All that Glitters is not Gold Unless it’s a Mini Convertible

4 January 2012

Good morning all and before you start a collective groan I am not going to mention Alena’s new Mini with folding roof and Run Flat tyres today as it would be inappropriate.

We realise that there are more important things in the world like famine and war which push the fact the car has 5 colours of mood lighting with dimmer switch and heated leather seats into total unimportance.

If we actually thought that having cruise control, voice activated bluetooth and digital radio were in anyway worthy of even a mention then very sad people we would indeed be.

I am pretty sure when Alena is sitting in her two-tone, Sports Tec car studying the controls on the leather, red stitched, sports wheel her thoughts will not be of herself. 

What has the fact we got 3yr warranty, 3yr road side assistance, 5yr free servicing, 1yr free insurance, 1yrs tax, 2 free fill ups of petrol, 2 free valets, a bunch of flowers and a Mini ‘Bulldog’ stuffed toy got over world peace. 

No we fully realise that sports alloys, front and rear fog lights and reversing sensors are all very well but we don’t forget that there are those out there with cars that are more than 1yr old.

So I hope some of you more egotistical folk out there will take a leaf from our book and in this year of 2012 will maybe start to think of others before yourselves and remember as I believe Confucius once said “All that glitters is not gold unless it’s a Mini Convertible”.

Concierge dans un Cabriolet

31 December 2011

A little disappointed this morning not to have received a mention in this year’s honours list for 'Outstanding Services to Concierging’.  I suppose it’s simply a reflection of the British dislike for all things French.  Agh well maybe I should go for the Croix de Guerre.

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3 January 2012

Well welcome all to 2012!!

Hope you had a fantastic Xmas and a super New Year and I would like to thank everyone who came on Saturday to ours and made it a memorable night.

On a more down beat note I would again like to remind everyone there is a fair chance this is the year the world ends.  We had the highest Xmas temperature on record.  My recycling bins were lifted this morning and the contents distributed around mine my neighbours and my neighbours gardens by ‘Mother Nature’ the very person we’re recycling to help (ungrateful bitch).  Hollywood made a movie about it, and they never lie, and of course the Mayan calendar ends this year.  What more evidence do you need????????? 

So my advice is:
1. Don’t plan on carrying over any leave
2. If you are doing a 2 year course ‘Drop out’
3. If you are saving for a rainy day look out the window
4. If you have a list of things to do before you die get on with it
5. Get as much credit as you can, they’ll never get it back

We are taking our own advice and today is the day we pick up our new mini.  Did I mention it has ‘Interior Mood lighting’ and is a ‘Cabriolet’ (that’s a French word) which means if I ever get to drive it I’ll be a ‘Concierge dans un Cabriolet’ Yooooooo!!!!

We Bought a Car with a Soft Top in a Country with no Sun

29 December 2011

Well we went and gone and did it again!!!!!!!

Following a mad rush of blood to the head we went out looking for the Mini Alena has always wanted.  Going on the principal that you only live once we had given ourselves a fairly big budget but a strict rule not to go over it.Unfortunately no one told the salesman our rule and we ended up doubling our budget and buying a car with a soft top in a country which has no sun.  We spent a good 30mins thinking about it so at least no one can say we are impulsive, and we will spend the next 4yrs paying for it. 

The world is meant to end next year anyway so should only have to make a maximum of 12 payments.  Who'll have the last laugh then, eh????

Anyhow my Alena deserves it she’s the nicest, kindest, most caring, hardworking, loving, sexy best friend a man could ask for (that’s me saying this, no Facerape this time).  She looks fantastic at the wheel of her wee motor and seeing the excitement and joy on her face was worth every penny.I love her more today than ever and we intend to live life to the full so look out 2012 here we come ……………………………….

I Love my Wife So Much

23 December 2011

Big night tonight as we are attending our friend Rio’s coming of age 30th birthday bash which basically entails a piss up down the town.

Bit worried after my last adventure in city drinking so have covered the bases and we have booked a room in a cheap hotel for me to collapse in when it all gets too much.  Al will be with me this time to watch my back and stop those bad folk slipping any "Ripmahole" in my drink. 

