Detective Sergeant Albert 'Charlie' Chisholm

It's funny isn't it, how time plays tricks on your memory?...You're the most popular lad in class until an ex-school mate you meet up with 20 years later reminds you were the school punch bag; You're a great lover until you bump into someone, who knew someone who knew your ex-girlfriend who informs you she's rated you lower than the fumble she had with her cousin when she was 15; You're a scholar, a footballer, a poet or writer, an intellectual a whatever, until you try to play football, write a poem or letter, charm the pants off or make love to someone only to discover that, in fact, you're a talentless useless tosser who should frankly know better!....


All this is by-the-by of course, the days of me surprising myself with my own limitations are long gone. No. what surprised me last night was, while watching Minder was, you think you know a much loved and remembered telly programme of yesteryear, only for it to rise up and kick you in the nuts, your memory nuts. Last night, there was Arthur Daley right, getting himself a new suit in Savile road, before lunching with an old friend in a swanky restaurant in town before going onto his central London offices!...Eh?...Hang-bloody-on-a-fucking-minute!! Where's the car lot?...where's Dave an his illegal boozery?...Where's Mr Chisholm, Where is West London for that matter?!....dazed and confused I watched on, double taking at Arthur's posh, yes, posh voice, wondering if I dreamt my childhood? whether it's been robbed from me (if only)...Christ, even Terry's fight scene was pathetic, I could bloody 'ave him, any day!...All became clear at the end, as it always does, with the date stamped on the credits, ahhhh....an early episode, must be 1979, first series. But last night shook me I tell ya, ruffled me bad, slept badly. the whole shebang.

Video Island

Dunno if I've mentioned this, but i've joined a video club, and over the last few weeks have watched loads of films. Last night I had the misfortune to sit thru The League of Extraordinary Gentleman, utter and complete shite! bad dialog, crap special effects, wooden acting....jeeeez....and i only joined because I could rent European art flicks from here, which I cannae do at my local video rental place in Ware...some of you may suspect "European art flick" actually reads porn....and you'd be quite right of course, where I could I've tried, and so far failed, to order "Baise-Moi"and "Irreversible" to name a couple, World Cinema they call it, but all I'm getting are my other film choices...ah well, they'll come, i know they will...i love art me. i do.
Bank holiday weekend coming up and I'm booked to work right thru, gonna be handy the money i tell ya, a wee camping holiday coming up at the beginning of June and a Greek one at the end and already I'm overdrawn and I've only just been paid....groan.
Old college mate called me up Monday, during Star Trek - Enterprise I'll add, i tell ya, next week, the phone's being turned off!...Hey mate! long time no hear etc, why you not call me etc...come see us bla bla...I mail you the directions, you come!!...this was Monday, an earful I got, and has he emailed me?...has he fuck, what?...mail me for Christ sake and I'll come, I dunno, some people, so touchy.

Three weddings and a funeral

Not a bad weekend, had a good turn out Friday night, I counted 15 people at one point, so that has to be good...ended up semi-pissed, so managed to get home and into bed without any major difficulties. Me mates are all dead excited about getting married this year and it was all they could talk about. I kept silent throughout of course, not wanting to piss on their parade like. Getting married is a huge step, a life long commitment and I'm just not sure these boys realise that yet....for them it's still all about parties, stag do's, one last fling with some strumpets if they get half a chance! oh yes, these lads don't know half of it....the lonely nights, the screaming kids, the poverty, the mess the...well, I won't go on. Happily I have an invite to all three weddings, so I'll have to dust my only suit down and polish me shoes...no...wait a minute, I got that a little wrong, back-up a bit, let me re-phrase that last bit...I'm NOT invited to all three weddings, yeah, that's it, I remember now, not one fucking invite!...me mates see, me best mates...yah, thass right. cunts.

(cough)
Saturday, went to Knebworth park, £20!!!!, for a family day out in the sunshine, lovely, pick nick and play all day. the smashers loved it.
Sunday, came to work to pick car up, then to my sisters for a couple of pints before coming home for a couple more and lazing in the garden. Telly last night, well, Minder innit, gotta be and there's Arthur slagging of the newly introduced game of Pool, in his local, never catch on he says, what's wrong with good-old-fashioned snooker says Arthur?...and I have to say I agree, what's wrong indeed?

Fast lane. Slow lane

I suppose it had to be done, after all it is right there on my doorstep! tempting me like, and I am a weak man, it's true, easily tempted in matters of the body. Oh yes! yesterday I joined the Gym, £42 per month - Keeeerrrrr-ching!!..silver membership no less. I'm thinking, well look, there's no way on earth I'll ever set foot in there, but to NOT join would be crazy! right?. Actually, this morning, 5:15am to be precise, I'm up and in the bog, cleaning my teeth whilst pooing, who says it's difficult doing two things at once?...and I'm out the door and driving south by 5:40am...40 minutes later, yes...40 minutes, I kid you not, I'm changing into my Speedo's and making a big splash in the Olympic size pool they have here...40 lengths later, totally buffed up, I'm at my desk bright as a button, ready for the day...bowl of Alpen, hey! did you know they put sugar AND salt in Alpen?! so much for the healthy alternative eh?...yah, so...should be lookn' fine for tomorrow's drink-up. Details.
Rugby Tavern
19 Great James Street
WC1N 3ES

By the way, bathroom is now done. pictures to follow.

