Archive for the ‘Work’ Category

This is getting to be ridiculous. It’s not a case of “so much for global warming” but more a case of “bloody typical it affects us like this”. We seem to have a load of nice beaches so global warning could be a good thing, but no, rather than being able to benefit from it we just seem to have lost our summer altogether. The UK is the new rainforest.

I started the day in a foul mood though. After all, I just had a shower and have come out smelling like a urinal. The shower gel provided is scented by what I can only describe as “eau du toilet block”. I suppose the smell will linger too.

There is another sad sign today of the poor state of the economy as well. Having paid around £20 extra per night for this hotel room I realise they have started to cut corners to save money. One of the perks of having the “Executive Room” used to be some “free” drinks (Still Water, Fizzy Water, can of Coke and a bar of Dairy Milk) as well as free internet. Well it seems in their wisdom this particular Holiday Inn has not gone with the Free Internet and has cut down the size of the chocolate bar and even ditched the can of coke in favour of a “Just Juice”. Cheapskates.

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I just saw a piece on the news about a girl who lost her fingers as a toddler and has just received a “bionic hand”.  When I saw the thing it was a truly amazing feat of engineering, unfortunately all I could see was a fatal wanking accident waiting to happen.  But on a serious note, she looked so happy with it.  Kind of makes me wonder what I am moaning about on this blog really.

 

 

 

 

 

Ok, thats enough of that.  I need a distraction.  Ah, there we go, world mobile phone throwing competition in Finland…

 

There’s just 40 minutes left of what has been a bit of a crap day.

I’ve had what’s left of my hair removed by my wife who wasn’t paying attention. I now look like Evan Davis! I have to keep checking that I haven’t got any of the kids fuzzy felts stuck to my head.

I got lost countless times trying to fund this here hotel. Bloody “crap-nav” letting me down big-time.

About the only thing that’s making things ok is that I’m having a better day than Gaddafi.

This can’t be right can it? I’m sat at a small table for two and have just been asked by a complete stranger if I mind sharing the table.

Now what do I do? Sit here staring at her? Nope.
Chat to her? Nope.

Instead I sit here furiously writing this whilst worrying if I’ve got crumbs on my chin. We are engaged in the most awkward game of London Underground-style reading-all-the-posters-on-the-walls-and-not-making-eye-contact that I have ever had to endure.

It would have been easier just to start talking from the start.
Thanks for ruining my lunch. Cow.

07:30 – no smell of violence this morning, just a mild whiff of chav-shit. They don’t seem to have fancied their chances against 15,000 coppers and vigilantes.

But that’s just London. Not wanting to be left out, the scum-of-the-north took a turn last night. One of them on the news today making it sound like “getting free stuff” was a basic human right.

07:42 – Changing the subject somewhat, someone got dressed in the dark this morning. It won’t come out in the picture, but really, navy jacket / charcoal trousers combo?
Your wife is either blind or she doesn’t love you as much as you love her.

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Fuck me, I just clocked he’s wearing a chocolate brown shirt as well. Mate, your wife must be having an affair, your clearly not so attractive that she’s letting you look so ridiculous just to put off other women.

07:59 – I’m at Pret. A woman blasts through the doors clutching a book in her hand. She heads straight to the toilet, not for a coffee. This can only mean one thing. She is busting for a shit.

Another thing I don’t get, whilst I am looking around my fellow breakfast-eaters, is blokes who cross their legs at the knee when sitting.  I’ve only attempted this a handful of times and I am more than aware that becoming an expert at anything is commonly known to require somewhere in the region of 30,000 hours of practice, but on the few times I have tried it the experience has proven to be immensely uncomfortable.  Not in any small way as a result of my “having testicles”.   Am I missing a trick here or is the world more3 heavily populated by eunuchs than I would have imagined.

I know, you don’t want to be imagining eunuchs either.  So lets go back to yesterday briefly.  On my way back from lunch I was stopped by a tourist.  She had taken the lead in asking for directions.  Her boyfriend (not wearing the trousers) remained in the background, seated on some steps.

“Hexuse me… chwhere his arooods please” she asked.

“Pardon?”

“Arooods, chwhere his eet?”

“Sorry, I don’t know what… oh wait a minute… where am I again?  Oh yes, near Knightsbridge.  ‘Harrods’ you mean?  The shop?”  I reply.