Phew!!!

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25 December 2011

I love my wife soooo much ..... I honestly don't think she could be any more perfect. I am the luckiest of lucky men!

The World Has Finally Gone Mad

22 December 2011

Ok, the world has finally gone mad.

Was chatting to a guy in my work who proudly told me he is withholding sex from his wife at the minute and has been for nearly two months.

That earned a double take and a “Run that by me again”.

Why you may ask………………

Did she cheat on him???

Did she spend all his money???

Did she scratch his car???

Did she kick his dog???

None of the above………………She won’t cuddle him enough!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I almost fell off my chair.  “She won’t what??” I said

“She won’t cuddle enough.  She just wants sex”, came the reply and I did fall off my chair.

“But that’s perfect you big twat!!!”, I exclaimed, “Are you nuts!!”

“No” he says “I like to cuddle and she doesn’t.  She came home the other night drunk from her work do and was really up for it and I just said no”.

“But but but…….”, I stammered banging my head with the telephone handset in case I was dreaming, “Do you pretend to have a headache or what??”. 

“No.  I just stay up when she goes to bed.  I’ve told her if she cuddles me more I’ll do it though I might because it’s Christmas at the weekend as a surprise.”

This guy is 24!!!!!!  Please God this country never goes to war again.

For once in my life I am speechless……………………………………

The 2nd Annual BTW Belfast Street Collection Part II

16 December 2011

Well, woke on Wednesday morning to see rain, hail, snow, cats, dogs, you name it falling from the sky.  Not good for fund raising street collections and particularly not when you have to drive a trike with four reluctant dogs on it.

Checked on the local TV weather forecast who told us it was a fine dry day.  That’s alright then!!!  Have they no windows at the BBC???  Anyhow came up with a clever plan to get the dogs there dry, and by shuffling around in cars and stuff we eventually got there about 10 mins late.

Aaron, one of the lads, had travelled all the way from Kilkeel and was standing wet and forlorn but ready to go, despite a serious case of man flu which would have hospitalized any normal human being.  More folk started to arrive in rapid succession.  Big Wease had driven through a blizzard to get there and looked like it but was determined to take up his usual spot at Castle Court which he has come to look on as his own.  He was joined by TrickyRicky who was equally wet but just as determined and I wouldn’t like to be the punter that refused those two money.

Baddon wasted no time in organizing the important stuff and within minutes of arriving had free burgers for the day sorted with a stall holder in the market for ALL of us.  He then rang his sister Nic who brought constant supplies of food and he even went to KFC and bought us all chicken later on.  Not sure if he raised any money but we sure as hell ate well.

Shark, Happy Snapper and Mr & Mrs Trucker set up camp with Aaron at one side of the city hall and were doing a roaring trade but I started to notice one of them always seemed to be missing.  A little later when their chants of “Northern Ireland Cancer Fund for Children” changed to “Norn Erand Bancer Dund fur Dilders” I realised they had found the mulled wine stand.

Thompy was with that group and smiling as always (without the assistance of mulled wine).  He ended up almost crippled when his back gave up from standing for so long but that smile still stayed and we almost had to push him on the bus to get him to go home before he ended up on a stretcher.  Thompy will be smiling even as they bury him.

AJ, Eric and BA arrived later and joined the guys up at Castle Court and they became the collecting equivalent of a dream team.  Big Wease, AJ, Tricky and Eric terrorized the public and then having passed through this human equivalent of a minefield they were met by BA who was dressed as a bear and insisted on giving everyone (and I mean everyone) a “Bearhug”. 

Not to be out done we had our own costumed crusader down at the city hall in the form of Freespirit dressed as ‘Po’ (I think) from the Teletubbies.  He caused the only complaint of the day when a distraught father approached me and told me his son was in a state because ‘Po’ had just taken his head off. Poor child will never sleep again.

Blueray and Mr Chips (who, like Aaron, travelled a very long way to take part) joined us in the afternoon and slipped sexily into the XL yellow T-shirts supplied by the charity.  If we stood together in any sort of numbers we looked like a flock of ‘Big Birds‘ from Sesame Street.

