The Non-Stop Talking Machine

20 October 2011

Got up this morning and went through the usual routine and left in a timely fashion for work.  Walked down to the bus stop (yes I’m still a BW. You have to come off slowly) and arrived in good time for the bus.

Went to sit down in the shelter only to discover some little shit had nicked the seat.  Its bolted to the shelter and the ground and someone had gone to all that bother for something that won’t stay up without the bus shelter to support it.

Anyway I was shaking my head at the stupidity of some people when my day took an even bigger turn for the worse and a guy standing beside me spoke to me.  Now as most of you should by now know communication between BWs is not the done thing and whilst a mumbled “Little f***kers” or “I’d string em up” would be acceptable, this guy was asking me a question.  This constituted a conversation.  Its 7am for God's sake I don’t want to talk to anyone, least of all a BW.

He had to be a newbie and the only consolation was there was only the two of us at the stop.  I looked at him and nodded and before I had decided whether to answer him or not he had moved on to another topic and it quickly became apparent he was one of these folk who just like to talk and once started they are very hard to stop.  He started talking about the ‘Dale Farm’ evictions and as I have no real interest in politics nor would I consider myself racist or bias against any group I really don’t care what happens to the smelly gypo bastards so I just ignored him.

As I am sure you all know ignoring this sort of person has no effect what so ever as the only way to turn them off is to get away from them so I was glad to see the bus arrive.  I quickly boarded and plonked myself down in my usual back seat.  Chatterbox was indeed paying in cash which supported my newbie theory and was receiving the full grumpy routine from the driver (Supplier).  I settled down to read my Kindle when all of a sudden the son of a bitch sat down beside me and took up the one way conversation exactly where he had left off. 

Sitting beside another passenger when double seats are free is one of the most serious rule breaks there are and if it does happen it is assumed that the two people sitting together are related or at least friends.  I was, therefore, now directly associated with this non-stop talking machine by my fellow BWs.  My humiliation was complete. 

Believe it or not he talked the entire way into Belfast and I am pretty sure I never said a single word…………..  He stayed all the way to the last stop and alighted from the bus just in front of me and then turned to walk in the same direction I do.  By this stage I could take no more so walked in the wrong direction for 50yds to give him a head start.

Please God don’t let this day get any worse……………

The Great Bed Dilemma of 2011

19 October 2011

Ok the great bed dilemma of 2011 has been resolved and the dogs made the decision for us.

Couple of nights ago we were quietly lying in bed reading before lights out (that’s as exciting as the bedroom gets at our age).  Actually that’s not true we did play ‘Jack Change It’ once in bed but were then to over excited to sleep.

Anyway Riley our latest acquisition was lying sleeping and without even waking up or even moving did a wee as big as a flood right on top of us.  Thank God we were awake or we would have woken up in the morning drenched and poor ole Alfie would have got the blame based purely on previous convictions. 

So up we jump, duvet off, sheets off, duvet from spare room on, new sheet on, wet duvet in to the wash and back to bed.  Next morning up and getting ready when Alfie jumps up on bed and does exactly the same thing.  Unbe-f’ing-lievable.  So duvet off, sheets off, duvet from other spare room on, new sheet on, wet duvet in to the wash and heated discussion about putting the whole lot of them down.

Eventually decision made that they are banished to the kitchen at nights and that has been the way of it now for last 3 nights.  To be honest felt really mean to begin with but are now getting used to it and they have taken it quite well except for Riley, the instigator of their fate, who has now taken to sitting in the garden and howling like a wolf for half an hour after bedtime.

Anyhow the empty bed is quite nice and one of these days I might just build up the nerve to venture across to Al’s side and say “Hello”.......

Al is a BW

18 October 2011

Having trouble typing this morning cos I can’t stop giggling but more on that in a minute.

Firstly though wait to you hear this.  Remember on Saturday I called the girl who won my foreign holiday at the Casino Night a “Cheating, card counting, chip hiding son of a bitch”? Well turns out I was RIGHT.

