Friday, September 29, 2006
Cloak and dagger
I’m gonna look back on this summer and think, this was my Dahon D7 summer, the summer I peddled back and forth to Peckham, day after day, listening to Wogan on my radio make mockery of the world cup, cycling through the hot hot sun, turning up to work, sweating like the fat bastard I am but feeling great because I was doing something about it and saving the planet to-boot! – All a memory now, as yesterday I met my ebay buyer at Liverpool Street station and handed over my bike for £200. nice. Bye bike, ya fucker! All very cloak and dagger stuff, I said I’d be outside McDonalds, holding a copy of the FT under my left arm and wearing a red carnation in my right lapel. And standing next to a Dahon D7 bike, to clear up any lingering doubts. Sure enough, he walked straight passed me; I swear I’d make a good spy; the way people ignore me, especially bar staff. Any-hoo, he looked like he was looking for someone, so I approached him god-damnit, and the deal was done. Sigh, I sort of miss it though but have my eye on something special to replace it, oh yes, but it’s not cheap, we’re talking £800 quid here folks, but she’s a beauty and I need her. The trouble, I know, is that once I’ve saved the dough, I’ll be like, Oh god, I could have 2 holidays with this cash, or I could buy that phone I’ve had my eye on, or that iPod I fancy…ah well, we’ll see if I can save that kind of money in the first place, doubtful, very doubtful, so why worry? - The Ware turn-off already warning me that if I ever managed to save that kind of money I could forget spending it on myself.
The reason I sold the bike was that from Monday, I move to my new office on London Bridge, so no need for the cycle anymore. The office is cramped and I’ll be sitting right next to my boss, nightmare! Today, because of the move, I’m “working from home” and it’s a bloody shame I’ve given up the booze, otherwise I’d be having a nice liquid lunch today.
The reason I sold the bike was that from Monday, I move to my new office on London Bridge, so no need for the cycle anymore. The office is cramped and I’ll be sitting right next to my boss, nightmare! Today, because of the move, I’m “working from home” and it’s a bloody shame I’ve given up the booze, otherwise I’d be having a nice liquid lunch today.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
The Ware turn-off
OK so, I got a little bit drunk Saturday night and why not? I’ve not seen my mate Doug for a year and it was high time we caught up. He lives about an hour up the M1, so not too bad, mind you, it's a long time without a white women, but you can't have everything....No excuse though for what happened that evening; mind you and it’s a lesson, as if I needed another one, in toilet etiquette, put simply, sit down to wee and poo. Always.
So, early evening and I’m beginning to steam a little, in a nice warm glow type way but this beer drinking plays havoc with my bladder, so not for the first time that evening, I take myself upstairs for a slash. Confident in my aim and trajectory by now I fish the beast from its cage and let rip, sploshing urine into the bowl with consummate ease, ahhh…hullo, what’s this on the shelf above the bog and I reach for it, Oh, yeah, nail clippers! Ace, lemme see here, clip clip, wow, nice action, clip clip…hmmm-hummm…clip…silence…Oh, right, I must’ve finished me pish and I look down to discover my monster has shrivelled somewhat and the arch of urine has collapsed to a free fall straight into and in fact all over my kegs around my ankles! Nice. Right, action stations, pretty embarrassing this as I pull my trousers up to inspect the damage, oh dear, full sweep across the crotch area…and down both legs…dabbing with some bog roll doesn’t help much so decide there’s nothing else for it but to change into my spare pair of pants I’d brought along for the following day, as we were sleeping over see, and wander back downstairs in my tee-shirt and pants to front it out, as it were.
Hey Steve mate, er, left something behind mate? No no Dougie mate, just er, had a little gentleman’s accident, it’s fine don’t worry about me…and to be fair on him and his missus, they pretty much carried on as normal from then on except when me mate put on some hard core porn later that evening on the tv and his missus, noticing my discomfort in my pant region, threw me a cushion to cover my stirrings…not that there was much to be honest, hammered as I was by then.
So, early evening and I’m beginning to steam a little, in a nice warm glow type way but this beer drinking plays havoc with my bladder, so not for the first time that evening, I take myself upstairs for a slash. Confident in my aim and trajectory by now I fish the beast from its cage and let rip, sploshing urine into the bowl with consummate ease, ahhh…hullo, what’s this on the shelf above the bog and I reach for it, Oh, yeah, nail clippers! Ace, lemme see here, clip clip, wow, nice action, clip clip…hmmm-hummm…clip…silence…Oh, right, I must’ve finished me pish and I look down to discover my monster has shrivelled somewhat and the arch of urine has collapsed to a free fall straight into and in fact all over my kegs around my ankles! Nice. Right, action stations, pretty embarrassing this as I pull my trousers up to inspect the damage, oh dear, full sweep across the crotch area…and down both legs…dabbing with some bog roll doesn’t help much so decide there’s nothing else for it but to change into my spare pair of pants I’d brought along for the following day, as we were sleeping over see, and wander back downstairs in my tee-shirt and pants to front it out, as it were.
