Supreme indifference

I just choked on an apple. I nearly, actually, really, died. I am at work and my boss was standing beside me as my life began to ebb away. She did sod all. I mean really, how close to death do you have to be before your own manager, (another human being let's not forget) either notices or cares about your well-being? It's a bit like Hitler. Oh dear, she's just come back into the office and seen what I'm writing.

I fear death my be my companion sooner than expected.

Leaning Desk Syndrome

My desk at works leans. My colleague's desk leans too. So either we both co-incidentally, have leaning desks or the whole building is on the wonk. Now if that's the case then it means my workplace has subsidence which is clearly a major safety issue. Therefore, I shall have no option but to leave my job which will result in me being unable to pay the mortgage and then it will get reposessed by the bank and I shall end up living in a Zanussi freezer box, near the bins behind Dolland & Aitchison.

Alternatively, I can just place a small piece of cardboard under the legs to correct the lean and then everything will be fine. Unless, whilst lifting the desk up and stooping to place the cardboard under the legs, I cause my vertebrae to collapse, rendering me unable to walk which will mean I can no longer work which will result in me being unable to pay the mortgage and ... etc etc.

Actually, how do you use a spirit level?

VFM day

I've got a real thing about not wasting your days off from work. You know how some days just seem to fly by and when you look back, you feel like you've not done really anything at all? And then before you know it, it's bath-time and up the wooden hill to beddy-byes.

These sorts of days are bad VFM - Value For Money. I bloody hate 'em. So, bizarrely, on my days off I get up at the same time (or even earlier) than I do on work days, just so I can make the most of not being at work. Is that mental? Possibly. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. This is because it's all very well dragging yourself out of your fetid pit at 7am, but if you just waft around the lounge in your pants for three hours, you're not exactly giving yourself an action-packed day.

So today, as I'm not working, I'm up early and have plans: have a light, yet nutritionally balanced breakfast (peanut butter on toast and a pint of coffee); head down to Tesco to buy ingredients for making a big, homemade pizza for tea; go the gym for an hour; phone the council about an erroneous postal voting thing they sent us; write and send a 'congratulations on your engagement card' (which I should have done before today); finish writing my presentation (more on that tomorrow); phone Microsoft and complain even more bitterly than last time about my deceased Xbox 360; go to the toilet; iron the cat and have a shower. Oh, and make, bake and eat the pizza with my wife.

Now I reckon that's a pretty full day. Some of it is fun, some mundane, some tiring, some irritating and some a pain in the pooper. Nevertheless, it will be a really good VFM day and I'm sure I shall feel a real sense of achievement when it's all over.

Or I may just waft around the lounge in my pants for thirteen hours.

Fame and all that

It's Saturday, I'm at work and I have a headache the size of Izbekistan. That asisde, I'm just fine. T'other evening after work, some colleague-chums and I availed ourselves of a nearby hostelry whereupon the conversation turned (after a discussion about sewing lasted for less than 9 seconds) to 'famous people wot I have met'.

It's quite surprising how many famous people we have all encountered over the years. A couple of er, highlights included someone who accidentally laid a hand on the royal bosom of Princess Caroline of Monaco, in a swimming pool; someone else who got to interview big-faced laugher - Brian("Gordon's alive!)"Blessed in a caravan; someone who once danced with Kylie Minogue for "about 5 seconds" and finally me, who once put a naan bread on the head of Joseph Fiennes (bruv of Ralph) during a meal at a curry house in Birmingham.

However, the award for the 'Most Crap And Tenuous Link To Someone Famous' was the person who's ex-boyfriend's auntie was once the P.A for Ken Dodd . How rubbish is that? Mind you, I came a close second with my thrilling account of seeing the back of Aled Jones' head as he stood on a pavement talking to a rozzer.

Can any of you beat that?

Yay, Harry Podder!

My esteemed Scottish coleague is, as I've mentioned before, something of a literary enigma. Despite this high-brow exterior, she also likes to 'dumb down' and join the rest of us from time to time.