She was there with a table full (10) of mates and a little bird on the inside has told me the bastards pooled their winnings to make one big winnings.  Technically not against the rules cos there really weren’t any but hey that can’t be in the spirit of the game.  Not back to work until tomorrow and as the whole thing was a charity ‘do’ and I’ll probably live without a weekend in Dundalk, I’m not going to make a fuss but I sure as hell am going to embarrass her through the grape vine..... “Burn the witch”.

Now for the reason for my giggling............

Al is at a course today and guess how she has to get there ................................. the bus.

She asked me yesterday if I could run her to this course and I asked where it was.  She told me and I knew there was a bus stop right outside it so suggested the bus.  A look of horror crossed her face but what could she say I do it every day hehe. 

Last night we had really bad weather and she asked if I would run her down if the weather stayed like this but I said I would take her to the bus stop.

Can’t wait to see her standing in all her fancy gear under the bus shelter trying not to accidently rub against any of the common folk.  If anyone speaks to her she’ll certainly faint and will undoubtedly put her hanky down on the seat before she sits down.  I will, however, lend her my bus pass so she doesn’t have to talk to the Supplier. How good am I?

So its official AL IS A BW..............................................................

Fish Artist

16 October 2011

I am to old for 2 nights on the drink in a row. I have no status today in fact today does not exist ...

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17 October 2011

Well what a weekend that was.  Got material for a week.  But no time today to tell you guys about it and definitely no room in one status.  That’ll please Stevie..........

What I will do today is introduce you to Jem Armstrong our latest recruit who we met at Pauline’s party on Sat. 

She had a broken ankle and was limping about in apparent agony when her Da was dancing around like a ballerina on ‘Es’ when he wasn’t.  Funny that.

Turns out she is very fond of dogs although was unaware they could talk.  She volunteered as a dog sitter so we put her through our educational interview as we can’t just have anyone looking after our babies.

She passed maths ok as she knew Pythagoras’ Theorem

Failed English cos she couldn’t spell Pythagoras.

Art was iffy.  She showed us her portfolio which included a page coloured pink.  When asked what this was she said the assignment had been to colour a page red.  We pointed out it was pink......she looked blank.  She did however draw a mean fish so she was granted the title of 'Fish Artist'.

Physics was ok as she knew F=MA although we weren’t really in a position to argue the truth of that.

French was acceptable and not a big issue as none of the dogs speak it.

General knowledge was poor and believe it or not she couldn’t actually work out how many subjects she was studying.  Impressive.............

The best one though and the one that shows she is worthy of joining this happy group was her answer to the question “Who is the leader of the opposition?”...................Answer “Ed Bin Laden” and I kid you not!!!

Anyhow welcome Jem............everyone say 'hi'.

First is a Winner Anything Else is a Loser

15 October 2011

Spent the last 8 days on a celery and baked beans diet in order to get into my suit for last night’s big ‘Casino Night’.  Failure was not an option as it would mean wearing a dress so I was delighted that, admittedly with some effort, I was able to get the trousers closed.  Breathing, sitting or pretty much anything was difficult but success none the less.

It was great night as it happens and as usual we won nothing in the various raffles etc.

The big prize for the person who won the most money in the Casino was a weekend in a hotel in Dundalk.  Technically that’s a foreign holiday and it was gonna be mine.

Myself and Al hit the blackjack table but Al quickly got bored and started trying her best to lose.  The funny thing was she couldn’t and every time she went ‘all in’ she won and our pot got bigger and bigger.  I started to look at other folks and saw no one had anything like as much as us and I sent Al to check the other tables and they showed the same.

We might win this sucker, fame and fortune here we come, we’re naturals at this.  Much to Al’s frustration I continued to play and eventually amassed £3000 from only £200.  I should do this for a living............

Anyhow the night went on and we saw no one winning anywhere near what we had and as the time came to announce the winner I started to rehearse my acceptance speech.  All the people I needed to thank, those that stood by me through the hard times, my parents for having me etc etc.

I was still debating whether tears would be appropriate when the announcement came.

“And second prize goes to............” I looked around for the saddo that lost out.  First is a winner anything else is a loser “............. Malcolm”

What!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  What the F***.  Some cheating, card counting, chip hiding son of a bitch had pipped us at the post.  Our dreams of foreign travel blown to smithereens in a matter of seconds.

