

So there I am coming back from lunch and I see a group of Hari Krishnas having a chat on the corner. Nothing unusual there, there is a Krishna temple just off Soho square, but they were all dressed in the robes and billowy trouser jobbies that seem to go with it. And the hair cut that they must have.

I am all for religious freedom but it made me think about faiths that tell you how to dress or how to cut your hair.

Personally, if a faith told me to be a good person, to help where I could, to protect those I care about without deliberately doing harm to others, I’d say “fine, sounds fair”

But if I was also told “and you must dress like this and cut your hair in this fashion” I would have to say “Why? What good does that do? How does that make me a better person? Will I not gain entry into the afterlife if I don’t have the proper haircut or the right apparel?”

And then I would just probably walk away.

(And lets face it, after my last post anything would be lighter)

Just saw a bloke outside walking a very young chocolate Labrador down the busy street.

This dog, still full of the joys of youth – was exercising his retriever instincts to their full extent. He was happily trying to “fetch” every interesting item he walked past: scrunched up coffee house napkins, cigarette ends, empty sammich packets…

The owner had to stoop down ever few seconds to remove whatever treasure the pup had attained and throw them out of reach.

Labs do this, when they are happy or excited their retrieval instinct takes over – our Lab “Wonka the wonder dog” would “retrieve” a little three legged wooden footstool and parade round with it hanging form his jaws by one of the legs, wildly wagging his tail every time we had visitors.

I still have that little footstool. I like the fact that Wonka has left his teeth marks on it like he is going to come back and pick it up again one day.

Soppy git ain’t I.

There is a girl sat at a desk here in Weird inc, sobbing quite loudly.

She is about 20 feet away from me.

I have no idea who she is.

I have seen her outside, she was meeting an older looking man. This was weeks ago. They hugged and kissed and went off for lunch somewhere.

No one is reacting to her.

No one is taking her to one side and asking her what is wrong.

She is not getting up and going outside either.

Like I said I have no idea who she is.

Seems rather upset.

God the workplace can be so cold sometimes.

Yes OK, I have nothing to blog all day so am resorting to stories of my being a smart Alec at work to amuse you with. If it does of course….

Anyway, I go to the basins to wash my hands – the taps on said basins have sensors and only come on for a short time when you put your hands under them.

At the basin next to me is Mr JC from our legal department. I wash my hands and look at him trying to flush the ink out of a cartridge pen so he can put a new ink cartridge in. He has to keep moving the nib end back and forth under the tap to get a steady stream of water.

This pen is of course of the gold plated nib variety and looks very posh. As I was my hands and he moves his half pen section to and fro under the intermittent flow he comments –

“Why can’t we have proper taps!”

I just couldn’t stop.

“Why can’t you live in the 21st century and use a ballpoint like everyone else?”

I must stop saying what I am actually thinking to big managerial types.

BIRDSEEEEEEEEED!

all over the place.

Anyone got a broom?

Eeeep.

A thing what I have just made up.

Write a list of all the places that you have been that appear in song titles!

Note – Not places that are mentioned in songs, the place has to be in the song title and you have to have been there.

So off the top of my head I get:

Acapulco – (“Loco in Acapulco” crap song from a crap film I know)

N17 – Ok, stretching this one but it is a road in Ireland and features in the title of a song by the Sawdoctors. I can bend the rules because I made them. So there.

Plaistow – as in “Plaistow Patricia” by Ian Drury.

Billericay - as in “Billericay Dicky” by the above gentleman.

New York – “New York, New York” by tons of people.

France – “Lost in France” Ok, bit of a big target but I have been there.

Mexico – “Going down to Mexico” by Paul Gilbert.

America – “America” from West side story or the ELP version even.

London – “Werewolves of London” Warren Zevon.

Dagenham – “Dagenham Dave” Morrissey and also the Stranglers! And the town of my Birth… a fact that I am not particularly proud of, but you can’t choose where you are born.

Loch Lomond - "On the bonny bonny banks of LL" by a bloke in a skirt.

Edit:

Chinatown - Thin Lizzy

Baker street - erm....that bloke...the song with the sax and guitar solo....yeah that one.