A case in point is Harry Potter. She's a big fan of the bespectacled wizard (as am I)but not to the point of being an obsessive. Some people, however, are a little more enchanted by the whole H.P thing and love nothing more than to chat in online forums about anything and everything 'Potter'. There are a number of websites that encourage people to discuss the minutae of the books; the plot lines; the hidden meaning behind certain fragments of text; the many complex relationships and inter-relationships of the myriad characters and even to point out the tiniest mistakes which Ms Rowling has dared to make in her (so far), six tomes.

However, the more amusing reading comes when you encounter the chat forums where some of our American friends reside. Here are a couple of amusing Q&A's that my colleague discovered. One correspondent from Utah proclaimed that Hogwart's was definitely in England because "the train never crosses any water to get there". Someone from the UK replied that there are, actually, two little-known countries called Scotland and Wales which are connected by land, to England. Another cracker came from someone in Wyoming who declared that the Harry Potter books are "based in a country called Kent, which is near England". Bless our little chums across the pond.

Oh what do I know? I had no idea Paris was in Texas.

Bugger

I have forgotten to post for the last few days and there's only 10 mins left of Sunday. I had a work trauma on Saturday which was quite dramatic but as I don't tell you about my work (for reasons of international security) I can't divulge any more. Suffice to say it involved an ambulance, 400 people and me being the focus of much attention.

We went for a big walk today and it felt like summer. I even saw a butterfly. Honest to God. My wife and I feel super-chilled after 4 hours in the lovely, sunny countryside. My wife actually said that the unseasonably warm temperatures (caused by global warming) "made you feel better". Well that's that then. Always look on the bright side. Hope you like the photo - it's one I took today.

I'm sure the sun is getting closer.

No bra required

As promised, here is a photo of me dressed as a woman (I'm on the right of course)during a little performance I was involved in on Friday night. The good news is that I didn't have to wear a bra. The bad news is - well, that's quite obvious from the photo really. Well, the show went very well and was seen by about 200 punters / victims who helped us raise £150 for charity, which was great. I can't tell you much else for legal reasons / protection of the innocent. Suffice to say, it wasn't exactly suitable for anyone under 18. Or over 18 for that matter. I learnt a phrase which I'd never heard before. And I'm 40 for God's sake. It's a sick world we live in, that's for sure.

Fun though isn't it?

Thank you Secret Santa

I don't know who he or she is but I love them. If you don't know what Secret Santa is, it's one of those stupid ideas that got made up by someone, once upon a time that is still around now. And actually, it's not so stupid, it's actually quite nice and even good fun.

The idea is simple. At your place of work you pick a name of a colleague out of a hat, buy them a pressie worth about a fiver (or more if you work in London or Haverford West), wrap it and lob it in a box. On the big day, someone dresses up as the big, fat jolly fella and hands out the gifts. The thing is though, no-one knows who has bought which present. It's all very exciting, especially as some people get crap presents and others get truly wonderful ones.

Well, guess who got a wonderful one? Moi. Oh yes indeedy. I got a Birmingham City scarf and how chuffed was I? Very, extremely a lot chuffed. It's something I've been meaning to get for years as my old scarf died when I was about 16 and ever since I've always felt a bit naked in the neck department so this was the perfect gift. The only downside is that as I don't know who bought it for me, I can't thank them. Maybe they'll read this and then they'll now how really grateful I am. I wonder what I'll get next year?

Birmingham City pants maybe?

Too busy?

Aaaarrggh! My God, I can be so unreliable sometimes. OK, enough of me going on and on about not posting much at the moment. I did say this would be the case a while ago, so in my defence, I did warn you, dear readers. There, I feel better now.

So Christmas is nearly upon us again. I feel a tad guilty as this year, a large proportion of the presents I've bought have been purchased either via the wonders of the Tinterweb or have been the 'safe' sorts of presents that require little or no planning / tortuous trips to every shop in town. However, I actually know that these gifts will be just what people want ... er, I hope so. Oh well, everyone finds a portable toilet seat warmer useful. Don't they?

I promised I'd give you some detail on some recent events. One of these was (one of) our office party(s) that we had at lunchtime last Friday. There was the interesting mix of extroverts, show-offs and professional drinkers on our table whilst all the other tables housed accountants, council workers and solicitors. We stuck out like the proverbial 'sore thumb' which is exactly the way I like it. God we were loud, especially when we won, by some miracle, the obligatory, festive 'pub quiz'. There were rumours that we had cheated by using Google on someone's mobile phone but the solicitors were obviously a bit crap as they failed to make the allegation stick. Ha!