Tears were now definitely appropriate but I managed to accept my miserable bottle of champagne with something approaching a smile and even applauded the bitch that won (although I did it as insincerely as I could.)

Any way it was a good night and maybe gambling’s not for us after all.

The BW Trilogy: Part 3

14 October 2011

So today the final part of the BW Trilogy and for all you folk who consider yourself normal, today I will let you into the life and thoughts of a BW.  Not always a pleasant place to be but may be it will help instil a little more tolerance and understanding which is all we really ask.  I have been disowned by my parents and mocked by my family and friends but I still believe it’s been the right thing to do.

The day of an average BW begins just like anyone else’s and as we leave our homes and make our way to the bus stop no one would know we were any different from the other pedestrians happily journeying to work.  People you pass nod or say hello and I often wonder what they would say if they knew what I was about to do.

Usually I go into the Spar shop where I can watch through the window to see who else is gathering at the stop and I always wait until there is a bit of a crowd before joining them as close to the bus due time as possible. 

Although it is usually the same people at the stop eye contact or any real form of acknowledgement is discouraged and there is a palpable tension in the air as the sign changes to say “Bus Due”.  By this time we all just want to get on board and away from the stares and sneering smiles of the passing motorists and when the bus finally approaches there is an almost audible sigh of relief.

There is often no immediate movement as the doors open as if everyone is reconsidering if they are doing the right thing.  Then almost as one we begin to move forward and in a surprisingly orderly and controlled fashion begin to board the bus. 

The driver, or Supplier as we call him, rarely glances our way and as most of us are addicts and have purchased multi trip cards we board quickly and quietly.  Occasionally some poor newbie may produce cash to pay for their trip and they are more often than not treated with derision by the supplier as it means he is forced to acknowledge them and a grunt followed by a heavy sigh is the normal response. 

Surprisingly Suppliers treat BWs, the source of their income at the end of the day, with undisguised contempt.  I have seen Suppliers watch some desperate BW running in the rain towards a bus and wait until they almost make it before closing the door and then driving off.  Leaving behind the wretched, sodden and exhausted BW to go cold turkey alone until the next bus arrives.

Once aboard the next issue is where to sit.  Those already seated will always make themselves as big as possible to avoid you sitting beside them and it is only in extreme circumstances where one would want to actually do that.  Conversation is the last thing anyone wants so people bury themselves in books or newspapers or pretend to be having chats on their phones.  The worst are those with iPods who insist on singing tunelessly to an unheard song and there is usually a large empty area in their vicinity.

Normally I would go to the back where I feel most secure as I can watch for anyone approaching and take appropriate action if they look likely to invade my space.  This would usually involve putting my feet on the seat in front of me and placing a bag on the seat beside me and virtually daring them to ask me to move either which they never do.  Seat belts are provided but must NEVER be worn as this would be construed as a sign of weakness and you would be openly laughed at.

The buses I use are double deckers and I often watch the younger BWs going up the stairs and wonder what goes on up there.  I have never built up the nerve to go up and investigate but they always appear to come down a little wobbly and spaced out so I think I will leave that mystery unsolved.  Maybe it’s something to do with the altitude. 

Journeys are usually uneventful apart from guarding your space, and the next point you need to be on the ball is as your stop approaches.  Suppliers don’t actually like to stop so it is wise to push the bell well in advance. No matter how many BWs are exiting each will push the bell at least once to be absolutely sure the Supplier cannot ignore them and of course in the hope of annoying him. 

The last challenge is the dismount which must be done quickly and the intention is to get off the bus and mingling with the pedestrians before anyone realises where you have come from and one should try to have a “Bus? What bus?” look on one's face. 

So that’s the journey done and you now spend the day contemplating the return and knowing that the cycle will continue unbroken…………………..

Now you have had an insight into the sad world of the BW.  I hope in some way you have learned something and I have helped to dispel the image which is unfairly applied to us.  Stereotyping is a terrible thing and whilst I accept all Chinese look the same, all Catholics say ‘H’ funny and of course all French people smell of garlic when it comes to BWs we are all individuals and all we ask is to be treated that way…………………………………………

The BW Trilogy: Part 2

13 October 2011

Hello and good morning to whatever friends I have left.