Soho - "Solo in SoHo" - Phil Lynott.

Anyway, I am sure you world travellers can come up with more places but can you find songs that mention them in the title?

Well it has to be better than working eh?

Apparently, a certain Mr Francis Rossi of ageing "Beat Combo" Status Quo has cut off his ponytail.

Ahem!

Some of us did that a year ago, like...c'mon dood!

Get an original Idea for once!

Where I lead, others follow......

But does that mean that he now looks like me, rather than me looking like him?

See how he likes spending the rest of his life with people coming up to him and saying "'Ere! you look just like that bloke Old Nick from blog!"

Yes, your tour may have taken you away from us no life blogging addicts but you have not been forgotedered.

Nope.

So I hope you have a very happy birthday tucked away out there in the back of beyond and are being pampered and spoilt rotten.

The odd post wouldn't go amiss ya know......

Mwah!

Just passed Noel Fielding of “the Mighty Boosh” fame in Soho Square and can report that he too is about the same height as me!

Mind you the first time I saw him in the square he looked taller, but suspect that may have been due to some form of heel-age.

And no….I do NOT have even the slightest teensiest man crush on him AT ALL!

How very DARE you!

Because when I look up my name I get this...

1 - nick. Bag of weed costing $5. Short for "Nickel".
We had a dime last night, but we smoked it down to a nick.

2 - Nick. the most amazing person alive with a huge penis
Nick p. has a huge penis

3 - nick. to sleep with any girl that comes your way, regardless of looks...cause hey, you wanna fuck, she's there, and you're drunk enough to do it.
guy 1: Did you take that random chick home with you last night?

guy 2: Fuck yeah, I nicked her!

Charming.

Mind you the full version of my first name gives something a bit better, but only just.

The perfect hotel for Landers and Scooby maybe?

and other stuff.....

S'nuff.

Just a short while ago in Carnaby Street, a young female “Charity Mugger” walked over to me and smiled that warm smile they must practice for hours –

“Good Morning Captain! How are you today?”

CAPTAIN?

Who told her eh?

Tonight I mean...

You have seen loads of piccies from me of other medieval cities before (Bruges, Tallin etc.) so shall I inflict more on you later?

Or shall I put up those cod artistic ones I always seem to take while sitting somewhere getting drunk?

Or the pictures of people saying "Fuck off! stop taking my picture!" or stooped over menus in restaurants and cocktail bars....

I dunno.

I took loads but I could only bring myself to put up a couple last night.

Do you want to see anymore?

Because I am not sure if I can be arsed to put anymore up.

In relation to my post about the weekend.

In case you wondered....

meh.

If you click on this picture and put your face real close to the screen, that is about as big as this meal looked.

So if you have been following you can cross one of the things on the list off....

I am so good to you people....

Imagine Walt Disney had designed Disney land with a hangover after a night on the old Absinth...

And then we had a night at the opera.... well sort of.....

Outside

On top..

What lurks beneath...

The above bar would be the best place for a blog piss up.

Because of the below....yes UP YOURS GORDON BROWN! PEOPLE IN EUROPE CAN STILL SMOKE AND DRINK IN WONDERFUL SURROUNDINGS AND NOT BE TREATED LIKE SCUM!!!

Anway, a small sample of the photos I took.......

oh, I will leave you with this one....

Tis my birthday as some of you know, and I am back here from Prague trying to drink just enough to be happy and merry but not too much to be too ill to go to work tomorrow.

Loads of posts to read and loads of photos to post.

But as it is my birthday I am going to indulge myself by sticking even more of my cd collection onto i-tunes.

I know, what a rock and roll life style eh?!

And I am very disappointed that no one has got the odd one out in my last post.

Shame on you all.

And thanks for all the posts and pms.

xxx

For mai burfday doncha know, with the usual suspects..

One of the statements below is not true.

You guess which one.

A - We found a fantastic art Deco bar under the opera house that the rest of the city seemed not to know about.

B - When we arrived our hotel was shut for renovation and had been since January.

C - Cigarettes are just over £2 a packet.

D - I ate half a duck with bread dumplings, potato dumplings and pickled red cabbage served in a baking tray, while a man dressed as a Czech (happy now you pedantic bastards that won't let me be dyslexic in peace) soldier played violin and a very big lass dressed as a milk maid plucked a double bass.

