I Do Not Think You Will Find It Here

Bye Bye

2006-03-09T22:41:00.000Z

It's probably not a shock.

I don't like Google anymore.

I don't have the time.

I don't have anything interesting to say or the skills to say it properly.

Don't bother coming back.

I won't be writing here anymore.

Honest.

Go here and help if you can.

Goodbye To The Grunt

2006-01-20T23:36:00.000Z

I am busy in the mornings.
I am busy at work.
I am very busy in the evenings.

As a result of all this busyness I don't keep up with news and other "stuff" as much as I used to, or would like to.

I don't know when it happened but I quite literally just found out that Wilson Pickett has recently died/passed on/crossed over.

Gutted.

Perhaps You Can Help

2006-01-01T17:15:00.000Z

I once wrote that I always wake up with a tune in my head. I also may have
once wrote that I don't always like to think too much about some things
because I may not like the answers. Especially when I am analysing myself
(which I do more often than I realised).

The tunes in my head this morning were:-

"Flower of Scotland". I'm not Scottish and have no ancestral links with
Scotland whatsoever (unless you lump all celts together that is, where one
might argue the case for a tenuous link). I do like the tune though.

The "RS232" song performed by the Status Quo impersonators on Spitting
Image.

I don't know whether to worry or
not.........................................

Got Dem Ol' Blues

2005-12-14T22:49:00.000Z

Shall I?

Na. Fuck it.

Can't be arsed.

I Didn't Stick My Finger In A Woodpecker's Hole

2005-12-05T23:58:00.000Z

It's been a while.
I know I should do it more often. After all, I enjoy it.
I just don't seem to have the energy these days.
I always feel better after I've done it though.
There always seems to be a million other more important things to do.

The Case

2005-11-07T23:04:00.000Z

I have yet to hear Tony Blair come up with ONE decent reason for extending the interrogation time to 90 days, except on the advice of the Police. I don't want to rake up the recent debate on the UK Police Service, however much of this advice comes from Ian Blair. A man who is KNOWN to be a fucking liar. I don't particularly trust politicians, but I trust the police less. Abuse of current anti terror legislation has recently been in the press. The Police have too much power and have proved time and time again that they can't be trusted with it.

First day of the new job is over. Fairly straight forward. I've had an email address for a week, and therefore a batch of mail to go through already. Can't get on to the main database though...................

Well I'll Be

2005-10-28T17:22:00.000Z

I got a job. In fact, as I write this, I have two to choose from. Perhaps more importantly, I actually got the one I wanted. Interview early this morning after sitting three fairly in-depth tests. As I had already been offered one, I felt it only fair to let them know (diplomatically of course) that I would need a decision pretty quickly. I didn't expect to get a phone call early afternoon asking me if I wanted to job. When I answered in the affirmative she told me it was mine. Waa. Hoo.

1 more week off then I start earning again. Waa. Hoo.

Well, Good Things And All That......

2005-10-11T08:56:00.000Z

Well, I've been offered a job. One that while not the "perfect" job, is probably good enough. For a smallish company, a good thing, for a smallish salary, a bad thing. Calling upon skills I have learned and relearned. Mentally maybe not initially very stimulating, but that could improve. Location is a problem as far as expense goes but nothing that can't be overcome. I may take it but if things go according to plan (i.e. being offered another job having passed the first interview with another company) I won't. I want the other job more. Time and financial constraints will probably determine the outcome. Which I suppose in one way is quite sad but nevertheless I live in the real world. At least I think I do.

The missus is not well. Heavy, heavy cold resulting in a day off work which is pretty unusual for her. So the weekend has meant a lot of running around keeping things going while she doses herself up and goes back to bed. I'm starting to feel like she passed it on to me, damn. And I've got another interview this afternoon. Bugger.

The dog is in pretty good shape at the moment. The arthritis in his hips is being held at bay and there are no signs as yet of kidney problems caused by his medication. Ear wax is a concern but we can deal with that. Hearing and eyesight are not good but hey, he's an old man.

I hope the U.S. gets it's arse kicked in the discussions over who should control the internet. I don't trust ICANN because they do whatever the dictator currently residing in the White House tells them to do. I like America and Americans a lot, specially Winona Ryder, but I can't help but still be pissed off that they foisted that useless fucking turdpiece on us all for another four years. I mean fancy having as your surname a living organism that's actually more intelligent than you.

Give www.openoffice.org a go.

Silly Time

2005-10-10T08:23:00.000Z

This is another pissy pic from the garden. Me and youngest step-daughter have a new game. I take a silly photo, muck around with it then she tries to guess what it is. She didn't get this one, although she made a couple of decent guesses.

Is it me, or the whole world falling to pieces around our ears?

A Little Different

2005-10-08T12:03:00.000Z

I haven't put any pictures on here for ages, mainly because I don't find the Picasa/Hello thing particularly user friendly. Anyway, this was taken in my garden and I pissed about with Picassa, which was great fun, until I got this final result. It's called "The End Of Summer". Pretentious I know, but hey, it was.

The Pace Is Slow

2005-10-03T13:10:00.000Z

Well I'm still unemployed. Or, to be totally accurate, I will be employed only for the next four days. The pace has slowed down a little. Suitable jobs have been a bit thin on the ground in the local papers and the agencies have been a little bit quiet with possibilities. Temporary work is on the cards and isn't what I wanted. But c'est la vie. The search goes on. I just hope that temporary work, no matter how poorly paid, is regular. Christmas isn't far away and there are two birthdays between then and now as well. I'm waiting for two companies to come back to me with yea or nays, and another to send me the spec of a job I thought I had already applied for (see previous entry).

I've started doing DIY in the house. I hate DIY. Really, I'm not good at it, I don't like it and did I mention that I don't like it? Mind you, the kitchen is finally finished. A few finishing touches that took two years to complete. Did I mention I hate DIY?

My girlfriend puts up with a lot. Not all (in fact not even most) from me. But I am a little embarrassed about a job taking two years to complete. Mind you, I detest DIY. The upstairs loo is next. Again a job that a lot of the nasty stuff has been done and it just needs finishing. I'm actually not as reticent about completing jobs as this entry may suggest. There are reasons why many don't get finished, some good, some bad. Hating DIY is only one of them. I could write a list, but that would be a little Aristotelian I think.

Good And Bad

2005-09-27T13:40:00.000Z

I didn't get the job I wanted. In fact this is a good thing, because the job description was slightly open to (legitimate) interpretation and the actual role turned out not be the same as my interpretation. So really it wasn't the job I wanted. If I had been offered it I would have taken it and then only found out afterwards. I wasn't offered it because I was over qualified for it. Which is nice.

I think.

Anyway onwards and upwards. I should hopefully get more news on some others tomorrow or the day after. Fingers X'ed.

I fancy a cup of tea. Bye.

More And More

2005-09-21T22:13:00.000Z

I've now realised that the more applications I send off for a new job, the more interviews I get. One more tomorrow and one more on Friday.

It's quite reassuring that I appear to have some skills that employers want. Of course, I haven't actually being offered a job yet.

I Don't Know

2005-09-20T08:11:00.000Z

Well I think the interview went well. Thoughts of "would I take it if offered" have been replaced by "I hope I get it". Should hear any time soon.

I went to the 25th birthday bash of the company I have just left. I got a personal invite from the CEO no less. It was a good day, if a little chilly, and it was nice to get a proper chance to say cheerio to everyone. There was plenty of free beer and food, and rides for the kids. I got pretty drunk, but a good kind of drunk. Not the type where you pour as much alcohol down your neck as quickly as possible, but the type when you drink at a steady pace during the afternoon/evening. And no heartburn the next day !

I'm getting bored at home now. The job applications are getting bloody tedious, they ALL ask the same questions. One company invited email applications to an email address that no longer worked. Do I want to work for them? Well, actually yes. The job sounds interesting and I am suitably qualified. I sort of liked the idea of being at home for a while, and it's been ok, but I am starting to find things a little quiet. It's not so much that I miss the social interaction of going to work, although that's a part of it, it's more that the days all start to seem the same. I lose track of what day we're on all the time anyway, but when not much happens from one day to the next it gets even harder to remember. I would hate to be long term unemployed or long term sick and I feel sorry for anyone who is.

They say you got to go there to come back, and you've got to hit the bottom before you get to the top. I have no idea if these statements are true or not. I guess it depends on the individual and the circumstances. They sound like platitudes to me, or clumsy lines from a country and western song (have I ever mentioned how much I detest country and western music? I'll save that for another day). I have no idea. About the only thing I've learned from not being at work is that I do not like dusting or hoovering and in a family of 5 people (3 of whom are growing so quickly it's almost visible to the naked eye) the washing is NEVER "done". I suppose I should be spending my time "reflecting". Navel gazing. Sorting out issues (because I do have some). The truth is, I like my issues. They may be good or bad, they may be silly and childish or adult and serious, they may be real or not, in my head or in my heart, but they are a part of me. As much as my legs or my arms. I don't believe in a world where there are no issues. That's Hell, not Heaven. If we lived in Utopia we would all die of boredom. They say that "evil" (for want of a better word) will always fail in the end because it carries with it the seeds of it's own destruction. I don't see how that only applies to evil. I reckon the best place to be is somewhere in the middle. I reckon some of the eastern philosophies and religions have just about got it right. You reap what you sow. I'll live with that. For the things I do wrong I will at some point pay a price and I accept that, for those that I do right I will receive a benefit. If I stack the good and the bad beside each other I think there's more good than bad so I guess I'm doing ok.

Perhaps I should do it a bit more often just to remind myself.

Well Then...............

2005-09-15T10:57:00.000Z

Tick tock tick tock...............2.5 hours to interview. I've been wished good luck by lots of people already. I haven't had a proper job interview for about 7 years.

I'm not sure that updating this blog right now is the best preparation.............

I'm not even sure I want the job.......................

Problem: What happens if I get offered it and I don't want it? I need the salary. I could find myself back in the boat I recently abandoned. I have bills to pay and mouths to feed. What if I turn it down and nothing else comes up? Feck, I don't even really know what I truly want to do. Bumbling along for 37 years has been good, but "bumbling" is starting to feel like "drifting" which implies a lack of control and direction. Which, of course, is totally apt.

Isn't "apt" a great word??

Stipes' lyric is starting to rear it's head:

"I sit at my table
Wage war on myself
It seems like it's all
It's all for nothing"

Laters................or should that be

L8rz

Here Be The Start Of The End

2005-09-13T21:37:00.000Z

Tomorrow we will see the rehashed, polibabble fudge that will be the "new" U.N. It won't be America's puppet, honest guv. Or, rather it will, like now, except no one will say so. Like now.

Flipper, "Hostage" shit me up. Thanks.

Got an interview on Thursday. Oo-er. Getting bored with being at home. Already. Why? I thought I would enjoy it for a while longer.

I'm not a cricket fan, and the recent victory over Australia won't turn me into one. But I am an appreciator of sport and it was a fantastic series over the summer. Everything that world class sport should be. Thanks and congratulations to both teams. Well done to England, it was going to take something special to beat Australia and they produced when it was needed. Congratulations to the umpires who did a brilliant job. Goodbye to Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath. "World Class", "Legends" and "Heroes" are sporting terms shamefully devalued by their overuse but in those two guys they are more than apt. Cricket will be poorer.

Perhaps I Should Read More

2005-09-09T19:56:00.000Z

I don't normally go back and re-read what I've written before. But I have re-read my last entry and it doesn't really come across as how I had intended.

I didn't mean to sound ungrateful for the messages of support from people I know. My phrasing was poor.

Thanks all.

What Have I Done To Deserve This?

2005-09-07T21:52:00.000Z

Since I did what I did on Monday one thing has struck me. In fact, two things have struck me, one in the arm. But that's not what I'm talking about.

A few people I only loosely stay in contact with now know that I have left my job. They know this as my former employer has sent a general email to all the contacts in my contact list explaining that I am no longer there. Fair enough. No issues there.

What has surprised me is not that people have wished me well. I would do the same to someone who has quit their job in the circumstances I quit mine. What really surprises me is the number people who have told me they wish they had the guts/bottle/bravery etc etc to do the same. One of the people who told me this worked for the company I just left!!

Are there really that many people unhappy in their work? I realise that many don't like what they do and would quit if they could, if they won the lottery for example. But really, come on. I haven't solved any problems as such by leaving. I've just substituted the ones I had for different ones. I wasn't expecting the world to change much when I drove out of the car park for the last time, and it hasn't. One thing that hasn't changed is that bloody cartoon advert with Max Wilde declaring his love for all types of horrible vegetables. I still HATE that advert.

And if I'm so brave or have so much "balls", why am I shitting myself?

He's Only Gone And Bloody Done It

2005-09-05T21:50:00.000Z

Today is indeed a day of days. I wrote a long time in a pretentious, overblown sort of way about changes coming. About how I could feel them. Well here they are. They took longer to get here than I thought, a bit like WAGN train. But here they are finally. Aged 37 this particular "man" has looked around him and decided that the bad bits are getting bigger at the expense of the goods bits. There are not many bad bits, but their shadows are getting bigger. And now is the time to reflect a bit of light back, to shorten them again. So I've taken a big step back with the intention of taking a giant one forward.

I quit my job.

At 2.25pm today I handed in my notice and, being in sales where potentially a great deal of damage to the company was doable, I was immediately invited to leave. Which I did.

Of course now I need to figure out what I'm going to do next. I have to work that's certain. Not for any ingrained working class pride. I have to work for the money. My girlfriend can't support us indefinitely, even if I wanted her to.

Trepidation. At 37 my decision needs to be right. With the way things are these days it could well be the last career decison I make. Sales is out. I've definitely decided to close that door, lock it, throw the key down the throat of a great white shark and bung up it's arsehole so that it doesn't get out again. So what does that leave me? A wealth of office experience. Some warehouse experience. Good Lord, some fruit-and-veg-market-stall experience, some shop experience. Do I fall back on any of these? My initial gut response is: Do I fuck. Try something new. But what? What? However, the choice may not entirely be mine. I won't make it as a guitarist or a writer. So I won't be getting paid for those (shame).

Time to browse papers, agencies. To pick up the phone and talk to people I'll never really know except on a professional level, never have a real interest in. Time to sit in front of a screen reading endless data hour after hour in the hope of finding a pin prick of useful info amidst all the crap.

A bit like what I used to get paid for.......................

(I'll keep you posted).

Extraordinary Lengths In The Land Of The Free

2005-08-31T18:37:00.000Z

Go guys.

Being Here

2005-08-25T22:33:00.000Z

I like the fact that I can drive 5 miles in any direction and hear a different regional accent.

I like the fact that as long as I remain on this island I'll never be more than 72 miles away from the sea (as the crow flies).

I like the fact that we have silly sayings (like "As the crow flies").

I like the fact that we do such a rubbish job of copying others.

I like it that our popular music is the best in the world and the worst in the world at the same time.

I like it that if you watch a group of us together it will only take a very short amount of time before one or more of us laughs. Even at a funeral.

I like the fact that we are so sentimental and yet we try so hard to hide it.

Our coastline is brilliant.

I like our crappy weather. All that rain makes for great scenery.

I like the fact that we can not think something through properly, do it anyway, call it "We Haven't Quite Thought This Through" and it doesn't seem particularly weird.

O M G

2005-08-22T22:22:00.000Z

I have just read some comments on the Guestbook thingy I put on this blog-journal-gibberish-shite. I'm actually quite moved that people who I don't know nor ever will bothered to write something. I'm chuffed and embarrassed. And The Amp are currently playing "Yellow" by Coldplay. I'm not much of Coldplay fan (The new U2? I don't think so darling, not yet anyway) but I do like this song.

So, ta. I wonder if person from Brazil was really-actually-truly from Brazil. If so, how cool is that? Brazil. Wow.