As you may recall I came out yesterday as a BW and as promised today I will recount how I came to find myself in this sorry position.  I hope you will not judge me but will learn from my mistakes and hopefully view myself and my fellow BWs with a little more sympathy and understanding.

It all began about a year ago when I got a new job as a Concierge (that’s a job with a French name by the way) with a city centre company.  I normally drove to work and sometimes cycled and all was good with the world.  But then one day fate conspired against me and one of our cars was in getting repaired, Alena needed the other and it was raining heavily.  How would I get to work?

Now I knew about BWs, obviously I had seen them huddled in there little groups as I went to work, but I had never paid them much attention other than to feel sorry for their plight.  A friend at work had admitted to me that he had once been a BW and although he had since sorted his life out he insisted that BW’s got a bad press and that their lives were not as abhorrent as society betrayed them.

I was tempted. It was only once. What harm can it do? If only I had known then what I know now.

I told Al I was going to get a lift from a friend and made my way, admittedly with some excitement, down to the bus stop.  There were already a number of BWs there but none looked my way and I moved in behind them in the hope that no one passing would recognise me.  The sign said the next bus was in 4mins and my excitement grew as the time ticked down.  What do I do?  Will I be accepted?  Once I get on how do I get off?  Will I have the courage to push the little bell thingy?  Will I be spotted as a newbie and be picked on by more predatory BWs?  All these and many other questions went through my mind.

Then suddenly the bus was there.  I expected a battling throng pushing and clawing their way onto the bus a snarling mass of humanity intent on feeding their craving and oblivious to anyone or anything around them.  In fact it was a fairly orderly queue and I followed behind watching closely to see what I should do and fearful of making the slightest mistake which would make me stand out from the pack. 

I will explain more tomorrow about the life of a BW and the rules which are unwritten and learned from experience but suffice to say I made it in one piece to my destination and alighted uninjured at my chosen stop. 

Initially I was euphoric and excited by the experience but then I became disgusted with myself and terrified Al would ever discover what I had done and I swore that it was a one off and never to be repeated mistake.  But as the day went on I began to crave the excitement, I wanted to feel the vibrations of that powerful diesel engine, I wanted the smell of the great unwashed in my nostrils, I wanted the sounds of a multitude of shouted mobile conversations and I wanted to put my feet up on the seats even though the sign says not to.

From there it was a rapid downward spiral.  I convinced myself I was just an occasional user and that I had control of it but as the days and weeks went by my usage increased until I was doing it almost every day sometimes twice. 

At first I stuck with Citybus and swore that’s as far as I would go.  But one day an Ulsterbus came to the stop first and as I watched some of my fellow BWs board this I just couldn’t stop myself and took that fateful step and climbed on to my first single decker.  I can honestly say I have only done it a few times but I have the constant urge and it can be a battle to control.  The worst I have ever done was a trip to Dublin airport and fortunately I didn’t really like it although many of my friends now do that habitually and a few of what we would call hardcore have even gone as far as Spain. 

When you reach that stage there is no turning back so I hope I have picked the right time to try and get clean and as I said yesterday this coming out will hopefully lead to a full recovery…………..

Tomorrow the end of the Trilogy with “Life as a BW”

The BW Trilogy: Part 1

12 October 2011

WARNING/APOLOGIES:

• Firstly a warning to ’Stevie’ who told me yesterday my status updates are to long so he should stop reading now.
• Secondly a warning to anyone easily shocked, offended or bored they too should stop reading now.
• And finally an apology to my Mother and Father, who I know read this, who should not blame themselves.  They did their best………..….obviously it just wasn’t good enough.

Ok folks today is a big day……….

It’s the day I declare to the world what I really am.  The day I throw off the harnesses of society’s perceived normality and accept the real me.  It’s the day that I regain some pride in myself and hopefully begin on the road to recovery.  The day I stop living a lie for fear of what others may think and stand proud as the person I am.  It’s the day I come out.………….. (Before Al, who for some reason is a bit pissed at me, outs me herself).

For my name is Malcolm and I am a Bus Wanker (hence forth referred to as a BW).  NB. Just to clarify a BW is a derogatory term for a person who uses the bus not W’s on the bus.