Hey Steve mate, er, left something behind mate? No no Dougie mate, just er, had a little gentleman’s accident, it’s fine don’t worry about me…and to be fair on him and his missus, they pretty much carried on as normal from then on except when me mate put on some hard core porn later that evening on the tv and his missus, noticing my discomfort in my pant region, threw me a cushion to cover my stirrings…not that there was much to be honest, hammered as I was by then.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
It's all about decay now son, you, me yir brother...even yir mum...we're all dust in the end, first to go, ya teeth, then the hair, then the belly expand and you loose sight of yir knob...Hey! little smasher bastard wants ?1.50 for that tooth! I said, the tooth fairy dunt carry shrapnel son, you'll have to make do with a pound coin...ya cheeky cant-know-it-all-dunt-believe-in-facking-fairies-anyway. Oh, I know his game alright and if he's not careful I'll loose another tooth!
Sunday, September 10, 2006
GALACTIC!!!!
I’m just gonna do some house keeping here, catch-up with stuff so that it doesn’t get lost over time and I can’t find this point again, especially when I need to point score with the missus.
So, last weekend, I went to me mates house warming party, 3pm in north east London somewhere, weather shite, so was praying he’d call it off but he didn’t. Took a smasher with me for my early exit strategy, which was very useful as I arrived to an empty house, couple of his neighbours for a while, then his family…no mates as such…2 hours in and I’m bored and watching the England match in his bedroom…sigh…where did all the good times go?…Felt good that I turned up at least though.
Sunday and I’m arranging to meet my so-called mates in St Albans, I txt them and say I’ll be driving so wont be drinking but as they know I’m a boring and miserable wanker without booze, (and with it in fact) one so-called came and picked me up and promised his missus would drop me off later that night, so that I could get smashed along with them. 8 pints later and we’re saying goodbye to Dave while I had decided to stay on for the evening pub quiz. Bad move. Ended up far drunker than I wanted, didn’t contribute in any way to the quiz, and felt lousy the next day. But, good day, good to catch up with the gossip, not that I remember any of it of course…
System weakened by booze, immunity susceptible to virus, I catch the mother of all colds Tuesday. That night, I’m squelching, sneezing, coughing, burping and farting all night, mostly into the missus face, so that by 2.30am I’m thrown out of bed and told to die downstairs on the sofa. 6.00am comes and seriously, I’ve not slept a wink all night, so contact work and say I’m not coming in. I do the same Thursday morning. Friday, tempted as I am, I struggle in but wish I hadn’t – that night, I go deaf in one ear. Hate it when that happens. Watched mini series of the new Battle Star Galactica – wow! Brilliant, 3 hours of great sci-fi – can’t wait to order the complete series now.
Saturday, wandered into town, library, Tesco’s then sat in garden enjoying what might well be the last rays of summer. Go deaf in the other ear.
eh?
So, last weekend, I went to me mates house warming party, 3pm in north east London somewhere, weather shite, so was praying he’d call it off but he didn’t. Took a smasher with me for my early exit strategy, which was very useful as I arrived to an empty house, couple of his neighbours for a while, then his family…no mates as such…2 hours in and I’m bored and watching the England match in his bedroom…sigh…where did all the good times go?…Felt good that I turned up at least though.
Sunday and I’m arranging to meet my so-called mates in St Albans, I txt them and say I’ll be driving so wont be drinking but as they know I’m a boring and miserable wanker without booze, (and with it in fact) one so-called came and picked me up and promised his missus would drop me off later that night, so that I could get smashed along with them. 8 pints later and we’re saying goodbye to Dave while I had decided to stay on for the evening pub quiz. Bad move. Ended up far drunker than I wanted, didn’t contribute in any way to the quiz, and felt lousy the next day. But, good day, good to catch up with the gossip, not that I remember any of it of course…
System weakened by booze, immunity susceptible to virus, I catch the mother of all colds Tuesday. That night, I’m squelching, sneezing, coughing, burping and farting all night, mostly into the missus face, so that by 2.30am I’m thrown out of bed and told to die downstairs on the sofa. 6.00am comes and seriously, I’ve not slept a wink all night, so contact work and say I’m not coming in. I do the same Thursday morning. Friday, tempted as I am, I struggle in but wish I hadn’t – that night, I go deaf in one ear. Hate it when that happens. Watched mini series of the new Battle Star Galactica – wow! Brilliant, 3 hours of great sci-fi – can’t wait to order the complete series now.