All property is theft. Quite true. Nevertheless, you go anywhere even fucking close to my CD Collection and you're a dead 'un.

Now they're playing "Teenage Kicks" by The Undertones. Did I just die and go to heaven without noticing? If I did, Sir Ian Blair will shortly get a bolt of lightening up his sorry, sorry arse.

Google Query

2005-08-11T17:45:00.000Z

There's a place in America that looks after dogs. All types, but with an emphasis on Boston Terriers. It's called Po's Dog House. They have lots of useful links to other doggie sites.

I don't know what they could have done wrong, but Google doesn't seem to like them very much, especially the baby dogs.

After all, why would my Google taskbar have a button that blocks Po Pups?

Would Somebody Please Explain

2005-08-09T21:35:00.000Z

I've never understood America's obsession with iron oxide.

The first bit makes sense, after all it's predominantly a Christian country. But the second bit leaves me dumbfounded. And not only iron oxide, but DAMP iron oxide. Why?

Who knows. I'm sure there's a perfectly rational explanation. Until I know what it is I'll just keep on wondering.

Anyway, In God Wet Rust.

Lest We Forget

2005-07-11T22:10:00.000Z

Today marks the 10th anniversary of one of the most shameful episodes in European and UN history. The massacre of 8000 Muslims (mostly male) at Srebrenica by Bosnian Serbs is a crime that ranks as one of the worst wartime atrocities since World War II. It took Bosnia Serb "soldiers" 8 days of bloodshed and carnage to hunt down enough men to satisfy the hatred and bloodlust of their military commanders; men who were filmed by news teams promising the safety of the civilians. To this day the men responsible remain uncaptured and unpunished.

The UN forces in the Balkans at the time were unable or unwilling to help, or were simply barred from doing so.

10 years ago I was 27. I was, I thought, reasonably politically aware. I NEVER remember a report by ANY journalist at the time saying 8000 people died at Srebrenica. All I remember hearing was that it has been some kind of battle front. I heard afterwards of evidence of genocide and mass graves. Indeed, there is fresh evidence of more graves coming to light now.

My abiding memories of the conflict is a slogan on a wall saying "Welcome to Sarajevo"; a speech by the head of the IOC pleading for the warring factions to "put down your guns" as he opened the Winter Olympics (because Sarajevo had been a previous host of the Olympic Games); and an old woman, barely able to talk through her tears, wailing "Shame on the UN. Shame on the World". She may have been talking about Srebrenica or some other brutal consequence of war. I don't know.

And I remember thinking "Shame on the leaders of Europe" who sat back and watched until America decided enough was enough and came in to sort out the fucking mess that we had been too cowardly to do.

Another Bloggers Take On London

2005-07-10T22:16:00.000Z

I deliberately didn’t post until now because I wanted to think for a while about the events in London instead of offering a knee-jerk response.

In a strange way, one of my strongest emotions was a kind of relief. We’ve known for a long time that something like this was going to happen. We were unsure how it was going to pan out, and where (although London was almost a certainty). After that we were guessing. Now it’s happened I kind of have a feeling that the fear has been taken away. And although the deaths and injuries are tragic, the numbers so far in a city of over 10 million people are astonishing.

I don’t mean that to sound like I’m throwing down a gauntlet, but it’s almost like saying to those who did it, “Is that it? Is that your best shot? Is that really the best you can do?”

It would appear that simple mass murder was not the number one priority, despite what the pundits on the T.V. say. Although there’s little doubt the perpetrators have no concern for innocent victims, if they were simply trying to kill as many people as possible they went about it the wrong way. Tube trains are specifically designed to contain explosions. Any basic research would have told them that. This prevents tunnel collapse and fire spreading. And in a gruesome way, less people are seriously injured on a packed tube because those closest to the device act as a shield for those further away from it, who therefore have a barrier from the device itself and also metal and glass debris. It appears that the bus explosion was actually meant for one of the tube stations, although that was little consolation to my girlfriend who was close enough to hear it go off.

Political leaders have rallied around Tony Blair in a welcome show of solidarity. My only other comment on that is that it still sticks in my craw a little that George W Bush rightly condemns what happened and claims freedom and democracy will prevail the day after Judith Miller (journalist for The New York Times) is jailed for not revealing her sources during an investigation into the unmasking of a CIA operative.

It Didn't Take Long, Did It?

2005-07-04T21:47:00.000Z

As I write this, 48 hours ago almost to the minute, the Live 8 concert in Hyde Park was coming to a close. A fantastic idea, great bands, a truly noble cause, unbelievable co-ordination of a million factors, one man's vision (ably assisted by others). I could go on.

When it was over there was a moment, a snapshot, when I actually believed it might make a difference. It might be a genuine catalyst for change. A small step for mankind. A start. A long way to go for sure, but a start. On tonight's news I see reports of rioting in Edinburgh, police using batons on the public they are sworn to protect. On people who's right of protest is upheld only at the sufferance of our political masters. I have no doubt that there are ne'erdowells among the protestors, people using a worthy cause to mask their own darker agendas. We've seen it before and no doubt we'll see it again. My heart sinks at how low we are prepared to go sometimes. 48 hours. It didn't take long did it? In today's politics a long time isn't even a week any more. 48 hours. Time enough for 57,600 children to die as a direct result of poverty.

In a previous entry I may or may not have quoted a line from Maya Angelou's autobiography I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. Now, more than at any time I can think of since I first read it, it seems appropriate;

"We are an abomination. All of us."

NOTICE

2005-06-19T21:15:00.000Z

TEMPORARILY CLOSED TO, UMMM, THINK. I THINK.

I Believe It But I Don't Believe It

2005-06-13T21:48:00.000Z

The MJ verdicts were delivered about 30 minutes ago as I write this.

I have no problem with a jury finding an accused person not guilty based on the evidence put before them. In fact I applaud this wholeheartedly. I celebrate it. Justice seems to be getting harder to find. Along with justice however comes faith. I honestly have no faith in the American legal system (nor the British one for that matter in case I get accused of being judgmental from afar). If OJ had gone to jail I might have has more faith in the verdicts delivered today.

Let me put it plainly, I don't believe MJ is innocent of all the charges against him. I obviously have no evidence against him. If I am ever proved to be completely wrong I will be more than happy to admit it verbally or in writing. But I BELIEVE he has been found not guilty for some crimes he has committed. Blind faith from legions of diehard fans (equally as entitled to their opinions as I) will not sway me.

Anyway, how are you then?

I Don't Know What To Say

2005-06-07T20:53:00.000Z

I'm not particularly angry about anything, except on a theoretical level, since on a personal level I have precious little to be angry about.

I kind of mourn the loss of my anger. I realise we all mellow with age and I appreciate that this doesn't mean principles or beliefs become less valid or important. It just means that I have other priorities. When I think back about the things that truly made me angry there were few. Thatcher made me angry. There are not many people I genuinely despise but she is one of them. Her systematic rape of the country of my birth was so appalling that I can't forgive it. She may have thought she was doing the right thing but her and her fawning cronies are guilty of nothing less than a political desecration.

I hated Alexander O'Neal and Luther Vandross. Not personally as I never met them, but I hated their overblown, faux "talent". Their shit music and their shit lyrics. It seems silly to get angry about them, but when I was a teenager and early twentysomething I truly detested them.

If there was one thing I would say to myself if I had the ability to go back and do so, it would be "Get Your Head Out Of Your Arse, You Tosser".

Oh, and maybe "Go For It With KS". Which I know makes two.

Hated Atlantic Starr as well.

Rain And Blankets

2005-06-05T21:49:00.000Z

Well, it’s Sunday after a week off work. This week I did something I have never done before, and never really wanted to do, but something I look forward to doing again.

I and the family have been camping. Not the mincing around in feather boas kind of camping, but the living under a big hanky in a field kind of camping. Investing in a tent and a few things, borrowing some other pieces from neighbours and family, and piling the lot (including the dog) into the car and a two-and-a-half hour journey to Hastings and the adventure begins.

We checked the BBC weather website before leaving. It lied. It lied like a RUG. The sunny weather somehow morphed into gales, bright sunny intervals, a thunderstorm that would not have been out of place in the tropics and light showers. Only snow/hail was missing to complete the set.

I’m not going to go into a minute by minute account of the best and worst bits because that would take forever. I will summarise by saying I had really good time which made up for the cold and aching back I now have. I will just also say that there was another camper in a Union Jack tent who played music from The Godfather on his accordion at odd hours.

I have not had much time to write recently and the week away means I have been a little out of touch with events. I don’t have much to say so I will finish now with this thought:

“Up yours, Ash, now piss off”.

Wet Monday

2005-05-23T21:12:00.000Z

Saturday was a chance to meet up with some old mates for a fortieth birthday bash and to celebrate Arsenal’s fortunate victory in the FA Cup Final. Much alcohol (well, relatively speaking these days) was imbibed and Sunday’s headache was testament to a good do.

Sunday therefore was a day of sleep. Which in many ways was really good. The problem was that come bedtime, I wasn’t tired. A late film helped but I struggled until well after 1.00am to get to sleep.

At about 2.30am I was woken by a tap-tapping from the depths of the dark bedroom. The cat, I thought to myself, is going to fucking die. Right here, right now. Except the tap-tapping was a bit too metered to be a cat playing. And it was coming from the small box where the spare clothes hangers gather together. And it wasn’t a tap-tapping. It was a drip-dripping.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The water tank in the loft, above our bedroom, is overflowing. Again. And the overflow pipe is not doing it’s job. Again. Grapple into some boxers. Rush downstairs in the pitch black praying a) the cat isn’t on the stairs (he isn’t), and b) the dog isn’t at the foot of the stairs (he also isn’t, God love him). Stop-cock off. Hot taps on. In a few minutes hot water tank is empty and refilling from the main tank which is not now refilling and therefore in no danger of overflowing again. Another few minutes and the dripping in bedroom stops. Sleep. For a while. Because at 6.30am the heating and hot water comes on and needs to be switched off again.

Step-son has an annoying habit of getting up very early for a shower. I know I shouldn’t complain about a 15 year old male who actually bothers about personal hygiene, but it can be a pain. This morning in particular because I have to go and tell him, at 6.40am, that he can’t have a shower because a) there’s no hot water, and b) there’s no water. I try to explain why but a combination of my tired confusion and his tired confusion means the message gets misunderstood. I stumble blearily back to bed he stumbles blearily to the immersion switch and flicks it. Not good. The immersion tries to heat no water hotter than the normal hot water heater. He didn’t understand the bit when I said there was “NO WATER”. At all. Nada. Niet.

The tank is conveniently, or inconveniently depending on your point of view, situated in a small cupboard in our bedroom and makes very odd noises at the best of times. At 7.10am this morning it was making downright worrying noises. We put two and two together and decide something isn’t right. It sounds like the immersion is on without any water in the tank. Rush downstairs to discover this fact and correct it accordingly.

I get up at 7.30am anyway.

Update: The emergency plumber could take 6.5 hours. He actually arrives in about an hour and takes 10 minutes.

Update Update: Yep he took 10 minutes. Unfortunately in those 10 minutes he fails to fix the problem. We arrive home at the day's end to an artexed ceiling dripping with water. Water that has ingressed into the toilet next door, a portable TV sat atop a wardrobe, said wardrobe and most of the clothes inside, floorboards to the extent that the water drips all the way through and into the light in the kitchen downstairs. Emergency plumbers and electrician are called as the local housing association swing into action (yawn). Things are put right, including the thing that should have been put right to start with. It would appear that a careless mistake may have been made but I'm no expert so aspertions will not be cast. It appears that all is fixed and now we have damp, smelly clothes to rewash and a damp, smelly room to sleep in until everything dries out.

Welcome to a new week.

Rush Rush, Faster Faster

2005-05-20T12:09:00.000Z

Come on you Gunners (for tomorrow that is).

Chop chop busy busy work work bang bang.

What a day. Blimey. What an evening. Blimey blimey. A truly crap week at work is nearly over. I think I’ll make it.

The look of disappointment on youngest step-daughter’s face yesterday when she discovered her school trip to France would entail some homework was truly moving. I was unkind enough to chuckle a little, internally, because her face was an absolute picture of depression. She didn’t listen to the bit when the teacher said it would very quick, very easy and related to that day’s activity (which will include a day at Parc Asterix, I mean come on, how difficult will that be??) She just heard the word “homework” and all none essential bodily functions ground to a halt.

Kill The Frog

2005-05-18T21:20:00.000Z

Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It Kill It

Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhh

2005-05-17T11:36:00.000Z

Mornings are great aren't they? The earlier the better. The smell of coffee or tea. Toast or cereal with cold, fresh milk. Maybe a bagel as a treat. Warm shower. Nothing planned for the day, no deadlines. Silence. No T.V. No radio. Warm sunshine and a light breeze through the window. A letter from an old friend landing on the doormat. Deciding what to wear and then changing your mind a dozen times just because you can. Not thinking any further ahead than the next 30 minutes because you don't need to.

Hate mornings. The longer I stay in bed the better. Gulping down lukewarm tea so quickly you can't even taste it. Cramming toast down your gullet at the last minute. A second slice for a treat if you manage to find time. Freezing shower because the heating never came on. Again. Twenty things to do before leaving the house, twenty more before lunch and fifty before bed. On a good day. Screaming kids missing items of clothing, barking dog. T.V. on the kids channel too loud, or on a news channel for the latest news on the latest war. Pissing down with rain so the car might not start because of the damp. Bills crammed into the letterbox. All red. Deciding what shirt looks the least unironed. Thinking about 200 things at the same time and none of them properly.

Off Course, Fit And Pee

2005-05-16T14:57:00.000Z

Well, the courses at work are being received with the usual lack of enthusiasm that you get when staff take them out of a sense of having to do so rather than a sense of wanting to do so.

I've got a cold and some sun burn. The dog is rapidly going senile. The front garden looks very nice today. Hedge trimmed and grass cut. No daisies either. Which will last until this evening I reckon before it will need doing again.

The crazy frog ring tones are getting absolutely ridiculous.

It's a shame that one of the major uses we have of the amazing technology at our disposal is to send dirty pictures around the global very quickly. Even phones aren't safe anymore.

Eldest step-daughter has bought a tee-shirt with the slogan "You Say I'm A Bitch Like It's A Bad Thing". This is worryingly accurate. Still, at least this one fits. When I say "fit", I mean it covers her midriff. God I'm getting old. I might get a tee-shirt printed saying "You Say I'm Getting Old Like It's A Bad Thing". Which it isn't. Not really. Except first thing in the morning of course, which always comes too early. No pun intended regarding "morning" and "coming too early". I'm waffling now but at least I know I am.

The right side of my face hurts. It may be a jaw thing.

There is a rumour that Microsoft is producing a subscription based anti-virus, anti-spyware, auto-update service. They want to charge you to keep your machine safe from the people who attack it with impunity because of the security flaws in it's software. They want to sell you an incomplete system and then they want you to pay extra to make it complete. AV companies are not happy, although of course most of those have become very big and very rich and very influential by fixing and protecting systems from M$ flaws. I wouldn't buy a toaster that I know will catch fire just because the manufacturer can also sell me a fire extinguisher, so quite why I do it with my PC is a mystery.

The urinals at work have got it in for me. I am not by nature paranoid, at least no more than anyone else, however they really have got it in for me. Virtually every time I need to use one, they decide to go through their automatic cleaning routine, which involves a powerful jet of water passing through and around the bowl. This, of course, means excess spray. The number of times this has happened to me in recent weeks is far beyond coincidence or mathematical probability. This ventures into the realms of witchcraft. The problem is compounded by the fact that one pair of work trousers are lightish grey. So I sometimes wander back to my desk sheepishly looking like I've had a pee with a garden sprinkler attached to the end of my you-know-what.

Memo To Self

2005-05-12T21:07:00.000Z

Last home game of the season and Arsenal humiliate Everton 7-0.

