Apprentice joy

I watch The Apprentice on the telly. For those of you who don't know, or are lucky enough to live another country, it's a sort of reality TV show where 'contestants' are chasing a dream job with a major international company. They spend what feels like 244 weeks being 'interviewed' by way of a myriad number of tasks and challenges, all designed to test their business acumen, leadership qualities and decision-making skills.

Unfortunately, most of them are tossers.

OK, that's a little harsh, but I wanted to raise a laugh early on. None of them are tossers. Well some of them are. Actually most of them have an 'air of the tosser' about them to be honest. We're on about the fifth series now and I'm constantly amazed at the staggering levels of ineptitude, arrogance and well, tosser-ness which they manage to display. There have been some monumental examples of stupidity. One that springs to mind was from an earlier series:

"I'm outstanding in everything I've done," lawyer/artist/tosser (allegedly) Nicholas de Lacy-Brown assured us in the opening episode. However, Nick's wide and varied life experiences clearly didn't include selling lobsters - a grave omission that saw him offloading £20 crustacea for the cut-down price of a fiver in London's Chapel Market. He totally cocked up on his maths and flogged all this top-notch aquatic grub for practically nowt. And this was a man/tosser who was earning shed loads of cash in his chosen profession. How the hell do these people do it? Let's not forget that these people must have got their amazing jobs by either luck, nepotism or by shagging the boss.

I'm sure you all have your favourite examples of unbelievable idiocy from the show, but surely who could forget, as part of the Marrakech task when the two teams had to find items in the city's huge souk? A kosher chicken was on the list. Michael, who called himself a "good Jewish boy" on his CV, didn't know what kosher meant and bought it from a halal butcher before getting the Muslim chap to pray over it, thinking that would be enough. I'm sorry but the word 'tosser' leaps from my fingers and onto this blog once again. You have to laugh though don't you? And so from this plethora of simpletons, Sir Alan (Brillo-head) Sugar must pick a winner to become a part of his uber-empire. Well, Sir Alan, when it comes to choosing a brilliant new apprentice, I have to say:

"You're fired".

Writers' block

I used to be SO good. My postings on YBATYD occured every few days. Then I had a break. Now I'm back, I seem to have lost my flow. What's that all about then?

Well it must be one of two things: 1. Absolutely bugger all is happening that's worth writing about, or, 2. Plenty is happening but I just can't put it into words.

This is clearly a problem for a blogger.

Perhaps I'm just trying a tad hard. Trying to come up with amusing, exciting and eminently readable stuff, when in fact, the mundane stuff is what actually turns out to be the funniest. I've just been looking back at some of my musings from my 'golden era' in 2006. I wrote about all sorts of crap and most of it was really quite amusing. So I'm hoping that will inspire me again.

It's not as if there's not been plenty happening in the world recently: wildfires in California, postal and rail strikes in the UK, famous people dying and the funniest thing ever on the telly. Hang on, that last one is a cracker..

... If you have never watched or even heard of Top Gear then I'd ignore this posting and go and have a cup of coffee or milk the cat. On Sunday's Top Gear, old Jezza Clarkson did one of the funniest things I've seen on telly. Jeremy introduced a almost unheard of 1950's car called the Peel P50. It was/is the smallest production car in the world. It's only 54"(137cm) long 41" (104 cm) wide. Jeremy decided to drive it to work. He is 6' 5" (198 cm) tall. I shall say no more other than this is brilliant television. Oh, and when I say he drives it to work, I mean he also drives it in work.

Enjoy

Daniel Corbett!

He is the most brilliantly berserk BBC weatherman ever. Notice his amazing and bizarre hand gestures, hear his fantastic tips such as "it's a two-hand-on-the-brolly-day today" and "so the extra-thick blankets on hand through the course of the night". A friend of mine at work does a great impersonation of him which always makes me laugh. Daniel Corbett - you gotta love him.

ELF cup update 1

I just know I'm going to love the ELF cup. If you're new to YBATYD, see the posting from 7th November and you'll get the idea. Well, the hot news is that Afghanistan have been booted out of the cup just days before it's due to start! Apparently it's due to pressure from FIFA. Now as the ELF cup exists specifically because the teams involved, are not or cannot, be recognized by FIFA it begs the question - why have FIFA got involved? Maybe because they want to welcome war-torn, politically unstable Afghanistan into the FIFA bosom? Er ... perhaps not.