E - We got horribly lost and could not read the map because the print was too small so ended up going into hotel and saying "help! we am old and can't see this friggin map please book us a cab home because according to the guide book all the taxi drivers out there are rip off merchants!" and they told us we were twenty minutes from our hotel. But we took the cab anyway because we were full of food and knackered.

F - one of us got blind drunk and/or ended up in a strip joint

Prague.

Is pretty.

The stupid fucking English stag/hen parties are NOT!

Such wonderful ambassadors for our country.

Anyway, I am old-old nick now.

Even more so.

Need a snooze probably.......Pass the slippers and the chewing tobacco lass....

I have just started the biggest and scariest game of "Chicken" ever!

Or is it "Poker" - Well I don't know how to play poker so maybe that analogy is rubbish.

Anyway, my nerves have now got me vibrating so much that were any female to sit upon me they would immediately go cross eyed with pleasure.

In other news……..

There is no other news.

I get all the normal things happening to me when I feel nervous or agitated - shaky hands, get a bit snappy and impatient, throat feels tight and constricted - but I have a new one this morning to ad to those...

My teeth feel like they are tingling/throbbing!

It is most odd.

Any.

Plough on through and all that.......

Sarah received a letter the other day.

It was from the building society I get our travel insurance from, informing her that under the data protection act they were bound by law to inform her that someone was buying a policy and naming her on it.

She is 9.

Of course someone else was buying a policy you numpties! how many 9 year olds do you know that book their own travel insurance!

It was probably because I was listed at being at one address and Sarah at another.

And yes you do have to tell them the dates of birth of the people applying so they new she was 9.

Mind you, she was very impressed at getting her first bit of official correspondence from a building society!

"Oooh can I tell my teacher! can I tell my friends!"

Some people are easily pleased.

Why is there this stereotype that men are crap at talking about their feelings or having empathy, but women are good at these things?

Now before all you men start a “Well they never bloody stop talking about their feelings so no wonder we never talk about ours – we don’t get the time!” comment war, I am being serious.

I have known chaps that are very good at saying what it is they are feeling.

And I have met some who are very good at knowing – without having to ask even – what someone is or may be feeling.

And I have (oh joy) known women with no empathy who were rather backwards at talking about what they felt.

Is it just the fact that these examples are the exceptions that prove the rule?

Oh god I am getting all deep and metaphysical….

Anyway, don’t ask me what I think about it. And really don’t ask me what I feel either because I am crap at all that communication stuff…….

The BBC believes most people will have only read 6 of the 100 books here. How do your reading habits stack up?

Instructions:
Look at the list and make bold those you have read and italicise the ones you own but haven't read yet (note, not just own and will never read ).

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling - fuck right off!
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible - read bits.....does that count?
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte - The song is a no then?
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien never again though.....
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov I bet you are so suprised....
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante I have seen the towering inferno, it can't be that different....
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Read 14 out of a hundred.

meh.

I obviously am a dumb by the BBC standards.....

I seem to remember sometime ago hearing the saying that if a bird takes a dump on you it is lucky. And by “Bird” I mean a member of the avian species – I am not for once talking about some very pervy sex or being taken advantage of by your girlfriend.

This morning on the way to the station I thought it was quite lucky that I narrowly missed being on the receiving end of a Seagulls first motion of the day, as it splatted onto the pavement a mere foot in front of me from said birds lofty perch on the lamppost.

But just now on the way out to the cash machine I was properly “Tagged” by a pigeon, just on the right side of my chest. And I was wearing a nice fuzzy fleece – oh great.

I got most of it off with a tissue and then went round to get some anti-bacterial wipes from the chemist to finish the clean up. They did a good job of cleaning of the remaining crap but left me looking like I had sneezed down myself for a while until it dried out. Got some very odd looks on the way back to the office.

So remind me, who said it was lucky again?

Idiots.

Stress levels rising to a point where you are a danger to be around? - Check.

Weekend approaching? - Check.

Feeling like you could sleep through the entire period and still feel knackered? - Check.