Quite often outside the ground before the game on matchdays a man stands with a megaphone. He is a born again Christian and he espouses the rewards of turning to God. He deliberately targets the football crowd by using footballing slang. "Turn to Jesus, the winning captain", "You'll never get a nil-nil draw with God", "It's never too late, score an injury time winner by finding the Lord now" etc etc.

Last night was slightly different in that there were two guys working the "save the football heathens" beat. Three yards (I stopped to measure and you will see why in just a moment if you keep reading), stood two very lovely ladies. Very lovely indeed. In very figure-hugging black catsuits. They were handing out leaflets advertising a "show" they were appearing in, shouting catchy slogans like "Come and see us naked".

Football, and Arsenal in particular, have made great strides in recent years attracting more women and children to come and watch games. However, the majority of any crowd is still overwhelmingly male. Between the girls and the Christians who do you think got the most attention? There are no prizes for a correct answer.

Just for the record I didn't gawp (but I did, erm, "observe" for the purposes of this blog only of course), I didn't collect a leaflet and I won't be attending a performance of the "show". No matter how much I would like to.

Edging Forward

2005-05-05T23:14:00.000Z

It seems Spring has not quite sprung. A bank holiday weekend with nice weather, but not too nice, has been followed by a week of cooler temperatures and threats of rain. Summer still seems a way off. I'm reminded of a pregnant woman in the very early stages of childbirth. A contraction to warn of the impending event, then a long pause where things return to normal and nothing appears to be happening.

I read a letter in Bella magazine (while my lunch was heating up in the work microwave) from a reader who wanted to know the strange places other readers cats use as beds. Printed was a picture of Tiddles or Sooty or whatever the thing was called sitting inside her tumble dryer, which apparently is this particular cats' favourite place. Surely it's an accident waiting to happen? I despair.

Election day in the UK and I confess that my early antipathy has gone. I've watched quite a bit of the TV coverage with interest. I've finally decided who I am going to vote for and I'm comfortable with the reasons for my decision. All three leaders have impressed me and unimpressed me in fairly equal proportions and I'm not deciding because of the personality of any of them. Which is just as well really, because none of them are exactly shining wits. They could be accused I suppose of being shining whits. I look forward with unbated breath and not a little disinterest (antipathy is sure to return) to the next 5 years.

Spinning

2005-05-03T21:58:00.000Z

It's strange when things don't feel like they're working very well despite your best efforts. Dig deeper you say with conviction to yourself, and then wonder how deep you need to go, or even how much depth you have left.

There is the feeling of a hungry, skittish antelope. The faintest whiff in the air of something nearby that could be dangerous. Fatal even. But there's no definite proof and hunger overrides caution. So you keep eating, eyes peeled, ears pricked, nose twitching. Quickly, quickly.

Update Update

2005-04-24T21:09:00.000Z

Well, weve had pretty good news, relatively speaking on the G front. MRI is clear which really was the main concern. The EEG was less clear-cut, but that isnt a major problem. If some of her symptoms persist there is another route we can take but at the moment we are going to try an experiment in reducing some well know food and drink products that are known to induce headaches and migraines. G is being pretty good about this. The Doc basically gave her a choice, if any of these prove to be the cause of her headaches then its up to her to decide if she wants to put up with them and carry on eating/drinking chocolate/coke, or she can not consume them and have no headaches. G is old enough now to make her own decisions on this. What she CANT do, however, is carry on taking them and bitch like a fishwife about having headaches and expect to miss any more school. This is MY rule. To be fair, I dont envisage any battle lines being drawn on this.

The only bummer was that the Docs secretary was supposed to write to us to let us have the MRI was ok but weve never had the letter, so we suffered a bit not knowing. The fact that youve heard nothing sometimes tends towards one thinking the worst. At least it does for me. But then again I am a soppy sod sometimes.

Today (this bit was written on Friday) feels very summery. The boss and sales manager are both off. The weather is very nice indeed and work is busy enough to keep one busy without being too busy. I have no real plans for the weekend and I like that. Lately everything seems to have had a sense of urgency, and its felt like weve been lurching from one explosion to the next, putting out fires on the way just for them to start up somewhere else. A slow clock and a bit of sun will metaphorically take the foot of the gas a bit.

Today (Sunday) and tomorrow will have remembrance services for the allied soldiers (mostly from New Zealand and Australia) who lost their lives during the disastrous campaign at Gallipoli. I am always very moved during remembrance services, which in fact is why I usually avoid watching them. I sometimes well up when I see the old soldiers marching proudly with their medals, remembering fallen comrades. I often wonder if I would ever have not only their courage, but also their willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice for people they do not know and never will. The answer is I simply do not know. I grew up next door to a chap who fought in WW2. At the risk of sounding like Uncle Albert from Only Fools And Horses, his ship was hit and sunk when it's duty was to help guard supply convoys from America (I think). He is very matter-of-fact about this, and I feel sorry for him when he looks at the state of the country, for which he fought so bravely, with so much disappointment. I'm not necessarily agreeing with him, but I do think it's sad when he asks "I sometimes wondered why I bothered".

The weekend has been great. The kids all went to their Dad's for a party for their 1 year old step-brother. A cuter baby you will never, ever see. So me and C had most of Saturday and Sunday to ourselves which was really cool. And much needed. We spoiled ourselves by eating out at our favourite Italian restaurant on Saturday night. The seafood platter is to die for dahling.

I'm going to sign off now, as I want to enjoy what's left of the weekend with my very lovely Merlot/Sangiovese and a spot of channel surfing. Everyone's gone to bed. I've even unplugged the air pump for the goldfish for a little while because it makes a surprisingly loud, and therefore bloody annoying, buzz.

This Time Tomorrow

2005-04-20T22:28:00.000Z

I'm in a bit of a quandary. I watched Paxman interview the current Prime Minister, expecting him to rip the PM a new arsehole. Well blow me if Paxman didn't go in with all guns blazing and the PM steadfastly and eloquently stated his case. I haven't changed my mind on the war in Iraq, and neither it would appear has TB, but I admit I was impressed by his defence of the decisions he has taken.

The interview was a pretty decent 30 minutes of feint and parry, neither displaying much weakness. TB did falter slightly on the question of how many immigrants were currently in the U.K, but his reasons why he couldn't give a straight answer were fairly believable. I was particularly impressed towards the end, TB spoke quite passionately about what he has so far achieved and more importantly the work he still feels he needs to do. My inability to decide on whom I will vote was based, at least in part, on my dislike of the P.M. I confess that has changed a little. By comparison, Charles Kennedy has seemed a little ponderous, perhaps a little too nice to be convincing as a leader. Not that that will happen. He could hold a powerful hand in a more evenly balanced Parliament though.

I'm looking forward to the Michael Howard interview. He has almost no chance of winning my vote, out of principle more than anything else, however he's a good political performer, if a little smarmy. Paxman has famously put him to the sword once before, almost ending his political career, so a return bout should be very entertaining.

By the way, I was bitterly disappointed to hear Billy Bragg endorsing tactical voting on BBC news this morning as a device for curtailing Tory victories in marginal constituencies. The "left" (he being a prominent member in the 1980's) were quick to decry it's use when results went against them. Vote for who you want to vote for. For the candidate who's party you think has the right policies. If you're a Labour supporter, vote for them. Ditto the others. Don't vote for someone you dislike to try and prevent a victory for someone you dislike even more. That cheapens your opinion and your vote. I know I said yesterday that I was thinking of spoiling my ballot paper. That was said in jest, but even that would be better than deliberately voting for someone of whom you essentially disapprove. Even not voting would be better than that.

Where On Earth Is This Going?

2005-04-19T20:36:00.000Z

Driving back from dropping the childminder home, I pay attention to things I don't usually pay attention to. Firstly, the car is bloody noisy. Not in a going-to-go-wrong-imminently way, just in a poorly-designed-but-considered-good-enough-for-the-poor-people kind of way. Secondly, and I presume this isn't a constant otherwise I'm sure I would have noticed before, I get a whiff of chocolate. There isn't any in the car and I wasn't thinking about it. I get one or two more whiffs before I'm home. This is bad, but in a good way. I also notice something obvious. The place where I live is surrounded by fields, and at this time of year they are very pretty. Even the farmer's fields have a kind of manicured peacefulness about them. Although it's quite chilly outside, I open the window a little and take a few deep breaths as I'm driving along.

I would love to get paid to write. I know full well I'm nowhere near good enough to do it for a living, and I wouldn't even know what to write about or who for. I wouldn't be able to find the time anyway. Although I've been adding stuff here less frequently recently, I kind of feel a bit of a need at the moment. This was never meant to be a confessional, and it's not going to start being one, nevertheless putting things in such a public place means I have to think quite carefully about what I say and that acts as a good meter sometimes. The discipline is useful and not just in the retelling of incidents or thoughts. I'm reticent about putting in writing a desire for more discipline in my life because that has all sorts of connotations.

The chaps with the necessary authority have elected a new Pope to lead the 1 billion Catholics across the world. It appears that he seems to follow similar thoughts on doctrine as JP II, in fact I understand he was the previous fellows' right-hand-man. Other than the main guy upstairs of course. He seems like a nice enough guy but I'm worried about his conservatism. Growing up in Hitlers' Germany, enlisting in the Hitler Youth and then being conscripted into the German Army near the wars' end will certainly give you historical perspective, but somehow I just can't see him encouraging the use of condoms to prevent the spread of AIDS in Africa (or anywhere else), or encouraging women priests, or relaxing the church stance on homosexuality. I suppose there's a case for continuity, but surely not at the expense of progress.

G has had her MRI and EEG scans now and Thursday is D-Day for the results. I'm nervous, edgy, uptight, worried, tired, blah fucking blah. You get the picture. I wish it was Friday a lot more than I usually do. Which is a lot.

The election gets more dull by the microsecond. I'm a disenchanted, disillusioned, semi-socialist, hippy wannabe. I don't appear to have a serious voting option so I might put in a spoiled ballot paper as a protest. I just need to find something to protest about. THAT shouldn't be difficult.

The White Stripes new single is out. Still haven't heard it though. Damn. Still, the anticipation is great.

Aren't We Clever

2005-04-14T21:29:00.000Z

Just like Sky's "playercam".

There are a million other examples.

We have a technology available to us that we simply do not know what do to with. So we do silly things with it.

Here.

Ding Ding, Round One

2005-04-12T21:18:00.000Z

Well so far, especially today, the dragon is winning.

I am already becoming apathetic about the forthcoming election. The bullshit and lies are the only talking points. "News" items are only the day's recycled statements from politicians who will do WHATEVER they think it will take to get elected. As a non-Tory, I am actually quite worried about Michael Howard, because as much as I despise what he claims to stand for, he's actually a very good political performer. Lets face it, performance over policy got Blair elected in 1997 didn't it? Has TB met his match? Maybe.

Is it just me, or is there a general depression tagged on to everything at the moment? I can't really be specific, it just seems that everything is tainted with cynicism and mistrust. I can't help but get the feeling that something BIG is coming. I don't know what, and I don't mean some kind of apocalyptic event, but humanity seems to be on a downward spiral. I'm not a particularly religious person, a believer-as-long-as-it's-not-an-inconvenience kinda guy, but the Book of Revelations makes some interesting reading at the moment.

This evening was surprisingly pleasant. I haven't really helped the kids too much with their homework lately (firstly, they've only just returned from the Easter break and secondly I don't know when they do their homework normally because I never actually see them do any. I do know that it's almost never handed in late and it's always of a standard that is, at least, acceptable, if not better). Anyway, it was nice to be able to offer some assistance. Lately relations between kids and adults have been more like kids vs adults. It's entirely debatable who wins these encounters. I like to thing we are occasionally victorious, but in my heart of hearts I know better.

Alanis Morissette once wrote that rain on your wedding day was ironic, that a free ride after you had forked out was ironic, that meeting the man of her dreams then his beautiful wife was ironic. Although why the wife would need to be beautiful escapes me.

It seems to me that she's just unlucky. It seems to me that if she had problems pronouncing the word "articulate", that would be ironic.

The Dragon Stirs

2005-04-10T22:13:00.000Z

It's late, Sunday evening. The working week stands before me like the Dragon before St. George. I imagine my thoughts are along the same lines as his. Fuck.

Of course, the outcome will be fairly similar. The Dragon will be slain, although I doubt I will be made a patron saint for enduring another working week. Nor should I.

The weekend wasn't great. Saturday was cold, and the atmosphere in the house, especially today, was markedly colder. Mother and oldest daughter are not seeing eye to eye and a major row ensued. Major by our standards anyway. She, stepdaughter that is, also got asked out on the phone this evening for the first time. Well, that's not strictly true, she's been asked out before, but I think it was the first time she's been asked out by phone. It's all quite sweet really. It's just a shame for her that the young chap is, in her words, a "minger".

Oh well. The path of true love and all that.....

I start a course at work tomorrow, and for the life of me I can't remember why I signed up for it or what the course is for. I assume it's work related. I'll keep you posted if I keep up the work. Which I doubt I will.

I was going to write an entry full of metaphors tonight. But I'll save it for a later date because I haven't got anything interesting to say, and therefore no metaphors to try and say it with.

Good luck to Chaz and Milly. I have no affection whatsoever for the Royal Family, but two people who should have married over 30 years ago and didn't because of, shall we say, circumstances, are now together. Who says romance is dead. It's a bit of a shame that Chaz is rapidly becoming more of a miserable fucker than his father, especially as one day if things go according to plan he'll be the king of this island.

Long live the republic, if that particular train ever gets over the broken points and the leaves on the line to limp heaving and stinking like a whore into the station.

Welcome Chilly Chilblains

2005-04-05T21:44:00.000Z

In north London there is a pub. It is a classic example of the smokey, dingy, old style, north London Irish pub. That is to say it smells slightly peculiar, it's not particularly clean, the Guinness is great, there is a lock on the mens loo to stop people getting IN to use the facilities(!) When it last had a fresh lick of paint, the "white" was actually light beige, which I think is to ensure that the smoke stains are slightly less pronounced. It's near Arsenal football club, and on non-match days if you go in you'll see the pissed up Paddy's being propped up at the bar (and, indeed, BY the bar) and the old black fellas sitting at the tables playing dominoes. This pub exists, I'm not relaying a tired cliche.

One of the things I really like about this pub is the footrail that runs around the entire bar (which is roughly circular). It's heated. In winter you wouldn't believe the scrum to get a place at the bar when there is a cold snap because of this wonderful addition to the pub's features.

On match days everything makes way for the football fans. Not out of the fear of trouble, but simply because of it's proximity to the ground and the tube/rail station. It's not a classic "home" pub. In the 15 years or so I've frequented this pub (match days and non-match days) I have drank alongide, and often with, fans from Germany, Denmark, Turkey, Greece, Spain, France, Italy, Sweden, Holland and Scotland (not Rangers fans). Fans from Newcastle, Sunderland, Southampton, Stoke, Ipswich, Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester (but not United), mix drinks and chat with the Arsenal fans. I couldn't even begin to count the number of times I've drank inside and outside (when the weather permitted) this pub. There have been many occasions where voices were raised in song, triumph or misery, but I have never, NEVER, heard a voice raised in anger.

Clumped Together And Deep But Not Always Deep

2005-04-04T22:01:00.000Z

Digging up bluebell bulbs is more satisfying than it really should be. Even when there are lots of them, the novelty doesn't wear off. Neither does the aching in my leg muscles until 2 days after.

My hedge is too big. That is not a euphemism.

Littleist step daughter is starting to write a diary. So far, yesterday she got up and got dressed, before a day out at the seaside. There was more written about the getting up and getting dressed than there was about the day at the seaside. That says something, but I can't put my finger on what.

Are spammers getting cleverer? We don't get offered Rolex's and Viagra any more. It's software and books on enhanced sexual performance.