The enthusiasm shown by everyone was fantastic and not forgetting Al and Twistedsis who, whilst being the worst collectors of money, are undoubtedly the best counters and making use of our friend Tracey’s house (cheers Tracey) kept the money bagged and counted and gave us a running total to urge us on.

Mustn’t forget Master Blaster who made a guest appearance on his trike but couldn’t stop because his trike wouldn't start again (the joys of triking).

One person noticeable for his absence was Reaper although I understand he tried. He was however stopped at the border and turned back because his passport has been seized by the Police until that unfortunate incident with the sheep in his hotel room has been to court. (Apparently there’s a perfectly good explanation???).

The generosity of the people of Belfast is legendary and it did not fail us on the day and we raised a grand total of over £3700 for the NI Cancer Fund for Children.  Well done guys and guysesses.

So victory had been salvaged from the jaws of defeat but things in life are of course always balanced out.  If you have an up you have a down, an in needs an out, a ying must have a yang so my pleasure at our good fortune had to be tempered by a less pleasant experience so the universe could continue to turn in blissful harmony.

In this case the downside didn’t show itself until I was preparing for bed.  It had been a long cold day and I had been well wrapped up against the elements.  As the weather improved my temperature went up and for a short but relevant period during the afternoon I was quite hot.  This of course causes one to perspire and this appears to be what happened to (and I use some local terminology here) the “shucks of my arse”. 

When I went to disrobe that evening I discovered this had occurred when I found my underwear to be stuck to that particular area.  Not a problem I thought and gave it a bit of a yank which unfortunately took a layer of skin with it.  Now that hurt, and I am left with two bits of raw flesh looking at each other and rubbing together at every opportunity.  It resulted in a sleepless night and each time I woke my gluteus maximus were stuck together and had to be ripped apart.

My walk to the bus in the morning consisted of ‘stick, rip, stick, rip, stick, rip’ a most unpleasant experience and I have to sit and stand with a high degree of care.  Oh for some Suadcream (I think that’s how you spell it). 

Anyhow if that’s the limit of my pay back I am not to bothered cos remember “It’s for the little children”.

The 2nd Annual BTW Belfast Street Collection

13 December

Another big day in the BTW (not BW) calendar tomorrow, Wednesday 14th December, with the 2nd Annual Belfast Street Collection being held in …….well…………Belfast..

This is the day in the year when we Trikers show the public we are not just a bunch of really hard bastards who bite the heads off chickens (although I personally prefer the breast) and occasionally drive at 75 mph on the motorway (if conditions are suitable and it’s safe to do so). 

No we have a softer side.  A side that wants to help.  A side that wants your money and if you don’t give it to us we’ll rip out your gizzards and feed them to the rabid dogs....or at the very least give you a filthy look.

Of our 150 members we expect an impressive 10 to actually show up and display their trikes for you, the ordinary poor people, to be impressed by.  There will be home builds, which are built at home, factory builds, which are built in factories and stolen ones which are of course stolen.  The famous ‘Dog Trike’ which has featured in a centre spread of Cullybackey Mushroom Growers Weekly and also came a well-deserved 3rd in the Taliban ‘Vehicles I’d Like to Blow Myself Up On’ competition 2010, will also be there.

Our chosen charity is the ‘NI Cancer Fund for Children’ and last year we raised an impressive, if I do say so myself, £3500 on the day.  We can be found outside the City Hall and or, depending on numbers, Debenhams, and will be easily recognizable as the big mean ugly looking buggers with yellow buckets.

I expect all of you (my FaceBook friends) to make an appearance and put some PAPER money in my yellow bucket and no excuses accepted.  Just because you are in Australia, the Middle East, Israel, the US of A or even Ballycastle is not a good reason to show up.  Have you never heard of ‘Easyjet’?!  Remember ‘It’s for the little children’ and I know where you live and replacing broken windows is expensive.

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15 December 2011

Collection day went brill after a snowy, cold, wet and windy start we beat last year’s total and have in excess of £3700 which is pretty good for 1 day street collection.  Stories to tell as always but I'm that bloody knackered I can't be bothered. It'll have to wait until tomorrow. :-))))

Remember, When Fate Owes You One There is Nowhere to Hide

9 December 2011

A quick ‘BW’ (Bus Wanker) story this morning that I’d forgotten about in all the excitement and its kind of the final nail in the coffin of what was last Friday's alcoholic debacle.