“Ah yes… Harroooooods” she repeats (if you can call that repeating).

“I don’t know.  Thats Knightsbridge over there, its down there somewhere.  Bye”.

What the hell is it with people asking me for directions this week?

08:47 – Back to Riot News.  I got some great advice yesterday, from a courier delivery man.  He was telling me how the looters were idiots, that a lot of them were just stealing beer from off-licenses etc.

“They are idiots” he pointed out quite needlessly.  “They are going around looting small ticket items like beer and wine, but the crime is Looting.  It doesn’t matter if they take a bottle of beer or a 50″ screen television, they are going to get done for the same crime.  What they want to do is go around to the Louis Vuitton shop around the corner.  I deliver around there all the time, its only got a shutter at the back, 15 minutes working on that and your in to Aladdin’s Cave!”.

06:59 – there is nothing quite like heading into a city of unrest to help you wake up in the morning. Fingers crossed the thieving idiots are too knackered to show their faces until the working day has passed, I’ve got enough to be thinking about today without considering starring in my own action movie “Escape from London”.

07:43 – people I am now eyeing with suspicion:

  • people younger than me
  • people in hoods
  • people who look tired
  • people carrying shopping bags
  • people using blackberrys (to be honest, I’ve long been weary of blackberry users, though typically it’s the ones in suits not the ones in hoods that bothered me).

These looters couldn’t get enough milk:

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Some more Blackberry users making plans for tonight…

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I know they look like business suits, don’t be fooled. They are tracksuits darkened by the soot from the fires they set last night.

15:37 – I’m hearing one too many sirens, seeing one to many riot vans stuffed with frightened looking police and staying one too many hours more than I would like in Central London. I hope they don’t start on Hammersmith, my car and only means of escape is there.

20:17 – Membury Services, M4 Eastbound. I’ve just entered the men’s toilets, the characteristic smell of piss is turning my guts. I just rejected one cubicle. No seat. I don’t need the seat, I’ve selected a cubicle because I like my privacy. There was also a solitary segment of floating poo.
I moved to the next one, this just had a fallen pube marinating in a puddle of urine. I thought service stations in the UK were improving.
The manager of this one needs sacking.

08:49 – it’s nice to be back on the road, travelling for work. No really, it is, seriously, I’ve just spent the night sharing my hotel room with a large spider that the previous occupants had squashed on the wall as well as another, identical one (presumably it’s twin brother) that I squashed onto the opposite wall.
I’m now dining on the last of my M&S breakfast, the fruit course that should instead be labelled “Tasteless Grapes”.

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I will soon have to do battle with the customer, it’s been more than two years since I was last here. It’s the only customer I’ve visited where I ended up agreeing to drop the charge and it wasn’t even my fault that things didn’t work out.
Unfortunately for them, the next people they got in made a right mess of things and now they’ve come crawling back. Fingers crossed the bloke I worked with last time I was here has found employment elsewhere, I can’t be doing with that again. Worse still I think I may be wearing the dame shirt as last time I was here. It has been washed. Honest.

19:25 – there’s a coach trip in. What is it about old people and coach trips? I’m hoping I will find out. Another thing I am looking forward to is that sense of entitlement. Entitlement to be rude.
Once again I’ve found myself standing aside to allow the old person to pass by, a stupid mistake in it’s self as I know I’m quicker than the creaky old cow, only to be ignored completely.
Maybe it’s not entitlement, maybe she can just see the look of resentment on my face.

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23:03 – just finished watching “Firewall” starring Harrison Ford and “Chloe” from 24. I approve, though it’s not one you’d want to watch again.
Some seriously suspect flaws in the “hacking” scenes though. I’d also really hate to live in America, all their computers seem to bleep continuously as screens refresh and televisions always click loudly when turned on or off, not to mention the hissing sound when changing channels. Misery, utter misery.

Back to work

Posted: July 18, 2011 in Mentally Ill?, Travel

Imagine a string vest, now imagine a knitted jumper in the style of a string vest, so basically it’s a woollen jumper with a fishnet effect, lots of big gaps in it to see what lies below.
Now, consider that when driving through Llanelli and passing a sixty-odd year old woman weighing about 17 stone with breasts like deflated beach-balls who clearly was not all there in the head, you may understand why my day is off to a bad start.
Oh, did I mention she was ONLY wearing the see-through jumper?