I'm starting to think someone's watching me............

Doing OK In A Roundabout Way

2005-03-31T21:09:00.000Z

The industry in which I am employed is currently fairly lean. The company in which I'm employed is actually doing very well, despite the fact that there are other sections of the industry, software and networking for example, that seem to be where the real action (and money) is. I can't help but admire the boss. He's the first to admit that the industry has changed out of all recognition since the company started over 20 years ago. He's out of touch technically but the people with whom he has surrounded himself are not. In fact, he pays them not to be and I think that's his secret. He has an exact idea what he wants his company to be and where he wants it to go. Vision, see. Can't beat it. You have to look, and you have to see. But you also have to know what to look for.

In other news, G's EEG and MRI tests draw near. I confess to some trepidation, but I also can't wait for them to be completed so we can hopefully come to some conclusion about the next course of action. Limbo at best is boring, at worst it's downright tiring. I don't imagine we will know all the answers but a general pointer in the direction we need to go would be nice. When I say nice I mean, of course, useful. I know G is worried about the next few weeks. She's proved pretty resilient up to now, but tonight during a teary hour, her and I had a long chat about what's going on. She's gone to bed a lot happier now but I guess we'll have to keep an eye her until the results are known. A sleepover at a friends house tomorrow night is just what the doctor ordered. Luckily, that's exactly what she will be doing.

My Jordan's Raisin and Hazelnut chewy bar has a warning which confirms the presence of nuts. I'm relieved that there are nuts in it. It also doesn't guarantee not to contain seeds. I have never heard of problems with seeds in food, but as there is a warning I presume there must be. I expect in the future there will be warning about other possible inclusions that we may not care for. As the Jordan's T.V. adverts are quick to point out how healthy and full of natural products their bars are, I expect they will one day carry warnings saying their bars contain traces of manure and pesticides.

On the other hand, there are probably legal loopholes that would allow them not to identify stuff that doesn't sound particularly appetising. After all it doesn't say "engine degreasant" on the side of toothpaste tubes does it?

Sarcur end thorns

2005-03-30T22:01:00.000Z

The dahlings at work have decided to restart evening football once a week. No thanks. My knee’s still gammy from last time.

I’ve just has a re-listen to Kosheen’s first album “Resist”. It’s very good. I don’t really like drum and bass, and the album has a definite influence, but it’s not overly, mmm, overt, and on occasions I think the singer sounds a little like Sade. Which is a good thing, non?

There is a plant and it looks like the bastard love child of an unholy dalliance between a bramble and an ivy. It also looks like a dead plant but it isn’t. It’s very much alive and the thorns are sharper than a New York comedian. I don’t know what it’s called nor do I want to know. I DO know that they have a secret device within them that seeks out the tender skin around and underneath fingernails.

Typing is a little painful today.

I've never really liked Jamie Oliver (see, I can be quite topical when I feel like it). Nothing he's done in the last week or two has really made me change my mind, but I'm glad he's shown the government up to be the totally useless fuckwits they've always been. If only he hadn't done those rotten Sainsbury's adverts. Especially the one where he "travels" the world tasting "fine" wines. Tosser.

Change is afoot. I can hear it coming, like the fall of a truncheon, and I can smell it's breath.

Wotcha

2005-03-28T22:05:00.000Z

Blimey. Hello. Long time no waffle. How are you?

It seems a long time since I was here, and indeed it has been, relatively speaking. I sort of lost the habit I suppose and also decided a few early nights were called for.

Quick round up then. Bank holiday weekend. Monday spent doing some gardening, washing the car, eating and sleeping. Sunday spent at a very chilly Thorpe Park. I don't really know how we can afford it to be honest. It really was very expensive, but we had a good time and I avoided the twirly-whirly rides that always make we want to throw up and stuck instead to the roller coasters. I bloody LOVE roller coasters, always have. There are two very good ones at Thorpe Park. Colossus proudly boasts that it was the worlds' first 10 loop ride. That may or may not be true, I don't care, but it is good. Unfortunately it broke down twice, in fact both times just as we were about to board the cars which was pretty annoying. I also noticed while queuing that the displays are run on Windows XP. Except they weren't running because of an insufficiency of virtual memory and did they want to inform Microsoft? I have photographic evidence of this on my phone. I just HAD to take a pic. Food was horrendously expensive, with Burger King quality of produce and service (because they were, in fact, Burger King). It was pretty cold too. This sounds like we didn't enjoy ourselves but we did. I even enjoyed the drive down because I enjoy driving but these days I don't get to go very far.

The car was playing up recently. The water pump was knackered by a poorly replaced timing chain (I think). It cost more than I needed (the day before pay day, of course). Never mind.

On Thursday I saw Razorlight at Ally Pally. A completely brilliant gig. The whole evening went swimmingly, starting with the taxi ride from Finsbury Park (after a few beers in my "football" pub) when the driver played Redemption Song and Three Little Birds very loudly, to which we sang drunkenly and very loudly. After the gig (and the swift purchase of a post-gig jumper because I lost the one I had and my tee-shirt was dripping in sweat), we found a pub and a few more beers and a offered the other customers a diabolical karoake rendition of "Parklife", we made our way home. Got there at three o'clock the following morning with aches and pains and chronic heartburn. Now THAT'S the sign of a good night.

I had a phone call last night from a mate I haven't seen or heard from for ages. It was great to chat for a while and catch up with what's happening in his world. He's had a tough year so far, but with a bit of luck things will turn themselves around pretty quickly.

I just watched the BBC program called, I think, Comic Connections. Tonight it was about Not The Nine O'Clock News. I absolutely loved it when it was on, over twenty years ago, and I had forgotten how much I was in love with Pamela Stevenson. Total and utter adolescent adoration. I don't feel guilty any more, but I did blush briefly. Luckily everyone else has gone to bed. I remember an interview with her on another program when she defended herself from a female member of the audience for appearing in "Stand Up Virgin Soldiers", but at the time I was grateful she was in it. Especially the bit when..............no, never mind.

Teenage gratitude is rare, but deeply meant when offered.

What A Niff

2005-03-18T22:41:00.000Z

I love Tuna.

Tuna steaks, tuna salad, tuna sandwiches. All groovy.

Tinned tuna in brine or oil. Yum.

However I dont like tuna when its in the salad I bring to work for lunch in a Tupperware tub.

Which leaks.

Which leaks tuna infused vegetable oil all over my mobile phone and wallet.

Moving swiftly on..................

2005-03-17T22:53:00.000Z

My last entry was shamefully self pitying. I have no excuses. A quick update on G. Doc during today's visit is concerned about the number of headaches and severity. The symptoms behind the eyes have increased his concern and an urgent MRI is scheduled, to go with the urgent EEG which is already scheduled. In the meantime we are restricting certain things that may exacerbate the situation in the hope it helps. PC use, X Box use, chocolate, fizzy drinks and cheese (don't shudder Tom) are now restricted. Breath is bated and tenterhooks are imposed upon.

Perspective is indeed a wonderful thing. I sauntered through work today, not caring. I worked hard, as most days (though not all) and if it wasn't enough, then bollocks to it. Life really IS too short. The missus has decided the new job she was going to take is not quite what she had been told it was going to be and her previous employer has welcomed her back with arms so open his hands virtually met round the back.

The world will turn again, and tomorrow will be different.

Right? Left? Straight On? Dead End.

2005-03-15T23:11:00.000Z

My last entry was called The Eyes, The Eyes.

I feel sick to my guts as I write this. I may have mentioned in an earlier offering that G has lately has some strange visual "episodes". This has led to an appointment with the Doc at the hospital. He has made some observations that he's not completely happy with and wants to see her again in three months. This delay reassures me, rightly or wrongly only time will tell, that he is not seriously concerned at the moment but wants merely to keep an eye on things. No pun intended.

These symptoms may be epilepsy related, they may not. I have spent some of this evening Googling various wide ranging questions and none of the answers are particularly reassuring. I appreciate that I may be worrying myself for no reason. I certainly hope so. But I prefer to be forewarned. Most of her symptoms could be caused by a variety of fairly innocuous things. A few not so innocuous.

This all feels like a maze at the moment, and I've never liked mazes. I'm tired of speculating, surmising, guesswork. It's all crashed in on me a bit today and I'm feeling very weary. I know it sounds childish, but I wish this would all just go away.

The eyes, the eyes.

2005-03-15T00:10:00.000Z

There is a kids virus called "Slap Cheek". I've never heard of it. Not true. I have heard of it now. We believe littleist one has it. It's not dangerous or uncomfortable, despite it's rather alarming name. It is contagious. Her face is slightly puffy and red around the eyes. She has a very mild rash. It's similar to an allergic reaction one might have following a change of soap powder.

Nothing with kids is ever, ever straightforward is it? I'm sure I never caused my parents all this bloody worry.

Mind you, there are plenty of things they don't know about.

Nor will they ever..............I hope. Gulp.

Looking up

2005-03-12T00:10:00.000Z

A slow and bad week ended well. The boss was not at work. It was RND so a small contribution enabled me to wear non-work clothing. Although thinking about it, the clothing regulations at work are pretty relaxed anyway, so it didn't really make too much difference. Except my socks definitely smell worse when I've been wearing trainers all day instead of shoes.

The next person up in the chain of command has just, it would appear, sold his house. This is very good news indeed. Financially he has been struggling for quite a while, and although he will be falling off the property ladder he will have one less millstone around his neck.

The missus just got a new job. One that she REALLY wanted. So that was good too. I suppose the only downer today was the fact that I wanted Cherryade or Cream Soda with my chicken and chips (a leftover from a trip down memory lane) but the shop only had Coke or Lemonade. Although I drink neither, if that's the only bad thing that happened to me today, things can't be all that bad can they?

I've been wondering for the last few days whether to keep going with this journal. I was contemplating a journal on a specific subject, but apart from Arsenal and U2 (both of which have a ridiculous amount of interweb waffle about them already) I don't really know enough about anything else to write a continuous blog. Mind you, if I stop writing here I might have to offload in a different way. God, I might have to talk to someone. Yeuk. A conversation. With a human. No thanks, no way. Uh huh. Not on ones Nelly. Take that thought and stick it in the NON-recyclable bin. Blog on Mr M. For now at least.

Blog Of Sighs

2005-03-09T22:10:00.000Z

Today was, quite frankly, shit. Shitty, shit, shit. I had a day off yesterday so today felt like another Monday. Two fucking Mondays in one week.

Sometimes "shit" sounds better than "fuck", although "fuck" is clearly the better swearword.

I apologise for this dreadful language.

Running around all day for seemingly ungrateful human beings is more than annoying. I'm feeling angry, resentful, tired and unimportant. Like the dog probably feels. Sigh.

Certain individuals at work appear not to give two fucks about their job, or to be more accurate, about their inability to do their job correctly. Or can't be bothered to do their job correctly. Or even deliberately doing it incorrectly because that's easier, knowing that nothing will really get done about it. Sigh. The really annoying thing is that I'm becoming resigned to it. I am deliberately not doing some of the things I should be doing because I know it will be more hassle than it's worth. Sigh.

Arsenal were knocked out of the Champions League by a team we are good enough to beat. Again. Sigh.

Got my credit card statement through today. Sigh. Don't even dare to look at my bank balance.

Stepson grounded again for being too lazy to do his job, and openly lying about it despite all the visual evidence to the contrary. Then deliberately underplaying the turn of events to his Mum to try and make me look like the bad guy. Sigh.

Had my first cream egg of the year today. I always forget how nice they are. I usually prefer chocolate cold, straight from the fridge, but not cream eggs. The chocolate is too thick and it breaks into quite sharp edges when you bite into it if it's cold.

The Kaiser Chiefs album ("Employment") is bloody good. Bloody bloody good. Better than it should be. Buy it, you won't regret it. Unless you don't like it of course, then you probably will regret it.

The rest of the week at work promises to be negatively eventful. I'm looking forward to the weekend more than usual and more than I should.

Thanks to the codgers

2005-03-07T22:04:00.000Z

Tonight is a wee bit forced. No particular reason for adding an entry, just doing it for the practise.

Littleist step daughter lately seems to have a good eye for a photo. She's taken quite a few lately with her mum's phone camera and they are surprisingly decent. She's not in your class yet Flipper, but watch out.

The Lords have rejected the governments proposals for it's anti-terror bill. I am not a fan of an unelected second chamber in government (even if they have no power of veto as many people believe), but I'm grateful that they're there today I can tell you. I stated in a much earlier post that I thought Charles Clarke was a proper bolshy git and I stand by that statement. His pathetic attempt on last Friday's "Question Time" to justify the dictatorial measures he is trying to introduce was nothing short of nauseating. Having politicians making final decisions on matters of law and personal freedom is just too frightening for words. I'm not naive enough to think that political influence is never brought to bear in certain judicial matters, but ramming through legislation to suit an electoral timetable is deeply disturbing.

I'm also suspicious about the timing of the statement by former Metropolitan Police chief Sir John Stevens, who stated that there were as many as 200 al-Qaeda terrorists at large in the U.K. I wonder where he got that figure from and how long he's stayed quiet about it. If he's a "former" police chief, why is he being given this information?

Don't go to Alabama if you want to spice up your sex life with "toys".

What A Waste

2005-03-06T21:19:00.000Z

Yesterday's effort is best forgotten. I'm so sorry.

Doom, gloom past empty rooms.

2005-03-05T22:52:00.000Z

During the long, long hours of an XP SP2 reinstall, I did some thinking about some quite serious stuff.

It's all unresearched, and is probably bollocks, but nevertheless these are the lonely ghosts that wander the vacant corridors of my mind.

I was thinking about Africa to start with. Nothing too specific but I've seen a few news items recently, some linked with RND 05, that made me ponder. To start with, we always talk about the "problems" of "Africa". Well what exactly is Africa? The media seem to treat it as one giant thing. It seems we think of it either as desert or jungle. I don't know how many people live in Africa, or even how many countries there are, but it all seems to get lumped together. One would assume the problems of Nigeria are different than that of Zimbabwe. If we believed TV images, then every male child is given a gun to kill people with, every female is a rape victim and everyone has AIDS. I'm not belittling anything by saying this, but perhaps we ought to think about our stereotypes more. Me included, I'm not casting stones here.

The U.K. has the world's 4th largest economy. That is soon to change, as China is growing. I was thinking about how this might affect things here. For a start, I think there will inevitably be a United States Of Europe. I'm not unhappy about this. And I think for Britain to maintain it's influence in the world it will need to play a full part in this USE. For a country of it's size Britain has punched above it's weight for a long time. That can't possibly continue. So I see 3 major economic powerhouses; The USE, China and the USA. Although South America has the resources and the potential I think it's even more fragmented than Europe.

Now, three's a crowd. By the time Europe finally gets it's act together China and the USA will be best buddies (economic ties between the two are already huge, and America would be in even deeper economic trouble without China). So Europe will be the young pup at the party. Europe of course has traditional and historic ties with "old colonies", so that's where the exploitable workforce will come. China has the same, America does not. At some point, there will be economic tensions. Europe's relationship with America is often tetchy and I don't imagine anything changing there. China, I think, would be more pre-disposed to siding with the USA because it will have more common interests. Of course all 3 are also nuclear powers. Any conflict I think would lead to a 2 vs 1 scenario (unlike Orwells balance of 3 equal powers). Any 2 vs 1 means 1 loses, with or without the use of nuclear weapons.

So in another global conflict, I reckon Europe's fucked.

I have deliberately left out mentioning current middle east tensions because I honestly believe that in the global scheme of things, the leaders of what I have established as the "big 3" don't reckon the middle east is worth spending any serious time or money on because, basically, the countries and peoples are too poor to be worth the effort.

This is what I think when installing SP2. M$ has a lot to answer for.