Many of you will, I am sure be shocked and no doubt my friends list will diminish as a result, but it is the 21st Century and although I am not proud of what I am we BW’s should be able to stand up and be counted and no longer stand hiding behind the adverts at the bus stop for fear of public ridicule. 

So yes I am one of those people you see huddled together like penguins wet and cold peering hopefully up the road for a bus that never comes.  I see your sneering faces as you pass by in your 4x4’s, your people carriers and your smart cars.  All warm and cosy with your iPods playing and your heated seats warming your fat asses.  When you see the icicles dripping from our noses and the wind howling through the broken windows of our bus shelters do you ever stop to think?  Do you see us just as part of the street furniture, as poor unfortunates who if they’d tried harder at school could have made more of themselves? 

Well we are humans too, we have feelings, and we have rights.  None of us asked to be BW’s it’s just one of those things that happens.  Maybe its peer pressure, a desire to escape, an inability to say no, or maybe just too cheap to get a car but once you start on this path it is a downward spiral.  But I believe I have reached the bottom I think the realisation that we were being forced into special lanes to keep us away from ordinary folk finally woke me up to how low I had sunk.

There are of course different degrees of BWing with those known as ‘Commuters’ being among the worst and this unfortunately is the group into which I fall.  I know my father used to do it but never talks about it and my mother actually used to take us with her when she did it.  All the kids have done it as well, although they think I don’t know, but fortunately only recreationally and let’s be honest we all experimented when we were young

So today I declare myself a BW and tomorrow I will recount how I came to find myself in this sorry state.  It may be too late to save myself but if my story can save just one other person than it will have been worth it…………………

Never Watch a Program With a Plot Line With a Blonde: Part 2

11 October 2011

Well a couple of nights ago we watched another 2 episodes of “Strike Back Project Dawn” which we had recorded.  As you may recall Al was not that good at keeping up with the plot on the previous occasion we watched this program and I was expecting a few interruptions in order for me to fill her in on what was happening. 

As it turned out it seems my exposing her on Facebook had had the desired effect and there was complete silence during the first episode.  I watched her, however, out of the corner of my eye and I could see periods of intense concentration mixed with looks of utter confusion and occasionally total bewilderment.

Still she kept quiet and we moved on to the next episode.  About 3/4 of the way through her composure finally cracked and she asked the following…..

Plotline: Hero is kneeling beside the man they were sent to rescue who is shot and dying on the floor.  Hero needs him to answer some questions but the man appears to go unconscious so hero shakes him shouting “Alan! Alan!”

Al. “Who is Alan”
Me. [Hit pause} “Well sweetheart I am gonna make a wild guess at this one and I may be wrong but I think it’s probably the guy on the floor he is shaking and shouting “Alan! Alan! at”
Al. {looks at me in silence for a moment then says} “You won’t put this on the internet will you”
Me. “Of course not darling” [hit play]

Everyone has a ‘Wicked side”

Sheep’s Eyeball and Donkey's Bollock Cake

9 October 2011

Forgot to mention that the other day I did the "Fiendish" and the "Super Fiendish" suduko in the times............How f***ing smart am I?!  Answers on a post card :-)

Because of my ill-fitting suit dilemma I decided, despite the consensus that I should go naked or wear a dress, to try and lose a bit of weight.

My diet for the week has been a small bowl of cornflakes and a banana for brekkie, celery as a snack, chicken and beans for lunch and a small dinner.  All is good.

Yesterday, at work, a Filipino family who are tenants arrived en mass at the office, that’s 6 in total. Their English is not good but they got it across they were celebrating their youngest child's birthday and produced a piece of birthday cake for me.  It was however not so much of a piece as half a birthday cake and they took great pleasure in handing this over especially the children. 

I thanked them profusely and did a sort of nodding bow and a little praying symbol and anything else I thought might be Fillipinoish and they did lots of nodding and giggling but very little going away.  I continued to say thanks and they continued to stand there and it soon became obvious they were waiting to see me eat the bloody thing.

I was a little dubious as for all I knew it was a sheep’s eyeball and donkey's bollock cake but I was on the spot so had to try it.  Well, as Ross would say, it was like licking the face of God.  It was absolutely de-flipping-licious and to their delight I ate the whole blooming lot.