The super-exciting / hilarious result of the Afghan withdrawal is that an urgent replacement was obviously required. And where else do you turn when you need a top-notch footballing nation to fill a gap? You turn to the 'Territorial Autonomous Unit of Gagauzia' of course. Yes, I can hear you now - "What and where the bloody hell is the 'Territorial Autonomous Unit of Gagauzia' ?" Well, just a few minutes ago, I asked the same question. Apparently, 'Gagauzia' as it's known is an independent bit of Moldova. Moldova is nestled between Romania and Ukraine. Hope you're enjoying the geography lesson.

OK, so Gagauzia are in the tournament. Unfortunately, there is little info on their footballing achievements. The only thing I've found so far is that they may have a little chap playing for them called Vladimir Zhenunk. Bless him. He's a midfielder and that's about your lot as far as my Gagauzian footie knowledge goes. Please feel free to give me some more info!

One other thing before I finish. I've just checked out the details on the Tibetan national side. Their record defeat was 4-1 against, yes you guessed it, Greenland (God bless those Polar Teddy Bears) but their record win is noted as - none. Oh bless the little Tibetan fellas. They have never won a game. Oh how I wish I were able to go to the ELF cup. Or even watch it on the telly - courtesy of BRT, a Turkish satellite TV station.

Perhaps I'll have a word with Sky ...

Oh go on!

One Day in History is a project aiming to create an online archive of a day in the life of the UK. The BBC website says "The National Trust is encouraging people to record a diary of their day on a website, as part of what is being called 'Britain's biggest blog'. The blogs will then be stored by the British Library and at other locations".

So basically, it's your chance to leave your mark on history. Your 15 minutes of fame if you like. I've done mine and to be honest, it felt quite nice to be contributing to a fairly momentous event. So I think it's a great opportunity for everyone to have their say and let the world know what dull lives we all lead. So just click the title of this posting and it'll take you straight to the site.

Go on. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on ... (etc to fade)

I wish my blog was famous

Yes, I know it's a bit sad but I'd love to have a famous, well-known blog. I'd even like to know how many regular readers I have. I know of a few loyal followers of my inane drivel (thanks to you - you know who you are) but who else reads my rambling waffle? Maybe I should write more interesting, controversial stuff. Or maybe I should drone on about social injustice; religous disquiet or political subversion?

Oh bugger it - I'll just keep posting stuff about manky trees, Homer Simpson and ... the smell of wee! Actually it's just come to me. Why does your wee smell of Sugar Puffs when you've eaten Sugar Puffs? If you don't know what they are then you'll just have to believe me when I tell you this is, indeed, the case. It doesn't happen with any other foodstuff. I don't recall my tiddle ever having the odour of a cinnamon bagel or spicy vegetable pasty. So why the sugary breakfast cereal? It really is a mystery and the sort of thing that keeps my brain ticking over. Actually, that's a rather worrying admission. My cognitive thought processes are kept stimulated by cogitating the science behind the causes of cereal-related wee smells. Surely there's more to me than that?

Obviously not.

Pie in the Sky

Sky's excellent satellite television broadcasting; wonderful customer service and cutting-edge technology all make for a first-class reputation. That's why we've had Sky for years and it's been a really positive, value for money experience. So when Sky announced, in the summer, that they were going to introduce a broadband internet service - I was at the front of the queue.

Alas, now I have left the queue and don't plan to return anytime soon. I registered my interest back in July and by August I'd received an invitation from Sky to get my broadband from them. I called them on 24th August and did the necessary which included giving Sky my migration (MAC)code from my existing supplier - BT. A week later I had a letter from Sky saying there was a problem and to give them a call.

I called Sky on 4th September and was told that my MAC code had been rejected. I offered to provide it again but was told I didn't need to - it would be submitted and everything would be fine. I was told that there were problems getting the routers (like modems) out to people. Again, this would be fine as it would be chased and I would receive it soon. Great.

By the 1st October, I was becoming just a teensy bit cheesed-off as I'd neither received or heard anything in the past 4 weeks. I rang Sky. It transpired that after my call on 4th September, nothing had happened to my order. Nowt. Zero. Nil. Zilch. Bugger all. It also transpired that the reason my MAC code had been rejected was because it had been entered in lower case instead of upper case. This should have been known by the staff apparently. The router was never chased.

Surprisingly I decided to cancel my order - well, my non-order. I also asked if the forty quid I'd forked out for the privilege of getting Sky broadband, could be given back to me. The chap on the phone admitted that they were having problems with people's orders and that mine had been "a catalogue of disasters". Encouraging.