On a lighter note, I had to do the reinstall coz I fucked the PC good. Real good. I sodomised the registry the hell. Tee-hee. It was worth it.

I mentioned earlier about these thoughts wandering around "upstairs" as it were. Now I've blown them down my nasal cavity into the tissue of a blog, I hope they go away.

Which is what I'm now going to do.

Ho hum, bloody hell.

2005-03-02T21:00:00.000Z

I am here. Actually I believe I exist in at least 3 dimensions, so I suppose I should say I'm here, here and here.

Bill Gates is getting a KBE. Honestly, they'll let anyone in these days won't they. It's for his charity work.

Stepson and stepdad are NOT getting on. Not getting on at all. Life for the next few days promises to be tense. Lots of eggshells will be stepped on. And that's if things go well. I won't bore anyone with details.

I read in a well known book, a question:

Is quality held in the object or in the observer?

Give me heat and no ice patches on the road please

2005-02-28T10:49:00.000Z

Every heating engineer who's ever looked at our boiler has said "These are usually good boilers".

You may gather we have had some boiler problems in the past. And, it is true to say, the present.

It's very cold outside and the damn thing is on the blink yet again. Same old complaint, not working. I can't be more specific other than to say it's usually the PCB or the fan. Apparently. The emergency engineer came out yesterday to replace the fan and it worked fine after he left. Of course it did.

At 5.30am this morning when it was due to work fine again, it didn't. Of course it didn't.

So another Monday morning starts. I need to remove some of the trim on the kitchen cupboards to allow full access to the boiler. (I rather cleverly, I thought, boxed it in behind a cupboard door to hide it when I built the kitchen). The house is cold and the girls are in their usual Monday morning moods. After hell has broken loose and we eventually get it back under control the boss rings to say he has a migraine and won't be in to work. This day is just gonna get better and better. I have phoned the emergency heating people and they will tell me when they in the vicinity so I can get home to let them in. I now have to explain to the big boss that one of his sales guys is off, and the other one is going to disappear at a moments notice and doesn't know when he'll be back. Deep joy.

Update: it got worse before it got better. Some of the boss's work had an 11.00am deadline. What kind of sadist sets a deadline for the return "important" work of Monday morning? As he's not there I need to do it and just as I start the phone goes and it's the heating engineer. Lots of phone calls, lots of running around, lots of very quick conversations with people who don't know what's going on, but bloody should, and it gets sorted. Rush out to meet the engineer who does his thing, replacing the PCB AND the fan (whaaa hooo!). Back to work. It's not even lunch time yet.

Can't help feeling the boiler problem is not really fixed though. Time, as it does, will tell.

Hardly Bottle Of Smoke

2005-02-28T00:05:00.000Z

One-One was a racehorse
Two-Two was one too
One-One won one race
Two-Two won one too

He's Right You Know. He Really is.

2005-02-25T22:46:00.000Z

Hear hear. Here.

I'm going to write some more crap. Up to typing the word "crap" I still don't know what about though.

My girlfriend likes "Judge Judy". I can't really add to that, so that's a brick wall.

Err, work today was.............no don't bother with that either.

I changed a car tyre at 7.33am on Wednesday morning. Stepson informed me at 7.27am that it was flat as he was heading off to school. At 7.27am I was thinking he better have a damn good reason for denying me 3 minutes of cosy-dozy. He did, so his body parts are all still attached and fully functioning. I've never really thought of the word "fully" as being a matter of perspective, but I guess it is.

That evening, having dropped the bastard tyre in to the garage at lunch time to have the bastard screw that caused the bastard flat removed, the tare had to go back on. Because the spare, having just passed the MOT, is balder than me. Those who know me know how bald that is. Very. The surface is smooth. It's smoother than a pint of Guinness being poured by Bryan Ferry while he listens to a Tony Bennett recording.

Anyway, it was dark and wet when I put the tare back on. The car was propped up by the jack which I think is the wrong jack. On the drive outside the front of the house. The soft part of the drive. It was slowly sinking, and rocking, and probably quite dangerous now that I think about it. Anyway the bastard tare with the fixed bastard hole seems to be working. That is to say, it goes round and round when I drive, which is all I ask of it. Oh, and the air stays in, so far at least.

My Calvet Reserve is very nice. I really like Bordeaux wines.

This really is all over the place tonight isn't it? I quite like that. Spontaneous. Unfocussed. I've called these rambles "rambles" on a few occasions and this particular ramble is really rambling.

I need to get hold of a good book to read, and then find the time to read it. I'm leaning towards some kind of biography but I have no particular subject in mind. And I don't usually read biogs. I always feel that there's an agenda. Someone writing it for self interest rather than reader interest. Call me cynical.

Death In Vegas are worth a listen. They've been around long enough to get a "best of" or "greatest hits" released (called "Milk It" which made me laugh).

I'm going to go now. I wrote more than I thought I would and it's enough.

Not Really What We Wanted

2005-02-24T21:58:00.000Z

G's hospital appointment wasn't as fruitful as I'd hoped. She's not back on medication because that would mean a minimum 2 year course and the doc didn't feel there was enough compelling evidence to embark on that. Which was nice.

No explanations for the headaches then, or the "absence", if it really was one. However we did find something not 100% ok with one of her retinas. Doc says there's nothing to worry about, and I have no reason to doubt him, particularly when he referred his thoughts to the eye doc (surely iDoc? Apple could probably use that, I might patent it) and he was more than happy to wait a couple of weeks until G has an up to date EEG and he'll see her then.

Feels like limbo a bit; much relief, some worry. As always.

On a lighter note, the Kaiser Chiefs (the band, not the South African football team) go from strength to strength. I wonder if Bloc Party or The Others object to people copying their CD's ? Not that I have. I'm just curious how far their politics go.

Free Mojtaba and Arash

2005-02-22T22:37:00.000Z

The freedom of speech is indeed a sacred thing. It is as much a human right as breathing.

It is not to be abused by anyone.
It is not to be denied to anyone.
It is not to be bestowed for favours.
It is not to be removed for convenience.

If you do not like what I have to say, say so. Tell me why I am wrong. Call me names if you want. But don't try and stop me from saying what I want to say.

If I have an opinion, then I have the right to express that opinion.

Free Mojtaba and Arash. Now.

Made You Look, Made You Stare, Made You Think "You Total Prat"

2005-02-21T22:47:00.000Z

Some people who read what I last wrote didn't get it, I think.

Just bought "Want One" by Rufus Wainwright. He's got a great voice and he writes some really astute, quirky lyrics. His arrangements are really quite exotic sometimes and some of the harmonies are amazing. A bit like The Beach Boys crossed with Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Actually, nothing like that. Forget I said that. I am, as they say, talking bollocks. It's more like The Beach Boys mixed with Queen.

Speaking of talking bollocks. A funny thing happened to me on my way here tonight. No it didn't, you're making it up.

I once wrote, I think, that blogging is like tossing. Or words to that effect. It's also quite like vomiting after a lot of beer. Sort of horrible at the time, and it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, but afterwards you feel quite a bit better.

I don't always write what I should write. I like saying "I write". It makes me sound important. Hey you, pleb, I write.

What was I saying, I mean writing. Oh yes, I don't always write what I should. And when I do I often miss bits out, although I say with utter sincerity that I don't add bits just for effect. Nope, I add them because I can. Grrrrr, feel the POWERRRRRR. Drunk with it, I am.

Now then, the weekend was ok-ish. The footie on Saturday was not good. Too early, too cold, too poor a standard, too much silly refereeing, too close to the wanker sitting a couple of rows back who verbally abused the other team's manager for 90 minutes (although he would have had no way whatsoever of hearing the language hurled at him by a very sorry individual). Oh, and nowhere near enough Guinness beforehand. Apart from that it was fine.

A hot bath when I got home thawed me out lots. Couldn't really go out anywhere, I couldn't drive (had a beer, see) and the MOT on the car ran out a little while ago (oops). Of course "a little while ago" depends entirely on ones perpective. If we compare it to, say, the timescale from knuckle dragging to homo erectus (titter) then it wasn't very long at all.

I feel so puerile. Like a Benny Hill sketch.

I always thought it a wee bit corny to finish a blog with a line, however clever, from something once read. I know I did it last time (Portia: The Merchant Of Venice) and I want to do it again tonight.

But I won't.

Thought To Close A Bad Week

2005-02-18T23:39:00.000Z

My girlfriend sometimes shares a train journey home from work with a born again Christian, and I understand she (the BAC) is usually pretty ready to talk about her beliefs, other faiths, Jesus etc.

She recently asked my girlfriend if she was a believer, and she's not. Not in the traditional sense anyway, if there is such a thing. My girlfriend told her that G, her eldest daughter, was her "God". The reason for this is that G, as I recently wrote, has epilepsy. She has also had severe bouts of asthma, eczema, allergies and other stuff, some or all of which, we are lead indirectly to believe, maybe due to G being a premature baby. A doctor has never stated this as fact, but when G needs a doctor or hospital visit for whatever reason, (and there have been a few in the 5 or so years I've known her) we are ALWAYS asked if she was a "prem baby". She really was HUGELY premature, and she "died" twice during her early fight for life.

Knowingly or unknowlingly, G has had to draw on some truly astonishing reserves of strength to get as far as she's got, and that's why she's her mother's God.

I Meant What I Said When I Said What I Said

2005-02-17T22:30:00.000Z

Hindsight, they say, is wonderful thing. I like deers, but I'm not sure why the sight of a female red one is so terrific.

With the benefit of a good nights sleep and a better day at work, I'm not sure I should have written what I wrote yesterday. I meant it, but I'm not sure if I still mean it. That isn't to say I won't mean it again. Experience tells me I will, and soon. A bookie wouldn't give you very good odds, put it that way.

After 8 Mile I watched Pollock, about, spookily, Jackson Pollock. A good film. Ed Harris plays the lead role and, I think, directs. Not overblown, and not deliberately understated either. I can't comment on the factuality (is that a word? factualness maybe?) of the events, but it was interesting.

Why do I feel the need to rabbit on about films all the time? Feckin' eejit.

I finished my lovely bottle of wine. Boo hoo. It really was a good one.

In a remarkable display of affection the table turned and kicked the cash to the end of the banana. Taking it's cue, rubbish eaten slowly divulged too much information running through my brain. The devil take your stereo (ha ha, Mada) while Eton soaks up the bleached truffles. The phone rings and the cups sing of the time before docks broke the smug bastards.

Tomorrow the boss, his boss and her boss are all off.

The quality of mercy is not strained....... It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

This has not been a good week

2005-02-16T21:37:00.000Z

I think I had my yearly appraisal yesterday. I think so. It wasn't particularly obvious.

The direction our company has taken in the past year or so has changed. We are larger, generally more professional, and better than most of our competitors. As a result, my role has changed. Now I do more buying as well as selling. It means I have to be careful who I quote and what I quote so that we aren't selling to competitors who may try to undercut us. As a result I often have to deliberately overquote, knowing I won't get any orders, or not even quote at all.

Bearing this in mind, and also bearing in mind that the way we execute the new roles we have been given, I was a bit taken aback, no, I was fucking stunned when I was asked why my sales figures have been so low. I won't go into a huge amount of detail about how the appraisal went, and I'm not going to say I have been set up, although that's how it feels. Suffice to say I'm going to start seriously looking for a new job. Enough is quite enough.

The kids are being awful, selfish, ungrateful, grumpy, lippy and spoilt. I hate them. I hate school holidays. The extra half hour I get in bed is nice, but not enough. I'm knackered. M doesn't know it yet, but he's bought his amp for nothing. Until he makes more of an effort he's not using either of my guitars. Lazy brat.

Just watched 8 Mile again. It's a really good film. It kind of reminds me in a way of Good Morning Vietnam. Everyone said that it was the role Robin Williams was born to play but I disagree. It was his role because it was just him being him. He wasn't really acting. That's why it was so convincing. The same with Eminem in 8 Mile. It's a story about him, played by him. He's not really acting.

Bored now, bye.

I've been in two minds..................

2005-02-14T22:37:00.000Z

..........about whether or not to write what I am about to write. But today's events have brought back into focus other events from a time I would rather forget, however impossible that will ever be.

Today we brought my eldest stepdaughter to see the doctor. She was diagnosed with epilepsy 4 years ago but has been medication free and seizure free, as far as we can tell, for over 2 years. There have been some recent events that have re-awakened the possibility that something might be going on inside her head that we don't want, but it's a case of wait and see at the moment, until further tests are carried out in the near future.

The events surrounding the discovery and diagnosis of her epilepsy are very painful and still very fresh. I'm not going to do into detail here, except to say that despite all the criticism levelled at the NHS generally, the care she has received has been fantastic, with one exception, when it transpired that she was taking a higher than recommended dose of a particularly noxious treatment because the consultant has miscalculated the milligrams required in relation to her size and weight. The side effects included extreme irritation, salt deficiency, other chemical imbalances and hair loss. Try explaining the last one to an eight year old girl. Anyway that was eventually remedied and no harm, in the long term, was done.

Being realistic, there was always the possibility that this could rear it's ugly head again. Knowing what to look for this time around will help, and if new medication is required, well, so be it. We know now what works and what doesn't and what to do in an emergency (because her seizures were so severe that any are immediately considered urgent).

I wrote a while ago that there is no such thing as useless knowledge. I believe that, but I wish there was some knowledge I wasn't required to know.

Roundup and red

2005-02-13T21:12:00.000Z

The weekend turned out to be busier than I thought it would on Friday evening. A heavy cold was settling in on yours truly and, for a change, non of the kids were visiting their Dad on Saturday or Sunday. Eldest stepdaughter spent most of Saturday at her friend's house and then stayed there for a sleepover. I panicked when the word "sleepover" was mentioned (see a previous entry if you feel the need) but the tension drained out of me smoothly and quickly when I realised it wasn't going to be here.

The dog is not in good shape. He's having an arthritic "episode" and looks every one of his 14+ years. The arthritis is in both hips although one is noticeably worse than the other. A chat and subsequent visit to the vets and he's now on medication which seems to be doing the trick. However regular medication will be the norm now and this makes me sad. It seems another milestone on the trip to the inevitable has been passed. This probably sounds overly morbid, but I have been thinking about when the time eventually comes. I will be able to cope with the kids being upset, and the missus. I'm not too worried about that. What concerns me is that I don't want him to be alone when it happens. Statistically, he will be. With our jobs and the kids at school he spends quite a lot of time on his own. I really hate the thought of that.

Anyway, enough of that. I'm pissing myself off.

It's Sunday evening and everyone has gone to bed, which is surprising as the kids have half term. Mornings actually get harder during half and full terms as I have to deliver them over to the childminder in time for me to get to work. A journey, I confess, which has led me to accumulate two speeding fines and 6 points on my licence in the last 4 months. I was going faster the second time too.

The Sangiovese I'm currently supping really is very good. I might have another.

The room is very quiet and the only real noise is the fan on the PC and the air pump on the fish tank. Aaahhhh...................enjoy it while you can Mr M, you know it doesn't last.

Deep red

2005-02-10T21:42:00.000Z

It is strange that we will watch a DVD over and over again, in it's entirety or in bits if time and lifestyle dictates, until we are utterly fed up with it, yet we MUST sit and watch the whole thing as soon as it is shown on T.V.

A work colleague today was reciting to me the major events of his last 18 months. They include the death of his wife's mother and grandmother, the near death of his own father, a brother's near death in a house fire and resultant temporary homelessness, the breakup of another brother's marriage and, less importantly, the small fortune he has needed to spend keeping his dog of a car on the road.

Not surprisingly, he has discovered the utter joy to be found in a decent bottle of vin rouge.

Slainthe, J.

Be careful, it could happen to you.....

2005-02-08T22:44:00.000Z

A while ago I retold a chat with my youngest step daughter about a very grown up activity. Although in the UK it seems to be becoming more of a thing that non-grownups do as well.