Great for cross community bonding but crap for my waist line.  To add insult to injury I am now just back from a big fry at the “Pit Stop” with Mama and Papa (they made me do it honest).  Could end up in a dress yet........................

Dilemma No.3

8 October 2011

Another dilemma.....

For those who don’t know we have 5 dogs:  Layla, a boxer, and the boss; Lucy, another boxer, and a big laid back softie;  Alfie, a pug, who is a real character and always by your side;  Loca, another pug, who is basically nuts, but everyone loves Loca;  and finally Riley our newest addition, a beagle, who I think has plans for a takeover bid but is still sizing up the competition.

Remember this stuff because I may refer to them in the future and I hate to repeat myself.  Also you should know all our dogs can talk.  I don’t care what you say, it’s a simple fact so there.

Furthermore all the dogs sleep in our room, the 3 smaller ones actually on the bed....in fact Loca on the pillow on top of Al’s head.  The other day, and in a fit of pique, Al suggested that the dogs should no longer sleep with us and should spend the nights in the kitchen.  I was stunned and Alfie almost had a heart attack.

“What’s the problem” I asked and she explained that she often woke clinging to the bed by her arse cheeks and there just wasn’t enough room.  I had to admit I had awoken a few times in a similar state but still I felt the benefits of a lovely cuddly dog snuggled up beside you outweighed any problems.  Anyhow she was just in a moody so it wasn’t hard to convince her she would regret it and we were soon able to take Alfie off the ventilator. 

The problem she brought up did, however, have merit so we discussed what other, less drastic options we had.  The obvious answer was to get a bigger bed and move from a 5ft king-size to a 6ft super-king which would fit nicely into our room.  Al was delighted as she reckoned that would give her an extra foot though I had to burst that bubble and point out it would give us each an extra 6ins.  She mumbled about that being the first 6ins she had in a long time or something to that effect.  Layla and Lucy also thought it was a great idea as it would mean there was room for them and that bubble also had to be swiftly burst.

Anyway off we went in search of a big but cheap bed but by the time we had left the first shop the very capable salesman had convinced us that the most expensive bed in the place was the one for us.  Now normally we would have bought it on the spot, in fact we probably would have bought 2, but the new money conscious us managed to get out of the shop without handing over any cash but with a firm promise to return.

So that’s the dilemma…………. Do we:

(a) Stick it out in our existing bed and continue to exercise our butt cheeks.
(b) Spend a small fortune on a new bed which is so comfy you would fall      asleep just thinking about getting in it.
(c) Give up and sleep on the floor with the big dogs.

Dilemma No.2

7 October 2011

Short and sweet today and is a dilemma……..

Myself and my good lady and a few friends are attending a casino night charity function held by my work next Friday.  Has potential for a really good night so am looking forward to it, however…….

Its Smart dress or Dress suits so I tried on my 2 suits the other day. One is way too big in the stomach region and the other to small in the same area. (Put on a few pounds of holiday weight :-) ) 

So dilemma is simple…….

Do I………

(a) Stuff myself with crap but lovely food to bulk up and fit the big
one
(b) Starve myself for the next 8 days to slim down and fit the little one
(c) Buy a new suit then I’ll have one for the slim me, fat me and obese 
me
(c) Rent a dress suit
(d) Wear a dress and say I miss understood the instructions

Your thoughts………………

Never Watch a Program With a Plot Line With a Blonde

6 October 2011

Never watch a program with a plot line with a blonde.

Last night after our dose of Jeremy Kyle and The Real Housewives we sat down to watch “Strike Back Project Dawn” an action thriller series we have been recording.  Each hour long episode took an hour and a half when we included the number of times I had to pause to explain what was happening to my beautiful but somewhat dim partner.

The incidents are too numerous to mention them all so I have chosen my top 3 and not a word of a lie with any of them.

So in at 3………..

Plot line: The goodies are chasing 3 guys through a South African town ship……

Al: “Why are they chasing them?”
Me: [hit pause] “We just watched a 5 minute briefing that they got which
explains exactly that”
Al: “I missed that. I was thinking”
Me: “What????”
Al: “I was thinking about something and wasn’t paying attention.”
Me: “What were you thinking about?”
Al: “I can’t remember”
Me: “You can’t watch a program like this if you are going to go off randomly
thinking you miss too much”

And now the classic line

Al: “I can’t help it if my brain decides to think it just happens”
Me: “Bloody hell!!!!!” [hit play]

And at 2 we have……..