Stoooopid bloody I.T. keeps breaking down, still, gives me time to write this crap

In twenty years time or so, the smashers will look back to 2003 and think, wasn't it fun, those weekends, with daddy and mummy, mucking about it the garden, going to Van Hague's and riding on the train...shopping then going for a MacDonald's treat, but for me, right now, it just sums up my weekends. Add rain, Kids TV and screaming and you've pretty much got my weekends down pat. This weekend, we went for 2 pints in the sun Friday evening. Saturday the missus got her hair done and it looked great, she was dead chuffed 'cos the hairdresser had actually managed to get it how she wanted it, long and straight...it was all in aid of a girls night out was going on that night...I admit feeling a little vulnerable as she descended the stairs that evening looking great! me in my sloppy tee-shirt and gym-jam bottoms half way thru my bottle of red for that night...and when she bent to kiss me goodnight, just pecked me on the cheek so'as not to smudge out...Off to Chicago's in Bishops Stratford's no less...Sunday, I did the early shift as she got her hangover under control under the duvet. Then we went to buy an engine toy at the early learning. That's it.
This week is pay week! yay!! and Friday it's a night out with the boys in town, details to follow.

Where did you last see them

I get home Tuesday night then and the family have set up my birthday surprise, cake, balloons, fancy table cloth, the lot! and sing me happy birthday. nice. very humbling. I then rip into my presents, a pair of cufflinks (?) and a do-it-all remote control!...perfect, no I can extend even less energy when watching TV than ever before. Oh Yes, before the Kameleon Remote Control my life was a complete misery, juggling 4 remote controls at once, trying to keep them away from the baby smasher's gooey mouth and food encrusted fingers...now they're all his! so long as I have my Kameleon I is a happy couch potato.

Yesterday I get to work, only to find I'd left my keys at home, nightmare, me the first one to work and I cannae get in, so I call the boss and explain that I can't get some critical work out for 8:00am cos I'm a complete waster. He not impressed of course, and slighted, I go get me a MacDonalds breakie muckMuffin' to cheer myself up. Already, I had had a nightmare car parking fiasco in East Finchley, eventually parking about a mile away from the tube, and now I'm locked out of the office, the only day that week I'm the first to arrive n'all! But what's this? MacDonalds are now also an internet cafe! and for £1 I can surf for an hour! Brilliant, saved! I can do the work from here I'm thinking...so I buy a ticket, log on, and try unsuccessfully to navigate my way round the Net but MacDonald's have re-arranged the browser and keyboard to limit how people surf, no cut and paste available, no Control key, no multiple browsers, no porn forfuckssake!!!

I get home later that evening, after spending 2 hours in a traffic jam on the North circular, don't ask, it was just one of those days where every choice I made was the wrong one. I'm looking for my keys now right?, not on the side board, not in any coat, or in the door, or under the sofa's or under the bed, or in the bin outside (yes, I had it all out on the garden deck)...fuck me, where the fuck are they?! I call work, ask a mate to have a look in my drawer. nope. Jesus, all the while smashers trying to tell me about his day, then gets caught up in my hunt, signing about daddy's lost car keys..NO SON, MY FUCKING HOUSE KEYS!!...don't swear at him, it's not his fault, says the missus...Oh Christ I am stressing here i tell ya...You looked in the key box with the rest of the keys? says the missus...Of course I bloody haven't, says me..ohbollocks! what a day, what a wanking day!!

The Shootist

Today is my birthday! How I ever got to be 37 I don't know. This morning. I'm up like an excited child, ripping open my present from the in-laws, I couldn't wait till tonight when I get to open all my other pressies...so there I was, can you see me?...hair wild, eyes gooed up with sleep, 5:30am and suddenly depressed when the wrapping reveals an M & S white work shirt!...nice, not only did I NOT ask for an M & S white work shirt, I don't actually NEED an M & S white work shirt...unless they're trying to somehow encourage me to go to more interviews like, and get out of here mebbe?...could be, at least it shows someone cares for me eh?...at least it isn't another kick in the teeth, another rejection, another snub...at least it's something nice for a change. poor me. Mind you, I'm tempted to start looking about, this new commutes a killer, an hour drive to West Finchely, park up on the street, and a £4 return ticket and half an hour tube journey to Kentish Town. Nice. Yesterday I'm wandering around the town looking for some free off da road parking, but came up empty, Camden Council have got their borough locked down tight. Happy birthday to me.

Please leave a message after the tone

Last day today in these crummy offices in North Finchley. In one way I'll be glad to leave here, the layout is a mess, the offices too small, everyone seems to have it's own fetid smell, a mixture of peoples perfume/aftershave, manky clothes, food, drink, dust and Christ knows what else. The new offices are open planned so the smells should be less. In another way though, I'll miss this place, no...no I won't, that's a complete fib, what I meant to say was I'll be more pissed off with the extra drive and the fact that I have not got a parking permit. These two things will turn my world into a nightmare, even more of a nightmare I'm currently in...this will be a whole new level of nightmare on elm street stylee reality...hmmmm think I'm mixing up me metaphors a little, but you get the point. I is not happy.
Last night, thumping headache, think I'm getting the beginnings of it again already this morning....managed to watch an episode of Minder last night, why do I do it?...dunno, fascinated by how the world looked 20 years ago and their take on the future. Last night Arthur was trying to flog answering machines and everyone was guffawing like mad, and who could blame them, the thing was twice as big as the phone!...Next week Arthur tries to sell Dave, the barman, a mobile phone. and everyone guffaws.