She got me into trouble once, and I haven't forgotten since to be careful what I say around da kidz.................

Her mother has retained the ability to this day to lift her leg high enough so that it goes over her head and her ankle hooks behind.

Steady boys.

Youngest step daughter (L) thought this was clever. So she decided she could do it. And she does. Being 6 helps. Being 6 also means she wants to show off. So she does the same trick with both legs. At the same time. We're all very impressed. I say something which I will regret. It was a joke. Just a joke. Honest. *Gulp*.

A little while later we are at my girlfriends brothers house for a family birthday. The whole, and I mean whole, of her immediate family are there. L wants to show everyone her new trick. So she does. She is in the front room lying on the floor, both ankles locked together behind her head, performing her little party piece to the enthusiastic praise of the most important people in her young and beautiful life.

Then a ghost walks in, uninvited and unexpected. The ghost of the comment I made. During the performance L pipes up "Matt says the boys are going to love me".

Comments, I now know, have the ability to silence a room in microseconds. They are like an atomic explosions, destroying everything in their path and leaving a vast vacuum behind. A vacuum which in this case was quickly back-filled by kids laughter. L's assembled siblings and cousins were in gales of laughter. For which I am eternally grateful.
(Except afterwards when I thought "How did they know what I meant?")

Did you know kids laughter is powerful enough to dispel the mushroom cloud of a grandmothers stare?

You do now.

Nippy, isn't she?

2005-02-07T22:31:00.000Z

Well done Ellen. I'm watching the news and you've just crossed the finish line. I can't imagine how tough it must be, or why on earth you feel the need to do it, but many many congratulations anyway.

Sia Furler has got an amazing voice.

Not a great deal to write about today. Work was busy, yet remained strangely uninteresting. I'm knackered already because of a poor nights sleep and there will be little opportunity to catch up during the week. Damn. Back to snoozing through Neighbours and Doctors during lunch. Tut, and the acting is soooo good too.

The boss's fractious relationship with his ex-wife turned into open telephone warfare today. Not good, the whole office can hear. He's not the type to pull any punches and apparently neither is she. Nuff said. They have a 5 year old son. Nuff said. I stare at the screen (he sits behind me) trying not to hear, counting my blessings. I'm embarrassed to hear it and I know I'm not the only one. I can even feel myself going red. A trip to the loo is needed but I can't get up and walk past him. That's way too obvious. There's a common metaphor of the ripple effect (you know, pebble thrown into a pond, ripples spreading outward, that kind of thing). That's what this feels like. It's a brute of a soundwave kicking me in the back of my neck. His kid is a great little fella too. Really funny. Dances like Ian Brown and can do a couple of Northern Soul spins I hear.

Fucking shame, really.

Fancy a quickie?

2005-02-06T21:05:00.000Z

Met up with the chaps for a beer last night. Eventually. The journey to the pub was far more traumatic than was necessary but that's for another day. I STILL got there before they did, however. Guinness and old mates is a good mix, but my head was pounding this morning (I was 3 beers up on you guys, Flipper, not 2). That's why I needed the loo so often.

Gotta go, Channel 4 are showing 100 best pop vids. Should be quite good.

Must remember to get a new mobile phone with video capture........................

Unplanned vomit

2005-02-02T22:14:00.000Z

Today's entry is off-the-cuff stuff.

Lately I've been adding links to this-and-that webpages, largely because I now know how. Recycling other peoples stuff basically. Those reading this may laugh at that, because it's really very easy. When you know how. When you don't know, like most things I suppose, it's not quite so straightforward. Since I started doing this blogging thing, I've learned a few things. I've added links to webpages, links to other sites in the template (and not just add, but add them in the place I actually wanted them) and stuck some pictures in. Small acorns. I've pretty much learned the things I need. My intention wasn't to learn those things per se, however there's really no such thing as useless knowledge. It's usefulness is usually only evident in the appropriate context.

I didn't start what I pompously call this "journal" (don't you think "journal" sounds so much more grandiose than "diary"? Mmmm Journal vs Diary; Daddy vs Chips; Skag v Methodone. I could go on. I really could.) Where was I? Oh yes, I remember. Journal. I didn't start this insubstantial nonsense to make social or political comment. It wasn't to right any wrongs, it wasn't to make any apologies or to brag about any successes.

So why then?

Ego. It has to be. Echobelly got it right. EGO. Everybody's Got One. (A really good album, by the way). Why am I assuming that any other person on this planet is even remotely interested in anything I have to say? This is nothing more than literary masturbation. Except you need two wrists (please, no comments about "blessed" men who "always need two wrists"). And I use the word "literary" only in the sense that words are involved. I have no pretentions of genuine writing ability. I also can't sing, I can't play guitar (three chord thrashes don't count as being able to play, although some of the greatest songs ever written where just that). I can't run very fast or very far, I can't paint, I can't play football very well. I'm rubbish at carpentry and worse at plumbing. Don't put me anywhere near a plug socket for sake of all things dear. I can't even drink beer the way I used to be able to, although that's not necessarily a bad thing. So you could say that my "life" (for want of a better word) is defined not only by the decisions I make, by providence, by consequence and by morality, but also by the things at which I have no talent. Everyone is good at something, so I'm told, but few of us are great at anything.

Now that's not necessarily a bad thing I reckon. Without mediocrity there would be no brilliance. Only one Mozart, but many Nick Kershaws. One Pele, many Vinnie Jones'. One Shakespeare but millions (and growing) Mr M's. Bloggers of the world unite. We're mostly crap, but so what? A literary wank is still a wank.

And anyone who says they don't enjoy that is a liar.

Catching Up

2005-01-31T22:08:00.000Z

This is worrying. Not just the fact that it cost a man his life, but:

The sonar was switched off. If on it MAY have been able to detect the underwater mountains. MAY. What else is a sonar supposed to do except "see" things in front of it? Satellite's can see the things from space, but the sub couldn't.

The ping was turned off because it's so loud it could give away the location of the sub. Bit of a design fault there I reckon.

Why was the sonar switched off when it was near(ish) Guam? Why was it's location secret?

Call me paranoid, but there's gotta be more to this than meets the eye.

Perhaps that nice Mr Gates will make a further hefty charitable donation. Lord knows Western governments won't unless there's something in it for them.

Tony Blair says the Iraqi elections were a success. So does Dubya. To coin a phrase, well they would, wouldnt they? The first step in getting troops out has taken place and bollocks to the consequences eh? Expect a year or two now of bullshit statements claiming victories, and jobs well done as Iraq descends even further into chaos. No doubt eventually the Iraqi army, poorly trained as it is, will be blamed for not being able to maintain the fragile "peace" that the coalition forces will have claimed to have created.

No shit. I hope they didn't spend a lot of money on this research. I'd have told them the same for the price of a pint and a pork pie.

There's an British artist called Fletcher Sibthorpe. I don't know too much about him but I think he's done some album art and other stuff. He's painted lots of dancers. I really like pictures of dancers. I like La Danza by Matisse. Anyway, Sibthorpe is really, really good. My favourite of his is called Hidden Faces. Check him out here.

On a lighter note, a friends friend, (non-English and not living in England), didnt get to work the other day because it was snowing hardly. A long, painful conversation ensued explaining the difference between snowing hard and hardly snowing.

Sorry, bit blurry.

2005-01-27T23:34:00.000Z

This made me laugh. Out loud. At work. I particularly liked the book title.

If ever there was a definition of needing to get out more, this is it. Who the hell "argues" about the depth of the Channel??

On the sleeve notes of his album "Copperhead Road", Steve Earle writes (paraphrased) "If you don't vote, don't bitch". I used to agree with him, but not any more. If the political system you live under becomes so insipid, so bland, so fucking crooked, like the one we have in the UK, then the decision not to vote, provided it's taken not through laziness but through conscience, is justified. If you like what politicians say but don't trust them to keep their promises, don't vote for them. They don't deserve it.

For a dose of perspective, take a read of this. Go back through the previous entries for a real rollercoaster. Good luck Ivan.

This is not a poem:

I keep my promises but you often betray me
My friends are imagination and education
I'm alive in all of you, especially the young
I can be fanciful and flighty, prosaic, high and mighty
My ability is boundless, but I am underused and often abused
I am all around and often ignored
I'm sometimes in losers, always in winners
I make saints and I make sinners
I am friendly but my ability is frightening
I can elevate and devastate and exhilarate and decimate

Twice in one day (oo-er)

2005-01-25T22:37:00.000Z

An update on my effort earlier today. A guest expert on Channel 4 news tonight was being questioned by Jon Snow on the impact of Bill Gates' charitable donation towards vaccines for children in third world countries. Snow asked if it was likely that tens of thousands of kids would be affected (for the good) by Gates' money. The guest looked somewhat surprised. Hundreds of thousands would be affected for the good was his reply.

Well done, Bill.

I have watched The Matrix Revolutions twice now. I have never read a review of any films in the trilogy, so none of the following diatribe is rehashed.

Laurence Fishburne is one of the finest actors of his generation. Keanu Reeves is not. In my uneducated opinion Reeves has ruined every scene he has been in, in every film he has been in. Because he CANNOT act. There is more acting ability running through my dogs arse than there is running through Keanu Reeves.

I do not read much sci-fi, however it seems to me that a plot whereby everything is run by machines/computers (secretly or not) is not very original, although I can't back that statement up with any statistics. I wrote a very crappy story like that for English homework when I was 11. So to me the whole Matrix thing is built on pretty weak foundations. Take away the special effects, which had been grossly overused by others long before the second and third films came out, and you have a cliche. The entire second film was built around the freeway scene, and as much as I rate him, Fishburne was 2 stone overweight to be able to carry off the karate thing on top of moving vehicles in a waistcoat. In all 3 films the dialogue is trite and Neo and Trinity's "romance" is predictably awful. There is more chemistry going on in a vacuum than there is between these two. The sound tracks have been instantly forgettable and Trinity's death scene in film 3 was about as believable as a Beckham affair denial.

Monica Bellucci looks nice in it though. (In a completely non-sexist, PC way of course).

Gibberish and grapes

2005-01-25T13:25:00.000Z

I’m really nervous about the Iraqi elections due this week. I honestly fear a blood bath.

I’m not a huge fan of Big Brother. But having Bez winning it has restored my faith in the British public. Lots. The man is quality. I wanted to dislike Kenzie out of principle, but he was very entertaining. All in all, Celeb BB 2005 was a good one.

I thought this was really good. Lets turn an industrial by-product that we’re using to choke our planet into really useful, usable plastics with nothing but orange peel and CO2. They didn’t teach us THAT on Blue Peter did they?

Who cares about the Oscars?

Good. Bastard.

I hate it when people I don’t like do good things.

Early morning, brain slow. First task at work easy. Sorting yesterdays PO’s into date order then numerical order (lowest to highest, obviously). Nice.

Is this really that important?? Can we not just have “very big” as a definite measurement??

The number of yawns I require in the morning seems to be directly proportional to the distance I am from the entrance to the building where I work. Strangely, the closer I am, the more yawns I need. Does this say something about my job?

A £10k prosecution for a £60 fine. The police mistook an apple for a mobile phone using footage taken from a police helicopter. Honestly, Apple just can’t stay out of the news can they? (ha ha). Perhaps supermarkets should sell fresh fruit with a “do not use while driving or operating machinery” warning. Perhaps that’s why seedless grapes were invented. So you don’t have to play around with them in awkward situations. Are they genetically modified? I’ve never really thought about that before. Tom, help. I know you’ll know. If not, how are they made? I know Tom will know that too. Tom’s great. Flipper will probably know too. Takes a good snap does Flipper, although that’s not important in relation to the grape question. I could ask Sergei, but presumably he’ll know more about potatoes and beetroot.

Tea and Babs

2005-01-23T22:36:00.000Z

Stepson gets a coffee mug for Christmas. He drinks neither tea nor coffee. Its one of those amusing ones where the picture on the outside changes when hot water is poured in, because of the ink used in the picture I imagine. A temperature thing.

The picture is taken from a Carry On Film and is one with Barbara Windsor getting her chest examined by Alan Dale, dressed as a doctor, using a stethoscope. When hot water is poured into the mug, her dress disappears and shes in her underwear.

I am 36 years old. To my generation and the one previous, this all makes sense. Ms Windsor is a famous British actress. Famous not so much for being overly blessed with acting ability, but for allowing her bottom to be shown on camera on at least one occasion, for a very famous bra-bursting scene and for walking through entire movies dressed almost entirely in skimpy nurses uniforms that bore little resemblance to the real thing. And for a very annoying giggle. Oh yeah, and being good mates with the Krays, lest we forget.

To my stepson, however, the picture on the front of the mug is Peggy Mitchell in her keks.

The good news is the mug is not dishwasher proof.

Made it, almost.

2005-01-20T23:21:00.000Z

I like Thursday evenings because I take a moment and think "One more day to go, I can make it". And up to now at least I have made it.

Recently a KFC opened up at Baldock services. They have had one or two teething problems. One was closing early on the day after they'd opened. Then they lost all power, so were unable to cook anything and even if they had been able to cook, they would not have been able to use the tills to add up the bill or open and close the money draws. To be fair, the reason for the outage is likely to have been something beyond their control.

The third problem, and this happened only a week or so before Christmas, was they had no chicken. KFC had no chicken. Kentucky Fried CHICKEN had no chicken. When I asked for Kentucky Fried Fries and a large bottle of Kentucky Fried Coke the guy serving thought I was taking the piss. He thought I was taking the piss.

Arnie the dog and square furniture

2005-01-19T22:55:00.000Z

A man gets treatment for toothache (but not headaches as far as I know) and discovers he has a nail embedded in the roof of his mouth, the presence of which he was unaware until an x-ray displayed the offending item. Apparently this is the 2nd such incident. Presumably not involving the same man.

1 Million Accident & Emergency cases in the UK per year are alcohol related, which equates to 2 fifths of the total number of cases. We really are very silly arent we?

Today California executed its first prisoner on death row in 3 years. Way to go Arnie, well done, you arsehole. Please try to remember that you are in public office now, not one of your films. More here:

Following my anti-Microsoft rant the other day I have now discovered that I actually cant uninstall Media Player 10. Im not surprised. It only reinforces my decision to dump the PC when this box dies.

Isnt Beetlebum by Blur a really great tune??

Dont like Ikea. Actually thats not strictly true. I quite like some of their products. I just dont like the people who shop there. At the Brent one anyway. Perhaps its just a London thing. So (here we go, I've been saving this all day, deep breath) take your sandals, your bonsai trees, your papooses, your pseudo intellect, your lack of imagination, your unread copy of the Sunday Times (with unread supplement of course), your faux middle class accent and shove them into the boot of your soft top Renault Megane (which in case you hadnt noticed is just a fucking Megane with a draft) and piss of back to Slough and stop pretending you come from Chelsea.

Damn, that felt goooooooooood.

Anyway, my eldest stepdaughter is not well. There's a bug going around which empties ones stomach using the tried and tested vomit method, and then empties the colon using the tried and tested liquidised faeces method. Sometimes employing both methods simultaneously. Poor babe thought she was shitting a bootlace. The countdown has started to when the next victim falls and I'm pretty sure it won't be me. I generally don't get these things, which is nice, but then I have to live with 4 others who generally do, which is not nice. I confess I am terrible around sick people. I have no patience with them, dirty things, and I absolutely abhor bad patients. No patience for bad patients. I so wanted to write that. And they are really bad patients, all of them. I gather that generally it's men who make the most fuss when they are not well, but not me. I hate being fussed over when I'm ill. Leave me alone pleeease.

I still quite like Ally McBeal. And pins-and-needles. Except when they're in my feet when I'm running. That means my achilles are playing up again. My little girl doesn't get pins-and-needles. She gets "fizzy" toes and fingers. Which to me is a far more accurate way of describing the sensation than "pins-and-needles".

