Well, it all seemed to go well enough - a few slackers failed to show up, but not worth mentioning. I was my charming self, as ever, moving between groups of people with confident ease, a word of hello here, an arm round someone there, a dance, a song and moist kisses until I had to begin physically remove people who over stayed their welcome with a fuck off you cunt and don't ever come back ya bastard! Dunno who called the cops in the end, but that wasn't necessary..
Monday, July 16, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
Kim and Aggie
You remember what you were kids and you’d make a tape of music for a bird you fancied? – You know the kind of thing, Joy Division, The Fall…etc….hmm well, yesterday was the turn-off’s birthday and I thought, what can I give a women that has everything? How can I make her 40 years melt away with a wonderful, thoughtless gesture from me? So, having given it about a minutes thought, set about up-dating that time honoured tradition, by making her a CD from my growing iPod music collection. Simple, cheap and I don’t even have to go down the shops nor ought. I had to dress it up a bit with a CD jacket and some wrapping paper but Bingo! Job’s a good ‘un.
Tomorrow she’s having a party round the house and to stop me sulking and moaning that I don’t know anyone and refusing to make nice friends with her mates husbands etc she’s reluctantly agreed I could invite a few of my so-called mates. Not that they were wildly enthusiastic about being invited I have to say, under-whelmed is about right, but by hook or crook and by threats I’ve managed to get most of them to agree to come, not that that will stop one in particular from texting me like a coward tomorrow morning claiming his dad is dead or something to avoid the trip (20 minutes from Liverpool street).
Today, I’ve been cleaning the house in preparation for tomorrow, while the missus quietly seethes from the sofa, where’s she’s plonked herself today, because she thinks I’m undermining her and her cleaning regime. I am of course, the house is a sty and she knows it, but I have some pride and there’s no way I’m having any of her mates peering down our loo searching for poo stuck to the sides. I’m like those two from how clean is your house with the missus, the thin one really, who drags one of the home owners over to a particularly encrusted bit of poo or grime and shows them how, with a bit of toothpaste and candle wax, they can remove years an layers of shite. She’s not interested of course and refuses to come when I beckon her, so I just get on with it, with a sigh, naturally..
Tomorrow, I’ve made it perfectly clear to anyone who’ll listen that my optimum time, when I’ll be at my most convivial, will be between 1-3pm after that I’ll slowly turn nasty drunk, then crying drunk, before falling face down into the swimming pool with massive anal trauma and chocking on someone else’s puke – or, "in my wet dreams" as one mate as commented. Oh, how he knows me so well…
Tomorrow she’s having a party round the house and to stop me sulking and moaning that I don’t know anyone and refusing to make nice friends with her mates husbands etc she’s reluctantly agreed I could invite a few of my so-called mates. Not that they were wildly enthusiastic about being invited I have to say, under-whelmed is about right, but by hook or crook and by threats I’ve managed to get most of them to agree to come, not that that will stop one in particular from texting me like a coward tomorrow morning claiming his dad is dead or something to avoid the trip (20 minutes from Liverpool street).
Today, I’ve been cleaning the house in preparation for tomorrow, while the missus quietly seethes from the sofa, where’s she’s plonked herself today, because she thinks I’m undermining her and her cleaning regime. I am of course, the house is a sty and she knows it, but I have some pride and there’s no way I’m having any of her mates peering down our loo searching for poo stuck to the sides. I’m like those two from how clean is your house with the missus, the thin one really, who drags one of the home owners over to a particularly encrusted bit of poo or grime and shows them how, with a bit of toothpaste and candle wax, they can remove years an layers of shite. She’s not interested of course and refuses to come when I beckon her, so I just get on with it, with a sigh, naturally..
Tomorrow, I’ve made it perfectly clear to anyone who’ll listen that my optimum time, when I’ll be at my most convivial, will be between 1-3pm after that I’ll slowly turn nasty drunk, then crying drunk, before falling face down into the swimming pool with massive anal trauma and chocking on someone else’s puke – or, "in my wet dreams" as one mate as commented. Oh, how he knows me so well…
Sunday, July 08, 2007
It's just the facts of life..there's no matser plan
Another week goes by, another job interview. This one based just around the corner from the last one, same money, seemed to be a lot more involved though, so naturally I’m shying away from it already. I got a very encouraging call from the agency on Friday, saying the guy really liked me, loved the cv, had only one other guy to interview but basically it’s all good. I’m like, uh-huh, that’s good, hmmm…great…right then…all the time thinking, how long can I string this on for until I have to say, actually, I can’t be arsed with it all, I’m staying put thanks mate.
Why do I do this? Put myself through it? The thing is, this job is 8-month contract and while everyone’s saying don’t worry, it’ll roll over onto the next financial year, I’m worried. Also, it’s outside my comfort zone, it’s something I’m not familiar with and I’m beginning to enjoy working where I am now, coupled with the fact they’ve given me a 2 increment pay rise – which is nice.
Last weekend I met up with a couple of so-called mates in St Albans – shitty day weather wise, but grand to be sharing my time with some old mates over a few beers, chatting about how our lives are moving on, or not, how great our sex lives are, or aren’t, how we see our relationships with our wives as equal and respectful in every way…or don’t as the cases may be. Speaking of respectful wives, mine literally picked me up after our days drinking and drove me, flat out in the back seat, home for my tea - now, not every wife would do that, right? A very nice day, spoilt only by my other so-called mate refusing to get onto a train and take the 20 minute ride up to see us. That was the last time I’ll drink in St Albans, as my friend is off to Oz in a few weeks time, or so he keeps saying. I, for one, will miss him, if he does manage to get on a plane and leave us. Miss him terribly…actually, I probably wont much, my life is too rich and full to be overly concerned with a peripheral mate, but you get me sentiment dontcha?
Why do I do this? Put myself through it? The thing is, this job is 8-month contract and while everyone’s saying don’t worry, it’ll roll over onto the next financial year, I’m worried. Also, it’s outside my comfort zone, it’s something I’m not familiar with and I’m beginning to enjoy working where I am now, coupled with the fact they’ve given me a 2 increment pay rise – which is nice.
Last weekend I met up with a couple of so-called mates in St Albans – shitty day weather wise, but grand to be sharing my time with some old mates over a few beers, chatting about how our lives are moving on, or not, how great our sex lives are, or aren’t, how we see our relationships with our wives as equal and respectful in every way…or don’t as the cases may be. Speaking of respectful wives, mine literally picked me up after our days drinking and drove me, flat out in the back seat, home for my tea - now, not every wife would do that, right? A very nice day, spoilt only by my other so-called mate refusing to get onto a train and take the 20 minute ride up to see us. That was the last time I’ll drink in St Albans, as my friend is off to Oz in a few weeks time, or so he keeps saying. I, for one, will miss him, if he does manage to get on a plane and leave us. Miss him terribly…actually, I probably wont much, my life is too rich and full to be overly concerned with a peripheral mate, but you get me sentiment dontcha?