The highlight of the whole 'do' was the drunken version of 'Oops Upside Your Head' performed by some of our most esteemed staff in front of a hundred or so stunned onlookers. This was at 2pm. That's 2pm. It's just a shame I had to go to work afterwards. On second thoughts...

If you can bear it, I'll be back soon with more excitement and tales of wonder from my fabulous world. Oh yes and in response to a comment - no I'm not the burly copper. I'm also not a cross-dressing, Welsh hermaphrodite with a penchant for pink leotards and lemming milk.

Sometimes I worry about me. This is one of those times.

ELF Cup update 4

I told you this tournament was going to be good. For some reason the Elf Cup chaps have been a tad remiss and not posted any of today's results. I hope there's not been a major catastrophe like the team bus breaking down, or the security bloke at the stadium forgetting to unlock the gates. So, it looks like you'll just have to wait for the big Greenland v Kyrgyzstan result a bit longer.

I just have to say that I absolutely love today's photo. Feel free to click on it for a wonderful, larger version. The picture is of a highly 'talented' Gaguazia player er, tackling a little Greenlander. I have never seen anything like it in my entire life. What the bloody hell is he doing? Mind you, the Greenland player doesn't exactly look like Ronaldo either. In fact they both look like they've just been told that the ball is packed with dynamite and are desperate to get away from it. The Gaguazian chap actually looks like he may have pooed himself with fright! Oh, this is so immature but I'm laughing as I type this ... sorry ... oh dear.

Aside from the super ELF Cup (click on the title of this posting to take you to more fabulous photos from the tournament), I've been training new staff this evening. I always feel sorry for new staff because training, no matter how hard you try, is nearly always a turgid affair. I do try and make it more exciting but sometimes I try a bit too hard and then people just stare blankly at me. However, that didn't happen tonight and I think it all went well. Perhaps the next time I see them, I can tell them all about Greenland's marvellous 'Polar Teddy Bears'.

It's blank stares again isn't it?

Posting poorlyness

What a bizarre title for this posting. I apologise. I was trying to convey two points in one phrase. Clearly it hasn't worked. Oh well. Anyway, the 'posting' bit is a way of saying I'm sorry at the slightly less-than-regular postings this month. Can't really give a reason why but suffice to say that guilt is my constant companion as a result. I shall try and rectify this although I shall give you fair warning that things may well get worse on this front over the next 8 weeks or so as I shall be extremely busy at work. I trust you'll stick with me. OK, please stick with me!

The second bit of the title refers to me feeling a tad under the weather and before all the women reading this, collectively shout "Man flu!" - it bloody well isn't. I'm genuinely not feeling especially magical and even came home early from work today. So there. If you're reading this in some warm and sunny part of the world - I hate you. Well, not hate. That's a bit disingenuous. Perhaps I should just say that I wish I was there and then maybe I wouldn't be feeling so cack. Oh the joys of England in the winter. Mind you, it could be worse.

I could be in Greenland.

Sleepwalking

A guy I work with told me something amazing. He apparently sleepwalks from time to time. However, when he was at college he also had a few part-time jobs which meant he was getting extremely tired.

One night, he collapsed in his grotty, student-style bed. When he woke up, he was on the bus; on his way to college; fully dressed and with his rucksack over his shoulder. Now he swears this is true and if so, it is really unbelievable.

It reminded me of a show that was on telly a couple of months ago which was basically about people who had billy-bifters (sex) whilst they were asleep! Seriously, how wrong and bizarre is that?

Mind you, it saves on the cost of a romantic meal I suppose.

Pigeonhole

Here's a new meaning for the word 'pigeonhole'. Yesterday, a pigeon smashed into a window where I work. Nothing special about that you may think but wait - the pigeon actually smashed the first pane of double-glazed glass with his head! The second pane managed to stop him dead. However, he pulled his head out through the hole in the first pane and managed to fly away. He must have been well-hard.