Plot line: A goody (who by the way is white) who is pretending to be someone else is tied to a chair with a bomb strapped to his chest and the baddy says “We know you’re not who you say you are”

Al: “I bet you that’s because the person he is pretending to be is black”
Me: [hit pause] “What??? That guy just did a 3 minute chase on foot
through Cape Town of the bloke he is pretending to be. At the end of the
chase they had a 2 minute fist fight which ended in him shooting the
baddie. During all of that the baddy was white”
Al: “Oh”
Me: “More importantly what did you think was going on there?”
Al: “I didn’t know”
Me: “Bloody hell!!!!” [hit play]

And in at number one a real classic

Plot line: Two goodies are on surveillance and sitting in the car chatting…..

Al: “What’s a narsol?”
Me: [hit pause] “What????”
Al: “What’s a narsol?”
Me: “I have no idea what you are talking about or what a flipping narsol is”
Al: “Well now who’s not paying attention smart ass. He just said to 
him “Narsol””
Me: “No he just called him “Arsehole”
Al: “Oh”
Me: “Bloody hell!!!!” [hit play]

The worst part is there are 7 more episodes to go…………”Bloody hell”

Real Housewives

5 October 2011

The following is the most exciting thing that happened in my day yesterday…

Almost got lynched last night when I accidentally deleted yesterday’s recording of “Real Housewives of New York” before we got to watch it.  For those that don’t know this is a fly on the wall series following 5 ludicrously rich New York socialite women who are thrown together and who spend most of the time stabbing each other in the back and sticking their heads up their own arses. 

There are also “Real Housewives of Miami”, “Real Housewives of New Jersey” and “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” all of which we are avid fans of.  Sad I know.  All of the women involved are, as previously mentioned, incredibly rich, or in some cases, incredibly in debt in order to look rich.  One husband topped himself last year rather than admit he couldn’t afford the lifestyle anymore.

Basically they all pass there time spending vast sums of money on a load of overpriced crap, doing “Charity Work” (to help the poor folk who can only afford 1 pair of Jimmy Choos shoes), and being luvvy duvvy to each other’s faces and then slagging the shit out of the first person to leave the group (a bit like our trike club).  Great stuff.  Our favourite is Gretchen, from Beverly Hills, and Al would give her left tit to be her and I would give both of Al’s tits for her to be her. 

Anyway I was already in trouble with Al for what the wee man on my shoulder had said about her yesterday so when I deleted the above episode instead of Jeremy Kyle (another sad daily watch of ours) my life was on the line.  Some quick thinking saved the day and I managed to find the aforementioned episode on the computer and we sat and watched it on the laptop like the pair of sad bastards that we are.  Disaster averted.

We like to live life on the edge………….

Dilemma No.1

4 October 2011

Well this morning I finally faced that age old dilemma.  Alarm went off at 6am and I threw back the duvet and jumped enthusiastically out of bed to be met by a wall of cold air.  Now as any of you following my status will know I am presently going through a period of nakedness due to my newly emptied house so I stoically made my way to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee to warm me up.  By the time I did this I realised I had nipples like Jordan on heat and my gonads had retreated to warmer climes.  My eyes fell upon the heating controls and thus my dilemma began.  A debate then ensued between two little men on my shoulders:

• “Turn it on why shouldn’t you be warm”

• “Think about the oil burning away and how much it costs”

• “But just imagine the heat on your skin and that lovely glow”

• “Think about the oil burning away and how much it costs”

• “But remember how hard you work you deserve to be warm”

• “Think about the oil burning away and how much it costs”

• “Just push the button. Go on push it you know you want to”

• “Think about the oil burning away and how much it costs and anyway by the time it heats up you‘ll be gone”

• “Then push it for Al so she’ll be warm when she gets up”

• “Think about the oil burning away and how much it costs and anyway she has an extra layer of fat so she doesn't need it” (N.B. the little man on my shoulder said that not me)

Decision made. I didn’t push it....