So I'm still with BT, who, I must point out, have always provided a great broadband service for me. The only reason I wanted to change was due to cost. £15 a month from BT versus £0 from Sky. So Sky were offering broadband for free. However, as they say: "You get what you pay for" and I sure did.

Sky's broadband cost nothing and I got nothing.

Man-o with Nano

Great news. My father-in-law is 60. No, that's not the great news. The great news is that he's just taken delivery of a shiny new iPod Nano. It's his first foray into the world of portable digital music and I think he's just a tad excited.


I'm a big fan of 'silver surfers'. You know, the older generation who are taking on the challenge of using today's technology. However, it's surprising how many of the younger generation are not au fait with wi-fi, contention ratios, cache-emptying and even Sky Plus. So anyone of more mature years who really gives technology a go is alright by me.

A good example is my mum. She is, let's say, a fair way beyond 70 but she is a demon texter and loves pressing the old red button to get BBCi on her Freeview. This may all seem easy, obvious and commonplace but if you were over 60 when mobile phones first came out, just imagine how alien a concept they would seem when you had been used to two cans and a piece of string for communication.

So now my father-in-law has a Nano. I've already introduced him to iTunes and digital photography so now I want him to visit the land of playlists, album art and podcasts. I get the feeling he's like a kid in a candy store at the moment, which is great. I thought he would take ages deciding exactly what MP3 player to buy because he does like to take his time when it comes to electronic purchases. I think it took him about 18 months to decide what sort of new PC to buy. Bless him. At least he's redeemed himself now with his speedy Nano purchase.

I just hope he can switch the bloody thing on.

Captain Pugwash lives on

Ahoy there me hearties. Well things are good. Especially when the young children of today are, for some unfathomable reason, introduced to kids shows of yesteryear. Yes indeedy dear reader. My wife and I were availing ourselves of our local Tesco when I espied a fantastic sight - see the photo. Yes, it was a Captain Pugwash kiddies ride!

Not only was it a Pugwash ride, but the evil Blackbeard was also there - see the photo. So well done to Tesco for keeping old kids TV shows alive and kicking (subject to payment of 50p) and allowing a brand new generation of little 'uns to experience the joys of proper childrens's programming.

Excluding Andy Pandy, which was crap.

The Simpsons - I changed my mind

I used to hate The Simpsons. I don't really know why but I did. All my friends were perplexed at this as they felt my sense of humour would tie in perfectly with that of the Springfield Satirists.

However, I detested the show; found it unfunny and overrated. Then I began watching it. Not out of choice, but duty. My wife loved (and still does) the show and so I would insist to her that I actually quite liked it and encouraged her to watch it whenever she wanted. This is known as 'above and beyond the call of duty'. I watched show after show. Each time hating the characters and the weird storylines more and more.

Then, one day I laughed at something Homer said. From that point I began to look forward to seeing the fat, balding, mid-life-crisis-ridden, white, middle class bloke ... hold on. I was looking at myself! I realised that Homer was my spiritual twin, my Obi Wan Kenobi, my towering lighthouse, illuminating my passage through a dark, wild and storm-tossed sea. Joy unlimited. Homer was and is the key to why I now love the Simpsons and all it stands for.

So I proved to myself that you can change your mind and your opinions about anything if you just give it a chance. Anything at all.

Apart from beetroot. And Pontius Pilate.

New Year's Day

Hooray! It's New Year's day 2006. The weather is calm, the streets are quiet and ... in fact, it's just like any other Sunday. So it seems a little strange that there was such revelry and joyful celebration last night. Well, that's New Year I suppose. Wouldn't it be rather funny if we celebrated the arrival of every Sunday like this? It would certainly be horrifically expensive and I reckon, after the first 3 or 4 we'd all be dreading Saturday nights. I'm not quite sure where this particular posting is leading other than to prove that you can make any day 'special' if you truly believe there's a valid reason. Or you're told there's a valid reason.

Years ago, some friends and I decided to have Christmas day in the middle of August. We had a full Xmas dinner - turkey and all the trimmings; crackers; decorations and even Xmas TV shows which we had on video. Now I'm sure the vast quantities of alcohol helped, but we really believed it was Xmas day - depsite the bright sunshine and high temperature outside. And the really strange thing is, it was one of the best 'Xmas' days I've ever had. And it was August.

Makes you think doesn't it?