Admittedly, he was fantastically concussed but he survived the ordeal. And the best bit? There's now a hole in the glass which is exactly the same size as a pigeon's head! I think that's just brilliant. I'll get an actual photo as soon as I can.

Now that's what I call a pigeon-hole.

Second class mobiles

I bought a new mobile phone on Saturday. A simple transaction I would have thought, especially as I knew which phone I wanted and as it was a 'pay as you go' phone, there wasn't even a lengthy contract to wade through.

However, I was surprised. If you're not buying a phone on contract, you're viewed by the big mobile phone companies as a second class punter. Here's why:

Carphone Warehouse- Once I'd said 'pay as you go' (PAYG) their interest in me evaporated. When I asked a sales assistant to assist me, he did so without speaking. Whilst I was examaining the phone he just stared at me. When I made a comment about the phone - he just stared at me. I thought he might have actually died.
I left the shop.
Company slogan "Get treated like a star at the Carphone Warehouse" Clearly not.

The Link- When I asked for a demonstration of the phone they said "we don't do demo's for PAYG phones". What?
I left the shop.
Company slogan "At the Link it's easy.." Unless you're PAYG.

Phones4U- When I pointed out that the phone I wanted, in their shop, was more expensive than in other shops, the sales assistant said "we don't price-match on PAYG phones" Je ne comprend.
I left the shop
Company slogan "Phones For You" But not YOU, dear PAYG punter.

I finally got my phone from my network's own shop. Orange were helpful, friendly and easy to chat to. They went through the new phone with me, switched all my contact and stuff on to my new phone and were just great. I didn't feel like a second class citizen. Other phone suppliers are available.

So why do some companies seem to value PAYG customers so little? Well the lack of a very healthy and contracted commitment would be the obvious reason. But there are millions of PAYG and to be honest, with service like I received on Saturday, I'm very glad that I don't have a contract with any of them.

Now I've got to go - my phone's ringing.

Replicating applications

Teeedious! I know application forms are important and a snapshot of someone's life and career, but boy are they an effort to wade through. I've been through ninety in the last two days and my brain feels like a pool of partially congealed gravy.

Please, don't get me wrong - I'm not saying anything about the people who are applying for the position we're advertising - it's just that wading through nearly a hundred forms of information is kind of brain-numbing, even for the most alert minded of people.

I need to just relax my brain ... by recalling the 'excitement' of seeing the Prime Minister yesterday. A few of us caught a glimpse of him as he swiftly made his way from the building he'd emerged from into his waiting Range Rover. True to form, I shouted "Alright Tone?" at him but, sadly, he must have not heard me properly because he disappeared into the car as fast as a rat out of an aquaduct.

I bet he's got an interesting CV though.

Dry clean dream?

Human nature is great. And it always surprises me how strange people can be whilst at the same time being very nice. If still a bit odd. Case in point - the other day I took my suit to the local dry cleaners (I promise, this really happened). It's an independent business and has just had a bit of a refurb.

Despite the refurb, the place still managed to exude an air of 1970's bed & breakfast mixed with 21st century technology. The place was empty but I found a small note Sellotaped to the counter which read 'Please ring the bell for atension' (yep, that's how it was spelt) next to which was a small hand bell which I was required to ring to alert the member of staff. I duly rang my bell ...

The 'mature'lady who appeared began talking to me as though I'd known her for thirty years. She prattled cheerfully on, telling me that her daughter worked there sometimes and that Asda's new dry cleaning service was £2.50 more for a suit than it was here. She managed to write most of my dry cleaning chit out (including dating it as September) before advsing me that they had just had a brand new dry cleaning machine installed. I politely expressed great interest in this news, which was a mistake. "Come and have a look" she said excitedly as she ushered me into the back of the building.

"Bit bigger than your usual washing machine isn't it me duck" she proudly announced before directing round the rear of the machine to see all it's pipes, valves and electrics. "German" she said as if the word 'German' explained it all. "Twenty five thousand quid that cost and it's the only one in England" she continued with pride. "Very good" I muttered before managing to creep back to the front of the shop where she finally gave me my receipt. "I hope I haven't bored you" she said. "Not at all" I lied as I began to retreat to the safety of the street outside. "I only work Thursday's!" she shouted after me. I smiled weakly and made good my escape.