Cold that has been here for about a week getting a bit worse rather than better? - Check.

Hmmm,

This must mean something....but what.....

What have I forgotten.....

Oh yes! that is it - I am going away on Friday for the weekend to celebrate my birthday......bugger. Just once I would like to go on a long weekend feeling healthy and rested so I can get the most out of it, not tired and sniffly....Oh well I will have to make the most of it.

Yes, it is the birthday of one of my fav bloggers and well known typing error LYNDLJ

Hope you have a fantastic birthday filled with treats and happyness.

Or if you are work, I hope no one ruins your day..

xxxx

I am getting confusticated with the amount of fish people coming out of the woodwork.......or summink.

Anyway, do you think that pisces people are more prone to blog than others?

An interesting avenue for research perhaps for someone with far too much time on their hands to look into..

Anyway.

Happy Birthday Cassiopea.

Hope it is a good one.

But I have the right to think you look awful.

Sat in Mollys last night with Deccardo and V having a drink and a chat, catching up as we have not actually seen each other since last year, generally having a good time.

By now you should all know about Mollys – it has a certain “ambience” shall we say. Two nights of the week it hosts a cabaret show featuring drag artists. Well it is in Soho remember.

A little while before we called it a night, a woman came in through the doors arm in arm with a very old looking man. He was tall and very thin and must have been in his seventies, and he was definitely a man.

But he was wearing a wig, make up that would have looked a bit much on Mr Punch, dangly earrings of the Pat Butcher style, a short furry jacket, a cocktail dress, black opaque tights and high heeled shoes.

We were very good, we didn’t stare – no one in the bar did.

But the thing that really made me mutter “Oh god no” into my Vodka and Coke was when “She” took off her fur jacket to reveal that the cocktail dress a plunging backline, revealing the full glory of the blotchy, liver spotted back with the lumpy central crest of vertebrae.

Not the best look in the world.

So as the bar staff were actually setting stuff up for an open mike karaoke night, we decided to head off.

I don’t think I could have handled it if “she” had got up to sing.

But hey, more power to “her”. Freedom of expression and all that….

You have a fantastic day you hear?!

And I hope you get plenty of hugs as you give plenty out - virtually and in real life (I think my ribs have healed now)

Make sure you treat yourself today but I am sure hubby will take care of that.

xxx

I noticed that Prets think we are all very stupid. On the back of their sammich bags they now give you “recipes” detailing how to make sandwiches as good as there….

I bloody know how to make a sandwich! They even go as far as telling you how many slices of bread to use ferchirstsake!

The single most annoying part is right at the end though:

“Place second slice of bread on top, press down gently to fix, slice and eat”

Oh right! THAT is what sandwiches are for!

And here is me sitting staring at them till they go mouldy – I thought they were installation art!

Bastards!

Feeling rather unwell this morning.

Like I may well make free with the "stripy laugh" before too long.

Why?

Well being hungover and having monkey attacks makes your stomach a rather volatile place.

Mind you, I am going out tonight so behaving properly and looking after myself are pretty low down on the list.

And because of this I do actually have to eat stuff today, even though I may not feel like nomming too much.

I may sneak off to the sammich shop on the corner to see if anything in there says to me "Buy me! I won't make you sick! I will stay in your stomach for more than five minutes honest!"

Or as she is some times known - "Ethel the pirates daughter"

A young woman who has made an old man like me feel even older by calling me her "Internet dad"

She is full of life and confusion and trying her best, as we all are.

And also, like me - she is a fish!

Happy Birthday Deadgirldiaries.

Well I was going to do this last night, and I was going to do it tonight.....

But I got drunk again OK!

Sue me.

Bloscars organisers - I love you all.

Voters - You are all wonderful.

Unless you voted for someone else then basically feck off.

And I have been out all weekend doing stuff, and flinging birdseed all over the inside of my heeeed.

Ain't life grand.

All the "EEEEP" and "Birdseed flying in all directions" posts and me saying I will not discuss the reasons for those posts because I don't want to jinx it DOES NOT mean I have found a new love interest.

It is about something more scary and expensive than love or sex.

and no, I will not explain any further you nosey buggers.

Just wish me luck.