A House Devoid of Kids

2 October 2011

Work again today. Crazy day at the apartment block as everyone has to put their heating on at the same time so we can test the system but no one including me knows how to do it..............brill.

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3 October 2011

Big day yesterday for after 30 yrs I returned to a house devoid of any kids.  

No sound of happy laughter no hug from a loving child, no lights on, no music blaring, no arguments, the fridge was full, the handset was for me, the wash basket was empty, no hands out for money, no taxi service needed, no homework to do, no beds unmade, no clothes on the floor, no friends ringing the phone or knocking the door, no grunts to answer a question, or huffs when asked to help just a great big empty house. 

Al and I looked at each other and tear slowly welling in our eyes......................... 

We high fived, we high tenned, we behind tenned, we bumped bums, we did a daddy dance, we got naked, we got drunk and we got high......................it’s time to partyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How many Poles can you fit in a 1 Bed Apartment?

1 October 2011

Ok morning all.  Today’s status is slightly different.  Yesterday I was the ‘Relief’ Concierge at Head Office (that’s a person who stands in for an absent Concierge not a person who relieves one who is present) and today I am the fully fledged Concierge at my apartment block which I like to refer to as my kingdom.  I have two assistants here, protégés really, and I am slowly training them and passing on my knowledge and wisdom in the art of telling Tenants “You can’t f***ing park there”.  It’s quite sweet really when you see them sitting crossed legged and wide eyed on the floor listening in awe to my many Concierging tales.

One of them, protégée 1, rang me yesterday with a tale of his own.  It seems he was showing a nice couple from Bangor around a vacant apartment and they were very impressed.  As they returned to the office a Polish resident was returning from his morning constitutional and was, as usual, completely paralytic.  He was bouncing off the walls and staggered up to our visitors did a big bald headed toothless grin and mumbled “Hello”.  He then turned and promptly fell up the stairs.  He crawled away on his hands and knees muttering what we presume were Polish swear words.  Our prospective tenants and protégée 1 simply looked at each other and nodded.  No words were needed and they left.  Anyone need a room?

Just on the subject of our drunken Polack he is presently practising for the competition of “How many Poles can you fit in a 1 Bed Apartment”.  Our best estimate to date is 12 although it’s difficult to be sure as they all look alike to me.

Oh yes before I go a rather embarrassing thing happened to me this morning.  I got up out of bed, naked, to go to the loo and as I got to the landing I sensed something was different.  I suddenly remembered Ross was back for the weekend and his new girl Katie had stayed overnight and something just told me not to just rush into the bathroom.  The door was across but not fully closed and I pushed it with my finger and peeked around to see the aforementioned young lady just standing up.  She was clothed and only my head was visible so a quick apology and retreat to the bedroom, no damage done.  I pushed my door across and waited to hear her returning to her room thanking my lucky stars I hadn’t just burst in.  As I heard her exiting the bathroom, Riley, our newest dog decided to come back into our bedroom opening our door wide as she did so.  So there I was standing hand on hip and framed in the doorway being unveiled like the first prize in “The Price is Right”.  Time stood still as we stared at each other and my mind frantically sought the best course of action and for some reason chose simply to smile and say “Good morning”.  Hindsight is a wonderful thing and I now think I probably should have covered my bits.

How it All Began - 29 September 2011

29 September 2011

Believe it or not I am only just seeing all these messages for my birthday today as I don't really go on Facebook much.  Can’t even use the age thing as an excuse as Mum and Dad (or Johnny as he prefers) are in their 80's and they are never off it.  They are so down with the kids.  

Anyway thanks very much.  Actually now that I think about it I'm not really sure who will see this.  So if you get this Thanks and if you don't I tried and God luvs a trier..........

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30 September 2011

Hey!  I posted on Facebook and people saw it........how cool am I. That’s me hooked.

Ok so my status today is..........At work (as a Concierge. That’s a job with a French name so obviously important). Al taking Helen to airport, Ross home to see his girl (aww sweet).  Rest of kids all over the world.  Dogs up and fed but not walked...bad daddy.  About to have my first game of "Bubblehit". There u go I'm sure that’s made your day more interesting :-)...not!!!!!!!!!