I shall pick my suit up on Monday. Just in case.

Scissors

I can't find any damn scissors anywhere. Apart from at home bit that's irrelevent because I'm at work. I'm getting extremely annoyed because I'm certain all the scissors in our office have been purloined. How the hell am I supposed to trim bits of facial hair without any bloody scissors?

These are unacceptable working conditions.

Some things I forgot to mention

Blimey. Sometimes I'm such a numpty. A blog is supposed to be a regular update of ones life and the events therein. Now, those of you who've trawled through my various ramblings since last December, will be aware that I often go for weeks on end without submitting a post. Now although I have been a little more regular (not in the toilet department) recently, I've still omitted a couple of things from my posts. So here's a summary of them now:

1. My wife got a brilliant promotion at her work. I'm extremely proud of her and reckon she's just great.
2. England got knocked out of the World Cup by Portugal. I shall say no more for fear of legal action due to slander and/or defamatory remarks I may make.
3. Our cat slaughtered three birds in two days, leaving our back garden looking like the aftermath of a professional pillow fight. It was feathery hell.
4. It's been very hot in England for the last few weeks. I have even got used to the sensation of rivulets of sweat trickling into every crevice of my interestingly-shaped body. Picture that if you will.
5. Some of my chums have stopped emailing me. This could be because I've stopped emailing them. It's OK though. We'll just resume communication at some point in the future and there'll be no hard feelings whatsoever(unlike girls who get all upset and feel betrayed when this sort of thing happens). Chaps just carry on where they left off. It's a bloke thing.

That's the update then. Hope you found it as thrilling as I did. Mind you, I think I could do with posting items with a bit more edge to them. Perhaps a tad controversial or even bigoted? Hmmmm. I might just try it on my next one. Something dangerous, daring and socially unacceptable.

Like wearing a thong back to front.

Profeshinul Drinker

There's a bloke I work with who's a professional drinker. Now you've probably just conjured up an image of a haggard, leather-faced, bleary-eyed old alky. But you'd be sorely mistaken. The really amusing thing is (and he won't mind me saying this) is that he actually only looks about 15. I kid you not.

To prove the point about his youthful looks, he was recently on jury service. During a break in proceedings, he popped into to town to buy some food. As he was exiting a shop he was approached by a police officer who asked him why he wasn't in school. He replied, stating that the reason he was not in school was because he was twenty six years old.

So, back to his professional drinking. Although he has a home and a wife, he also has a second home. The pub. But he doesn't just have a drink or two in there, oh no. He pretty much stays as long as he wants and he has even slept over when the thought of a long and arduous ten-minute taxi ride home was too much. Better still, he sometimes serves in there as well. I remember him serving me several times one evening and then resuming his drinking once he'd poured my pint. Brilliant!

Now don't get me wrong. He's no alky. Well only as much as you or me ... maybe a teeny bit more but the thing is, he does it all with such laid-back style. You have to admire him. And the best bit? Yes, he has a bar tab. I've never in all my life managed to get a tab (you know, an account) at a pub. For that alone, he gets a gold medal for professional drinking.

Cheers to that.

Long fuse

Someone really, really angered me yesterday. I'm still extremely annoyed even today and can feel my wrath rising as I write. This is very unusual for me. True, I do develop mild road rage (call it road irritation) when I'm driving, but otherwise it takes a lot to rile me. I am blessed with a very long fuse.

However, yesterday just blew me away. I shall spare you the details but I will say that the person concerned was completely unreasonable and staggeringly rude. Now I didn't react to the situation. I remained calm and professional but was boiling like a kettle on a volcano underneath. Now I mention my lack of reaction, because although I have the longest fuse on the planet, when it goes, it goes.

When I was about six one of my classmates at school began trying to bully me one day. I was an extremely placid little chap but that day, my young fuse burnt right out. I smashed the child's head, several times, onto the sharp edge of a sturdy wooden bench. If I remember, the lad ended up with a couple of stitches on his scalp.

I've never so much as prodded another living being in anger, for the past 34 years. I came very close yesterday though. Now I'm nearly back to my usual relaxed (and wonderful) self and my fuse is still intact.

Until next time ....