My sister said goodbye to her six year old son today. It's his birthday and he got a Playstation 2. In his bedroom. Oh dear. She's planning to leave photos of her, her husband and the other 2 kids around his bedroom so that when he has to leave the room, to use the bathroom for example, and he bumps into one of them he'll have a vague idea who that person will be. I presume she has thought ahead and laid plans to update said photos on a 6 monthly, or so, basis.

The dog puked last night. Not a big one, relatively speaking, because he's a big dog. I don't think I've mentioned him before. He's a great big thing. Gun lab. Thick as pig shit and when his ears give him gyp, twice as smelly. He's getting old now, the eyes are starting to go a bit, and he has arthritis in his hips. Thankfully this doesn't cause him any pain, with the exception of one episode a while ago. It just makes him move a little slowly sometimes. The lino floor in the kitchen doesn't help. Slippy. I am getting used to thinking about when he won't be around. Horrible idea, but I reckon he's got a few years yet. Boy does he snore. He can't actually do anything quietly the noisy fecker.

Toujours dans la merde, seule la profondeur change.

2005-01-18T23:59:00.000Z

(!)

Trudging slowly over wet sand

2005-01-16T22:33:00.000Z

Not a good weekend at all. I was knackered Friday night. It’s been a busy week at work with the immediate boss off for three days. Doing his job combined with the two separate elements that make up mine left me very tired. For tired read irritable. A big clean up of the downstairs on Saturday, encompassing front room, bathroom, kitchen and hallway has left me with the feeling that the piss is being taken out of me. The kids get a job each every day. They divide the front room, bathroom and kitchen between them and make sure that all is clean and tidy. These are not big jobs, they are not difficult and everyday I am lead to believe that they are being done. I have been happy to take their word for it. At their ages I should be able to trust them. However this has not proved to be the case. Most efforts seem to have been at best superficial, at worst downright non-existent. I can’t decide if I am angry or upset. I’m certainly disappointed. Worst of all, probably, I’m actually not surprised.
Saturday evening, and youngest of the aforementioned piss-takers has two friends for a sleepover. I thing this is a really bad idea, and I know my girlfriend thinks it’s a bad idea because she never asked my opinion on it. It was another of those decisions that are made without me, despite the fact that I will be expected to share in the donkey work and generally help deal with things. If she had asked my opinion I would have told her that the same thing will happen as all the other times we have had sleepovers. They won’t go to bed, they will complain about everything and anything then they will stuff themselves silly with chocolate and fizzy drinks. They will still be awake at 3 in the morning and, as a consequence, so will we. Of course, all this happened. I take no gratification from being right, and I write this not just with the benefit of hindsight. I knew this would happen. It always does. Consequently, Sunday evening is spent with littleist person whinging and whining because she didn’t get any sleep and I am constantly being asked if I’m ok (I think my demeanour is somewhat caustic). Of course I’m not fucking ok. I was already knackered and I’ve had about 4 hours sleep. Grrr. Perversely, being so tired I decide to go for a run. Not as daft an idea as one might think. It gets me out of the house, away from the current source of my sullenness, and I get to listen to some music (shuffle play of U2 songs). This proves to be partially successful although my achilles are bloody killing me know. Bedfordshire roads and paths are about as flat as the Himalayas and about as well maintained as my car (poorly, desperately poorly).
So it’s Sunday evening. I’m almost relived the weekend is over. I shall go to work tomorrow and engage in those tedious chats where the conversants blather on how great the weekend was but don’t they always go so quickly?
I have just seen an ad banner on a website from Sky asking “Who cares if there are gales outside?”. I do. I bloody do. We’ve had some real problems recently with gale force winds, and my satellite signal has never failed to deteriorate. So fuck-you Murdoch. Even if you are, in my humble opinion, marginally better than NTL.
The PLO are urging an end to attacks on Israelis in Gaza by militants, ETA wants talks with the Spanish government and Spc Charles Graner has received a ten year prison sentence for his role in the abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib jail near Baghdad.

Reasons to be cheerful. One, two, three.

Legalese, sex,chocolate and eyes

2005-01-14T23:21:00.000Z

This week saw the opening of the trial for manslaughter of the executives who ran the company responsible for the Hatfield train crash. I am not by nature vindictive, I hope, but I must admit that I am quietly pleased that corporations and those who run them are now punishable for their failure to protect their customers, i.e. you and me, when they have been seen to be negligent in their duties. As a customer who uses that line on a regular basis, and one whos travel to work was severely disrupted while repair work was carried out after the incident, I am pleased that something is finally being done. Of course there have been other serious incidents since, and I hope the Hatfield trial doesnt end up being a P.R. sop so that any trials relating to later incidents are treated with more leniency. People die when trains crash. Innocent people. Fare paying customers. How many other industries would continue to be so publicly supported by the government for killing its customers. Apart from the tobacco industry of course.

In another legal case, the state of Texas is suing some of the worlds most prolific spammers. I suspect that the defendants wont receive too much sympathy from anyone who is reading this blog.

I heard that a shop in Biggleswade that sold new and used computers has closed. It shared the property with a sex shop. The computer shop shut with CCJs against it, presumably through lack of business, while the sex shop expanded to take over the whole of the premises. Im not sure what this says about the good citizens of Biggleswade, but it made me laugh.

Sometimes its nice to be anonymous through choice and just be the same as everyone else.

I really like mint Club bars. But Rocky bars vs Kitkat is a real dilemma.

As I get older, focusing on plane walls from up close is getting more difficult. This despite my optician recently telling me that my eyesight had actually improved since my eyes were last tested. Yeah right, whatever. I still am not going to buy your contacts you robbing git.

What A Lame Effort Tonight But Go Firefox

2005-01-13T22:19:00.000Z

Haven't had too much time lately to update. Know why? Of course you don't. No reason why you should. I'll tell you.

My PC died again. Fucking, fucking Microsoft XP bullshit-piss-wank operating system. I am a fussy person sometimes. I'm completely religious about keeping my PC virus defs up to date, my firewall, my auto-fucking-updates and all the other nonsense that praying to the God Of Seattle entails, and I still get something that rodgers my registry, stopping my browser from launching. System restore doesn't work OBVIOUSLY, and a call to a really helpful guy at AOL informs me that the new icon that suddenly appeared in my system tray is an SP2 thing, not an AOL thing. Don't misunderstand me, he really was very helpful. Uninstalling SP2 and reinstalling didn't work so I had to do the full XP reinstall. Fucking bastards. I apologise for my vituperations and lack of eloquence.

Anyway all is well, minus as many Microsoft applications that I could knowlingly remove. Gone is Media Player 10. Even though I liked it. Gone is IE (well, not "gone" but buttons hidden). AOL dialler and Firefox browser working very nicely so far, thank you. Very nippy. Gone is auto-update. It can advise me when there are updates but I'll be fucked if Bill's dickheads are going to piss about with MY machine anymore unless I click a button to say they can first. Useless wankers. I was going to upgrade this box later this year (I reckon I could do a decent spec for around £300 added to the improvements I've already made to it). But no. If MS deign to produce an operating system with less holes than a tea-bag factory I'll think again but until then I'll run this baby into the ground and then buy a one-way ticket to Appleville. There might even be some interesting Linux stuff around by then to think about. I'm happy with a media player, a web browser and a basic office suite, but available Linux apps for kids is a non-starter at the moment. I'll have enough trouble with the Mac on that score when they've got over how good it looks and start to actually want things installed on it.

As I couldn't update these dreary ramblings, I updated a doc every day at work to email to myself at home to remind me of the shite I was going to put down here. My memory being what it is and all. Of course I forgot to mail it to myself. Prat.

Thanks Tom and Flipper at WHQTTT for your kind words. Knowing that someone has actually read something that I've put down is quite a sobering thought. Flipper, the fraud thing was so tongue in cheek I could barely talk for a week.

Work is very busy and reviews are coming up soon. Bring it on. Can't wait. I'll try and write something more interesting than an anti-Microsoft rant next time. I mean, it's not like I'm the first....................

Go on try it. http://www.mozilla.org/products/firefox/

Late night, slow day

2005-01-08T01:14:00.000Z

I thought this made the point pretty well. For the record, the dead "animals" are fake.

Today I missed Texan Bars and Star Bars and I pondered for a while on how much I love tea. The drink, not the middle-to-upper-English afternoon ritual. It's great.

Yesterday I discovered a hair on my toothbrush. The hard way, when teeth were almost done. Not good. I wondered (I really did) how it got there and who it belonged to. And what body part it came from. Then I stopped wondering.

Sometimes I am impatient and often I do not suffer fools gladly (pot, kettle, black). A customer at work asked for an item to be delivered on a next day, pre 9.00am delivery. The recipient was a high street travel agents. They called to complain that they hadn't received their item. It was discovered that they had received a card from the delivery driver who called at 6.53am only to discover no-one there. I know we said pre-9.00 but come on, who was going to be there at 6.53?? This is the type of ridiculous shite I sometimes have to deal with. That and telephone systems that thank me for my call and can I press 1 for sales, 2 for accounts and please hold to speak with a fellow member of the human race. I know lots of people hate them, what I'm saying isn't new or radical. I just wanted to say it.

I like pens that you have to twist to get the nib out. And I really do not like Robbie Williams. I am a music snob although I try not to be. My name is Matt and I do not like been mistakenly called Max. It happens a lot in my work because I deal with lots of foreign customers in lots of foreign countries across lots of poor quality telephone lines.

People are nice, mostly. Europeans, Americans, Australians, Turks, Israelis, Mexicans, Argentinians, Indians, Japanese, Eskimos and everyone else. Jews, Catholics, Protestants, Sikhs, Muslims, Hindus and all the rest. For all the abominable things we do each other, most of us are just getting on and doing our thing. Today I feel quite hopeful and I have no specific reason why. I just do.

Somewhat Lacking In Focus

2005-01-05T22:27:00.000Z

I wish I could get a freshly toasted bagel from the toaster without burning my fingers.

Today's tune was Buddy Holly's "True Love Ways". No idea why.

We've been asked by work to bring some spare stuff in for the disaster relief. Things needed include dried food; pasta, rice etc. I hope this doesn't appear crass, but it hints at the desperation of the survivors that we can help by sending rice to that region. Rice. I hope I'm not pandering to a stereotype here but needing to send what I believe to be a basic staple of that region's diet cannot be a good sign. When disasters have struck in the past, albeit on smaller scales, I've always held the belief that somehow, despite all the horrific stories and images, somehow some good comes from it. I don't feel that now. Perhaps it's just the enormous scale of what happened, or the nearness (in time). I don't know.

First day back at school for the kids. Back to the mad mornings, the running around, the missing hairbrushes, the need for tea, for quiet, for a slow dawning to the day. I hate mornings, always have. When I wasn't working for a while, sleeping from 3 in the morning until midday or later was perfect. I gravitated to that time pattern like a thumb to a teething baby's gob.

Read a short piece from Zen & The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance. Good stuff, even in small pieces. I can't claim to understand a lot of what's written, but reading and re-reading (and growing older) helps putting some of the pieces into the jigsaw. I firmly believe I'll finally get it about 5 mins before I expire.

Went for a run this evening. Really missed it. I'm not a natural athlete by any means, but it's great. Me, the darkness, Kasabian on the (now-working) iPod. Very cool. Bit stiff now, and I didn't run as far as I used to, but it's a start.

I'd like to end today with something funny. But I can't think of anything. Bugger. TTFN.

I Do Not Like It

2005-01-03T23:52:00.000Z

Nihilistic, masochistic, hedonistic, immoralistic (if that word exists). It is, of course, shopping.

I really do not like shopping. I especially do not like it when it's with 3 females and 1 other male (aged 15) in a busy shopping centre. I stayed calm. Quiet but calm. On the outside. Inside I was throttling small things slowly. It helped. The small things didn't mind. It's their raison d-etre.

I am watching Spinal Tap. I forget how clever it is. Just done the "Lick my love pump" gag. Quality.

I had a conversation recently which included a comment about Venn Diagrams.

Bear with me.

The conversation revolved around how much we are taught at school that we actually use. Or not, as the case may be. We spent a ridiculous amount of time at school on Venn Diagrams and I have NEVER had a reason since to use one. Except to make a point during the aforementioned conversation. If that is the only thing I will ever need it for I will be pretty ticked off, let me tell you. A bit knowledge about other things at that time (like girls) would have been significantly more beneficial.

Back to work proper tomorrow. How dreary that thought is. (Spinal Tap are lost under a venue trying to find the stage and repeatedly shouting "rock and roll").

I am looking forward to Thursday when the Christmas decorations come down. For me, it's over now. Once New Years Day is out of the way I can't wait to get the front room back to normal. We have little enough space as it is and the tree is pretty big. And I'm fed up with the dog's tail whacking baubles across the room from the lower branches like a highly talented baseball player every time we have a visitor.

(Spinal Tap are doing Stonehenge. Or should I say Stow nenge?.

I suppose, in a sad way, that one can measure the scale of the disaster in Asia by the fact that it's still number one news item over a week after the event. What a sorry lot we are. Keep giving.

I'm Enjoying A Quiet Morning

2005-01-02T12:43:00.000Z

New Years Day was quite strange. My girlfriends brother and his family came around and we watched some football before venturing out for a pub dinner. Very nice, very mellow. The kids were on good form, not much arguing and no dramas with wrong food orders, spilled drinks/ketchup etc. In the evening my girlfriend and the kids visited an old friend of hers in Southampton (about 2 hours drive from here) and stayed overnight. I was invited, but a hectic Christmas and New Year left me needing a bit of quiet time so I took the opportunity to stay behind. Much better I feel for it too. Just me, the dog, the T.V. and a good nights sleep. Very good for the karma. I hope they're back fairly soon though, I bore myself after a while.

I was thinking of a conversation I had with my littleist step daughter a few years ago. She would have been 5 or 6. I'm sprawled out on the bed watching telly while my girlfriend watches the soaps (which I hate) downstairs. Littleist step daughter (L) is sitting beside me, having told me all about The Really Important Things That Happened Today At School (a daily report). The conversation, after said daily report, goes roughly like this:-

her: M, have you ever slept with anyone?

me: yes sweetheart. You know I have. I sleep in this bed with Mummy

(at this point of course an alarm should have rung somewhere in my head. If it did, I never heard it)

her: nooooo, that's not what I meant. I mean have you ever slept with anyone?

(now I hear the alarm)

me: errrm, I'm not sure what you mean (a lie, obviously. Thought gathering, need time)

her: don't you know what sleeping with somebody means? (spoken in that voice which implies that I am, clearly, the most stupid person on planet Earth)

me: (I am calm and collected) Well, it could mean a few things. What do you think it means? (great comeback, M, she's on the back foot now)

her: I can't say because it's rude

me: ok, you tell me exactly what you think it means and I promise I won't be angry if it is rude. (Then in softly spoken wise adult tone...) It's important that we know exactly what we're talking about to save any confusion.

her: weeellll, (pause) sleeping with somebody means, (pause) you know (longer pause), Shagging.

(At this point tea-in-gob becomes tea-on-lap-and-duvet)

me: (after a moment) do you know what shagging actually means? (She has an older sister and an older brother, so I'm assuming she does)

her: (shaking head) no (and I believe her).

me: ok, go and ask Mummy. (ha ha)

And I swear it wasn't me who introduced her to Austin Powers...............

Day One. Again.

2005-01-01T19:48:00.000Z

The first day of the year starts as most of them usually do. Knackered. Very late night. No real hangover as I was fairly drunk but not stupid. Lots of water before night-night did the trick. Festivities were ok, nothing special but the kids had fun. As midnight came upon us, the large screen switched to the BBC coverage for the countdown and, of course, thoughts were with the peoples of South Asia at this time.