I wasn’t at work again, I’m a Concierge you know that’s a job with a French name, until the Tuesday.  I left the house about 6am for the walk down to the bus.  It was one miserable day.  It was dark, cold, the wind was howling and the rain was horizontal and all in all was not conducive to a feeling of well-being.

Arrived at the bus stop to join a large huddle of other BWs all looking cold wet and dejected and we grouped together like a flock of Emperor Penguins sheltering from the ravages of the Antarctic winter.

It’s funny how we normally completely ignore each other’s existence but naturally work as a team when it aids individual survival.  David Attenborough should do a series on BWs. 

Anyhow I digress.  The bus duly arrived, on time might I add, and like the gentlemen we are we allowed the ladies on first.  I was the first male to board and as the driver/supplier (you need to be up to date to know what that means) carried out his duty of totally ignoring me I put my hand in my pocket, pulled out my pass and placed it on the reader. 

Nothing happened.  I glanced at the driver who was looking straight out the front and without his head or a single muscle in his face moving his eyes turned on me.  He then glanced down at my pass then back at me all still without moving anything but his eyes.  Then in a manner indicating unparalleled indifference and again with only the minimum of movement he said “that’s only half a pass” and returned to staring out the front.

I looked down and to my horror realised my pass was indeed only half a pass and I scrambled in my pocket and retrieved the other half.  As I stared at this second piece it became apparent I was now officially in the BW nightmare situation of bringing myself under notice.  The queue behind me, who were still out in the elements, were beginning to mutter and shuffle, the driver, who had diagnosed the problem, obviously had no intention of assisting with a cure and had returned to his coma, and the passengers on the bus were now all eyes on me, the poor unfortunate who had committed the ultimate BW sin and stood out from the crowd.

Now you folk sitting comfortably in front of your computers will think “just pay the driver and sit down you twat”, but when you have to make a split second decision you don’t always make the right one.  Talking or interacting with the driver is another BW sin and all steps should be taken to avoid this so in an act of desperation I placed the second piece of pass beside the first and looked hopefully at the ticket dispenser.

Nothing happened.  I glanced back at the driver who was still looking straight out the front and again without his head or a single muscle in his face moving his eyes turned on me.  He again glanced down at my pass then back at me all still without moving anything but his eyes.  Then in a manner indicating continuing unparalleled indifference and again with only the minimum of movement he said “That won’t work ”, and returned to staring out the front once again.

The atmosphere behind me was turning decidedly frosty and I could feel a multitude of eyes boring into the back of my head.  The seated passengers were also mumbling and I could hear comments like “Stupid bugger”, “He’s gonna have to pay cash”, “It’s gonna cost him an extra 50p”, “Kick him off”.

My humiliation was almost complete but like a drowning man clutching at a straw I said as firmly and with as much indignation as I could muster “But I have about 25 journeys on that card!!”.  The driver went through the whole eye thing again but ended with a shrug which said as well as any neon sign “Tell someone who gives a fuck”.

I was defeated.  I had no fight left.  I reached into my pocket and pulled out some cash which of course was not the correct amount.  The driver went through the sighing routine that is part of giving change and I took the walk of shame to the back of the bus.  I'm going to have to get a car. 

And how does this all connect with last Friday?  That must be when I broke the pass...when I took my tumble outside the City Hall.  I should have known Karma would get me in the end.  So remember, when fate owes you one there is nowhere to hide………..

”The Brothers of the Third Wheel”

8 December 2011

Big night last night for BTW. That’s BTW not BW.……………………………. 

”The Brothers of the Third Wheel”

This is a clandestine group to which we belong which gathers together hard-core trikers, the sort of people you ordinary folk would cross the road to avoid.  We normally meet once a month and these get-togethers can be scary affairs with the threat of violence always present and a constant tension in the air between the various groups vying for superiority.  Deaths at these meetings are not uncommon but usually as a result of old age.  One member did die of an overdose which was pretty cool, although it was Viagra and that’s not a pretty site (It actually exploded).