Saturday, wandered into town, library, Tesco’s then sat in garden enjoying what might well be the last rays of summer. Go deaf in the other ear.
eh?
Friday, September 01, 2006
Sunglasses?...in a western?
One-step forward, two back right? That’s the way the cookie, as one of my mothers “boyfriends” used to always say, crumbles.
One theme, if you like, running through my life, over the last few years has been sunglasses, oh yes, you know what I’m talking about, you search for the right pair, get a pair, realise it’s the wrong pair, everyone says you look a cunt in them, you get another pair, you lose them or break them and so on, it’s a never ending circle or I thought it was until about three months ago when I stumbled upon a pair in town, I loved them, I wanted them, I planned to get them and eventually I did get them! By my standards, the most expensive I’ve ever bought, by anyone else’s, Cheap at half the price at £35.
They looked great on me too, everyone said so, it shed half a stone off me, easy. Any-hoo, the other day, I’m driving the family about in the Nissan Tino and it clouds over, no problem I thought, my Tino comes equipped with multiple storage areas, one very handy on the dashboard so I popped the glasses in the hole. Fast forward 3 days and I’m watching the morning breakfast programme on BBC and the weather bird is saying it’s gonna be sunny today, right I think, and I step outside to fetch the sunglasses to the car and where I know I’ve left them, but what’s this? Not there!! Hunt around, look on floor, in other storage areas, car door, glove compartment, even the sunglasses storage area above the drivers mirror!…hmmm…step back inside, shout up to missus…Where are my sunglasses?...I moved them the other day, they’re in the side door pocket on the divers side…she shouts down. I step out, re-double my search effort, nope, nothing, step in…shout up, panic rising in my voice…No!...not there, where you put them!!...She puts on her dressing gown and comes down, steps into the street, flings open all the car doors and stoops in but after a cursory rummage, no luck….Well, she says, they were there!...I know, they were there…until you moved them, now they’re not there, I say…but she’s not having it, she’s not saying, oh damn, they must’ve falling from the car door pocket when I opened the door, or whatever…she’s beginning to fight back, aroused now from her pit, she’s backed into a corner, gown flown open, bare breasted in the street, she’s snarling at me and I know I ought to retreat but can’t resists a parting shot across her bows, as I climb onto my Damon D7 folding bike, and peddling down the hill I turn around, squinting into the sun, I shout…Just find them, OR REPLACE THEM!!...No need to record here, her resonse.
One theme, if you like, running through my life, over the last few years has been sunglasses, oh yes, you know what I’m talking about, you search for the right pair, get a pair, realise it’s the wrong pair, everyone says you look a cunt in them, you get another pair, you lose them or break them and so on, it’s a never ending circle or I thought it was until about three months ago when I stumbled upon a pair in town, I loved them, I wanted them, I planned to get them and eventually I did get them! By my standards, the most expensive I’ve ever bought, by anyone else’s, Cheap at half the price at £35.
They looked great on me too, everyone said so, it shed half a stone off me, easy. Any-hoo, the other day, I’m driving the family about in the Nissan Tino and it clouds over, no problem I thought, my Tino comes equipped with multiple storage areas, one very handy on the dashboard so I popped the glasses in the hole. Fast forward 3 days and I’m watching the morning breakfast programme on BBC and the weather bird is saying it’s gonna be sunny today, right I think, and I step outside to fetch the sunglasses to the car and where I know I’ve left them, but what’s this? Not there!! Hunt around, look on floor, in other storage areas, car door, glove compartment, even the sunglasses storage area above the drivers mirror!…hmmm…step back inside, shout up to missus…Where are my sunglasses?...I moved them the other day, they’re in the side door pocket on the divers side…she shouts down. I step out, re-double my search effort, nope, nothing, step in…shout up, panic rising in my voice…No!...not there, where you put them!!...She puts on her dressing gown and comes down, steps into the street, flings open all the car doors and stoops in but after a cursory rummage, no luck….Well, she says, they were there!...I know, they were there…until you moved them, now they’re not there, I say…but she’s not having it, she’s not saying, oh damn, they must’ve falling from the car door pocket when I opened the door, or whatever…she’s beginning to fight back, aroused now from her pit, she’s backed into a corner, gown flown open, bare breasted in the street, she’s snarling at me and I know I ought to retreat but can’t resists a parting shot across her bows, as I climb onto my Damon D7 folding bike, and peddling down the hill I turn around, squinting into the sun, I shout…Just find them, OR REPLACE THEM!!...No need to record here, her resonse.