I don't do new years resolutions. I am going to get back into my running, but that's not a resolution, that's just a plan.

The choice of McDonald's yesterday came back with a vengeance a few hours later, if you know what I mean.

I think I need to smile more. Maybe that could be a resolution. Smile. I frown quite a bit apparently, although I'm not aware of it and it doesn't necessarily mean that I'm ticked of about something.

Don't really feel like writing to be honest. So I won't.

Back At Work For One Day

2004-12-31T10:05:00.000Z

The last day of 2004. Personally it's been a pretty good year. More good days than bad, and the many of the goods were VERY good. The bad days haven't been too bad really, with hindsight, although it didn't always seem like that at the time.

Events in Southeast Asia continue to dominate. Death tolls rising (currently 125,000+). It seems crass to say what a good year 2004 was when it has ended so appallingly for so many people. Can you believe that I was slightly annoyed that I had to work until 5.30pm on Christmas Eve? 48 hours later 1000's were dead and I'm bitching about having to work a full day when previously we finished early on the 24th. "Work" is an exaggeration as well, we did sod all. I complain that the human race is often small minded and petty. I'm the same and I take no pleasure in it. It seems that we are never satisfied. We never have enough. As soon as we get what we want, we want more. I believe this is a typically Western thing. It's the nature of capitalism to want more, indeed one could argue that it's absolutely essential to capitalism that we are never satisfied. If we are truly content and we want for nothing, what then? What would we work for? What would we spend our money on? The whole house of cards would tumble down. I think this makes us mean, selfish and ultimately unhappy. How many times have you bought something for the 5 minute novelty value to wear off, leaving you with the feeling that you've wasted your time and money? I couldn't begin to count the number of times I've done it. There are many things I want, but very few that I need that I don't already have. I am blessed.

Mmmm, McDonalds or Pizza Hut for lunch? Tricky one. My life is so problematic that this has become burning question and a decision is required urgently. Either will satisfy me and I'm leaning towards Pizza Hut. But no, a last minute change of mind and McDonalds it is. My guts are going to hate me later.

For any who read this, I wish you a peaceful and happy new year. If 2004 was bad for you, I hope 2005 is better. If 2004 was good, I hope the run continues.

Nothing To Add

2004-12-30T23:18:00.000Z

I have nothing to add to what's already been said about the awful events in Asia. I can't make anything better, and my donation seems diabolically inadequate. Christmas excesses dictate the amount I can give, which in itself is an ironic obscenity.

The Pogues were brilliant, unbelievably brilliant, but nothing shines right now. Got home at 2.15am and at 3.30am I was walking around my kitchen in circles with chronic cramp in my right calf (from mosh pit over-exuberance) and chronic heartburn (from carling and guinness over-exuberance).

Christmas was great, very hectic, but satisfying and fun. I can't write anything else. Just can't.

Toblerone Tuesday

2004-12-21T22:18:00.000Z

My girlfriend, bless her, bought me a huge Toblerone. It's about a metre long, I reckon, and as fat as the middle tube of a loo roll. I promised the kids all sorts of evil repercussions if any of them touched it. I've had some and it's just the best. Tomorrow I will let them know that they can have some. In fact they can have the rest between them. I've had my fix now, time to move on. I don't know why I'm telling you about my Toblerone.

The Pogues gig tomorrow night. Can't wait. I read the song list from their gig last night (in Manchester I think) and if it's the same it'll be a belter. I think the Saw Doctors are supporting so they should get things going pretty well.

Work pretty quiet so I had a doze at lunch time, instead of watching the Muppets version of Treasure Island. Completely forgot about the dog (we were all late home tonight so really I should have come home at lunch time to let him out in the garden so can empty himself). He didn't seem to mind, he wasn't bursting to go or crossing his legs (any dog lover will tell you they KNOW when he/she needs to go and mine wasn't struggling). And he still loves me.

I read yesterday (briefly, so I'm not au fait with the details) that there is legislation going through the European Parliament regarding property and patents relating to computer software. A final decision is going to be made shortly by the dept involved with fishing quotas and declining stocks. Read that last sentence again of you feel the need. Apparently it's more important for the Dutch (currently the head honchos) to be seen to have left a legacy before control is passed on, than for a proposal to be drafted, debated and written precisely by the appropriate department for the greater benefit of the fish, the fishing industry and European fish consumers. FOR FUCKS SAKE. The European Parliament is facing huge doubts regarding it's effectiveness, credibility, flexibility and even it's own existence. Pushing through rushed legislation for political face-saving is a massive backwards step. How are they ever going to be taken seriously? I am a definite Europhile. I firmly believe in a Europe of shared culture, travel, economics, defence, developing-world aid packages and currency, all lead by a central, elected European Parliament that devolves most of it's powers to federal governments also elected. But we are not there yet, not by a long way. And if this is how they do business on a day-to-day basis, it's going to take such a long time. How utterly, utterly depressing.

It's ten tears since Dennis Potter died. TEN YEARS. Wow. That went quick. I just watched a short interview with Pete Doherty on Newsnight. For those who don't know, he's one half of the genius behind The Libertines. The John Lennon half. The band is gone (final gig the other night in Paris without him). It was a sad interview but also hopeful. He's a heroin and crack cocaine addict. He was open and honest and he sang Music When the Lights Go Out which made me cry. He's pretty switched on, he knows he's got to sort himself out. Recent reports of his condition during live gigs with his new band (Babyshambles) are really worrying. I saw The Libertines live at Brixton Academy early this year and they were absolutely brilliant. All I can say is that I hope he gets through it and I hope he doesn't die because I think there is a chance he might. We need people like him. More than they need us. To me he's not an icon. He's not cool just because he's a young man with a drug problem. He's a genius who hasn't yet reached his potential, and might never. I don't think we need another Kurt Cobain. In a world dominated by Bush, Blair, war, starvation, homelessness, helplessness, political ineptitude, solitude, institutionalised racism, human rights abuses, hate and apathy we need the light of artists, singers, songwriters, journalists, film makers, operas, playwrites, comedians, genuine sportsmen and women, actors, healthcare workers, priests and poets. Without them, we're fucked.

Sorry Sorry Sorry

2004-12-20T22:20:00.000Z

1000 shiny new apologies to Tesco who arrived at the designated time with my order. I do not know how, as I never received any confirmation, and I don't know if I've actually paid for it (heh heh) due to lack of said confirmation.

Little visit to Sainsbury's coin machine with a heavy bin full of coins leads to £100 in the plus column, and a brief chat with a complete stranger who informs me that a truck in the car park is being driven by a guy with a dog on his lap, and doesn't he know that's how accidents are caused. I mumble something vague because all my brain power is asking "why me, why me, why me?" He toddles off into the shop, apparently satisfied that he has shared his wisdom with another member of the human race.

I feel like a sponge..................

What A Let Down

2004-12-19T23:50:00.000Z

The wonders and promises of modern technology are once again left empty and rotting. Did all my online grocery shopping (TESCO) and get to the final page to book a delivery slot and would you believe, no more available until after Christmas. I can accept -just- that they are so busy that they can't keep up. I can accept -just- that the economics of taking on temporary staff to cover the extra work cannot be justified. I can NOT accept that I have to spend 45 minutes putting the order on, and only THEN finding out that the dates up until Christmas are no longer available. Is seems fairly obvious to me that lots of orders at this time of year will be needed before the big day and a simple message on the home page saying that delivery before Christmas is no longer available would have gone a long way on the P.R. front. Bastards. I wanted to write some thing light-hearted about this, but I'm really annoyed. I'm going to find a pram, get in it and start throwing my toys out of it.

A mate of mine is please Blunkett has gone. This is his take on things and fair play to him for the research. http://seldomthevisionary.com/2004/12/when-you-lose-control-and-you-got-no.htm

I am less definite about it. He's gone but now we've got a proper bolshy git as a replacement. For all his faults, I can't help think that Blunkett was trying to do the right thing. He fucked up a lot of things, the I.D. card fiasco was one of a series, but I reckon when we are finally brainwashed into accepting it, the resulting scheme from Charles Clarke will be a lot more "police state" than one we would have got from Blunkett. Clarke, at least it seems to me, is a boorish overblown sod who is WAY too impressed with himself and anyone in the government who doesn't agree with him is on the way out. A final word on Blunkett, he took over the office from Jack Straw. Can you imagine the state of the dept when he got there??

Littleist step-daughter is not well, bless her. Sore throat, chesty cough. A heavy cold. We LOVE Calpol. Unfortunately she has a tendency to exaggerate the condition somewhat, so when the Calpol kicks in she forgets to cough dramatically and her appetite (for crisps and chocolate) amazingly returns.

Day off tomorrow, so a lie-in. I need to do Christmas shopping the old fashion way now and I might avoid Tesco out of principal. Probably won't though, they've got the biggest car park and I'm easily swayed. Bastards.

Gotta go, BBC1 is showing Rosemary's Baby.

Week over

2004-12-18T08:45:00.000Z

End of the first week of this blog. So far I haven't said much, but it's quite therapeutic, is it not, to mentally run through recent events and close them off in your mind? I find that I'm going back over things a bit more and thinking more about them. A short conversation heard today being a case in point.

I'm in the tea room at work making a brew for the 5 of us in our tea round and it's around 2.30, which means most of the staff have had lunch. The tea romm's a bit of a mess and Friday is our day to tidy up. This involves emptying the dishwasher of the clean crockery and refilling it so there are enough clean cups for the afternoon tea breaks. There are two of the older lady members of staff in the tea room and one of them has been through (as I understand it) a pretty messy divorce. As far as I'm aware it's finalised from a legal standpoint, but not from an emotional one. The lady in question is a gentle soul, very helpful, very genuine but I get the impression that she is sometimes a bit overwhelmed by things. She is saying how horrible things generally are these days. How mean, cynical, brutal, unfriendly, selfish, ungrateful and unsatisfied we all are. By nature I am some of these things, and I confess that in my darker moments I am many of these things, but I was struck that these words were been spoken by someone who normally has a much sunnier disposition, at least to me. Somehow her words didn't seem to fit her. I would like to say that I disagree with her, but unfortunately I don't.

As I'm getting older I'm becoming more introspective and more willing to explore personal motives and feelings. It's quite a scary journey at times, and I am often deeply uncomfortable at what I find when I arrive. For instance, and this is a rather weak example so I apologise in advance, I've never really given much thought to how the weather affects my moods. But it does, and while it's not a defining factor most of the time, weather does sometimes have a stronger bearing on my demeanor than I would prefer.

I would sometimes like to be less a creature of instinct, more one of intellect. Less prone to influence and more driven by logic.

Everyday I wake up with a tune in my head. Every single day, no exceptions. I have no idea what the tune will be tomorrow, or why any particular tune becomes that day's opus du jour. I have always assumed that it is in whatever dream I have been dreaming, however I so seldom remember them that I can't confirm this. It's quite annoying not remembering dreams. People, especially the kids, always seem to be able to do it (no doubt richly embellished in the telling too) and I am faintly jealous at their easy recall. I'm lead to believe that we all dream and I feel I'm missing out on something. Perhaps a large slab of strong cheese before I go to bed may help (at the expense of high cholesterol and chronic bad breath of course).

Blogging is a good way of getting things off ones chest is it not? Forget Land Rovers, Mitsubishis and other 4 x 4's, blogging it the best offload vehicle I can think of. (ba-boom, TISH, I thank you).

The evening after

2004-12-17T07:30:00.000Z

Well, I'm a bit sore today. Gig was WAY better than I thought it was going to be. I thought maybe Brixton might be a bit too big for them, but not so. They know how to do it, big style. Comparisons with Happy Mondays and Stone Roses are both obvious and valid. You can dance to these guys. The front man could have been Ian Brown. I was deep in the mosh pit so I got kicked and elbowed to bejesus. Quality. A brief word about the support. Missed the first band "Trap2" I think they were called. Couple of people we spoke to said they were ok. Next was The Dead 60's. Ska based. Dead good but maybe the venue was a bit too big still for them. Lots to learn as far as stage craft goes, but musically, very tight. The bass player was very comfortable, which you really need if your going to play ska. Look out for them.

There is a certain smug satisfaction knowing that you witnessed an event (in this case a gig) that will be looked back on in years to come by those who weren't there with not an insignificant amount of envy. I fella I used to work with was bitterly jealous that I got to see U2 on the Joshua Tree tour. I, however, was bitterly jealous of those who got to see them on the Unforgettable Fire tour (not to mention a friend of the family who saw them around Dublin in the very early days when they couldn't play, sing or write music. He said they were shit. Shows you what he knows). Anyway, back to Brixton next week for The Pogues. I'm looking forward to this one so badly I could poo.

Work was pretty quiet, but buoyed up by our previous nights entertainment we made it through painlessly if a little slowly. The day was made longer than was necessary by the missus sleeping in and waking up 12 minutes before her train was due. Needless to say that I was press ganged into also getting up and driving her to the station. Tired, bleary eyed and lacking spectacles, I got her there in time. The train was late so she caught it otherwise she wouldn't have. I would have been even more pissed if it had all been for nothing.

I noticed today that on the BBC local news (Look East) that when they show the reporters name on the caption during a report, they also now put the reporters email address. I wonder why. Presumably they want to appear more accessible and approachable (who says Auntie is dumbing down??) but I can't help but think that the only people who would actually use this would be the 21st century equivalent of those who write pathetic letters that are heavily edited on the letters page of The Sun. You know the ones: Mr Rightous from Wantage wants the birch brought back for those young ruffians who look at him in a "menacing" way when he goes to buy his paper. Prison's too good for them, put 'em in the soon-to-be-reduced Army. I don't buy newspapers any more. I used to enjoy The Independant, but I don't get the time to read it. I find the best way of keeping track of things is to a) look at the Sky news website for breaking news, b) ignore most of what they say, c) wait 30 mins or so, d) look at the BBC news website. I won't claim the Beeb are infallible or free from hidden agenda, but they generally prove to be more factually accurate than Sky. The Sky-Murdoch-Sun link is painfully, one would venture criminally, obvious. Ok, off the soapbox Mr M, it's late and I'm tired and ratty. The dog's backside is releasing the kind of toxic gases that flout the Kyoto Treaty. He dropped one a little while ago that was so bad that even he had to leave the room. Have you ever know a dog that had to do that?? The good thing about having a girlfriend that has to get up really early every day is that she gets to deal with anything to dog may have deposited the night before. Ungallant I know. But true.

First Post. Up and running.

2004-12-15T06:51:00.000Z

I've been thinking all day what to put on DAY ONE and I have no idea. Something from my past? Something from today? Mmmm.

Today was OK. Work was a little dull, not particularly strenuous and except the last hour, went pretty quick. All talk was of tomorrow evening. A live gig at Brixton Academy to see Kasabian. There's been a lot of talk about them his year. The album's really good and hopwfully the burden of comparisons to the Happy Monday's won't be their downfall. Did some quick research on the support act too, The Dead 60's and they sound ok to. Ska influenced, so can't be all bad.

Step son is not well. His Mum and I are both feeling guilty that we underestimated the severity of his illness, but he won't die anytime soon and there is some comfort in the knowledge that if he hadn't cried wolf so often in the past he would have received more sympathy now. We're not monsters after all.

Step daughters (two) are fine but grounded because a) the diabolical state of their bedroom and b) the time it has taken then to make the merest smidgen of the tiniest hint of an effort to tidy it. Giving us Xmas lists as long as oil tankers is unwise when walking into their bedroom to wake them in the mornings endangers ankles, knees, elbows and cranium. Love does not make me immune to piss-taking.

I recently regained contact with some friends I lost a long time ago. I am surprised just how chuffed I am to have found them again. It seems much has changed in their lives, as it has in mine, and yet somehow they don't appear to have changed much. I wonder if they think the same about me. I guess time will tell.