Real names are never used, in order to protect the identity of members, and each of us is referred to by a nickname which stays with you for life.  Some are even friends on Facebook though you could never tell.

A few examples are:

“Baddon”: Previously the leader of the pack who was ousted this year following the discovery he was having it away with a member of the “Twisted Sisters” a girl biker group who specialize in taking the virtues of gang leaders and then leading them around like little puppy dogs.  He claims his nickname is a play on ‘Bad-one’ and it is merely coincidental his surname is Baddon.

“Twistedsis”: No guessing who this is.  If you see her you can be sure “Baddon“ won’t be far behind usually with his tongue hanging out and panting.  They are virtually joined at the hip (or somewhere in the groin area) and regularly need a bucket of cold water thrown over them.

“Shark”: Even saying the word sends a shiver down my spine.  He took over from Baddon in a well-planned and executed coup and came down on dissenters with ruthless force threatening expulsion, the equivalent to excommunication, to anyone with a problem.  He claims his nickname is to demonstrate his ruthlessness and aggressive demeanour and is well named.  Personally I note a shark is a totally bald animal and the connection may lie in that direction. 

“Happy Snapper”: Sharks other half and never has anyone been so poorly described by her nickname.  It should be “You looking at me you piece of shit?! I'll rip your fucking head off!!  Bastard!!!!”.  As a couple they are a modern day Bonnie and Clyde, Posh and Becks, Zig & Zag and strike terror where ever they go.

“Repoman”: The club enforcer and a refugee from the tenements of Glasgow in Scottieland. Standing at 6ft 4 and 40 stone he is a giant of a man, happy to snap a person in two if ordered to do so, with the conscience of a rabid dog and the morals of a rutting bull.  His party piece is to say “Thus bin a mudder”. He is also fond of crochet and usually bakes a cake for club meetings.

“Bouskie”: A man but still the club tart.  Not quite what he used to be but still living in the glory days.  Remembered for having sex ON his trike while parked in the middle of a rally with all his LED lights blazing and slapping the unfortunate/fortunate young ladies ass in time while singing “She’ll be coming round the mountain”.  No longer the man he was and was seen at this year’s rally wandering around drunk with his bits out but no young lady attached. 

“Reaper”: Now here’s a man to scare your children with.  From the South or “de sout” as he would say he has made a number of failed takeover attempts over the years and has left a trail of destruction in his path.  A cold and heartless man whose sole agenda is the pursuit of power.  When he failed to win control at the last election he said “Yer a boonch o feckin barstards n oil git evrywon o ya if hits da last ting dat oi do ya koonts”.  I think that was Gaelic and no one has a clue what he said but I think he was magnanimous in defeat.

That’s just a few of them and you can see why we strike fear wherever we tread.

By the way myself and Alena have nicknames as well. Mine is “Mal” and Alena’s is “Al”………………………….clever eh????

Thinking About Thinking

7 December 2011

Was lying in bed again this morning thinking about thinking.

This topic got me really confused but I have come to the following conclusion and I speak metaphorically of course……..

A human being is simply a well-oiled and generally smoothly run business made up of a multitude of small departments which work hand in hand to get each individual through the trials of life.  The you you think you are is simply the face of the company, the Chief Executive as it were.  Whilst you think you are in control, the company is a big machine and, while you may have the casting vote, that only works if a vote is actually held.

Take for example last Friday night when I had my little mishap with alcohol.  Had I been sober the evening would have gone very differently………………

My Senses Department would have smelt the burger and sent a memo to all other Department heads as a matter of course.  The stomach would have picked up on the idea, as it was at that time low on stock, and requested a meeting to discuss the possible intake of fresh supplies. 

Only relevant departments would have been invited initially to discuss the major factors.  Transport (how do we get there), Finance (are there sufficient funds for a burger AND a taxi home), Health (is a burger appropriate considering my food intake that day), Time and Motion (is the reward worth the effort) and of course the Conscience Department (a small Department in my case and only there because the law demands it) which covers things like the effect on the environment and society in general.

Now, up to this point the you-that-you-think-you-are has had nothing to do with this and all these meetings are going on behind closed doors.  Once the committee has made a decision, "let’s get a burger", it is put before the board and normally accepted.  The only likely exception to this rule would be if the Sight Department reported a particularly attractive young lady looking your way in which case a state of emergency is declared and the Flirting and Sexual Arousal Departments take over in a bloodless coup.

That’s the norm but throw drink into the mix and it all goes to shit.

You are no longer the head of a well-oiled machine but instead a group of independent companies all vying for control and in direct competition with each other.

You have more chance of getting Gerry Adams to father Ian Paisley's baby than get this crowd of belligerent self-serving buggers to work together.

The Senses Department has a liking for burger and at the first whiff sends a message to the Transport Department to follow the smell, bypassing the stomach at this initial point.  Transport is divided in two, left and right leg, and these are bitter rivals.  Both attempt to go first causing you to fall flat on your face.  Once up again they try to go in different directions and a power struggle ensues.

Meanwhile Senses has told a few of his mates what’s on offer and Finance is pointing out you have only a few coins left as you have bought too much drink but what the fuck.  Health is in hospital feeling a bit unwell,  Time and Motion argues that walking to Moscow on broken glass would be worth a burger and Conscience has been shot for dissent.

The-you-that-you-think-you-are has no knowledge of any of this and no one has any intention of telling you.  The Departments are basically doing whatever they like and you will go along in a drooling, smirking, bleary eyed daze.  I remember on Friday when I fell in front of the City Hall (doesn’t it make you proud) it was like being in a pilotless plane.  The-me-that-is-me saw the pavement rushing up to smack me in the gob and sent an urgent message to the Hands to break my fall.  They however were cozied up in my pockets and refused to come out saying it was Face's problem and demanding a risk assessment.

The lesson of course is no company can function well if it’s staffed by a bunch of alcoholics and the-you-that-you-think-you-are is responsible for recruitment.

I think this thinking about thinking makes me think that thinking is thinking only if you think it is and if you think you were thinking it doesn’t mean you actually were.  I could go on but I’m sure you get my drift.

Hold that thought……………………….

Definitely Getting Too Old for This

6 December 2011

Rough weekend.  Definitely getting too old for this.

Went out to my work do on Friday night and all was well.  Was feeling a bit tipsy and had gone outside chatting to someone who was having a smoke.  While outside had got the whiff of someone else’s burger at which point nothing would do but I had to have one.

Nearest burger bar was in Donegal Place, about half a mile away, so I strode off purposefully in that direction.  Every step I took, however, I seemed to get twice as drunk and by the time I was 20yds down the road I was paralytic and quite honestly in another world. 

I did eventually make it to the burger bar although how I didn’t get run over I don’t know.  I recall falling flat on my face at the front of the City Hall and having to be lifted back up by some passing do-gooders who got a “Shanks vury mush.  I twipped shover the kub” for their efforts.

I remember ordering the food and the girl staring at me like I had two heads maybe because I was staring at her as she DID have two heads.  Anyhow, eventually made it to a taxi and commenced the worst journey of my life with one half of me screaming "get out before you chuck up!" and the other half saying "stay put if you get out you die!".  It was shit.

I can quite honestly say I don’t ever recall being so drunk and as someone who is not new to the intake of alcohol I am not quite sure where it all went wrong.  I do however have my suspicions.

I reckon somewhere amongst those nubile young office workers I have a secret admirer who knowing my devotion to my good lady slipped me a quick tab to knock me out so she could have her wicked way.  Stupid bitch all she had to do was ask...duh!!!!

Anyhow, I knew it wasn't my fault, phew………..

Jack Bower Orders a Pizza

30 November 2011

Well we finally got to the end of “24” and having watched 24hrs of it (minus 24 x 20mins for ads) I feel I am in a good position to provide an intellectual critique.

Total shite!!!!

To be in this series you needed to be able to say “Copy that”, “It’s a go”, “I’m 10 mins out” and oh yes “Where is Jack?”.  You also need to be able to move your eyes from left to right a lot.

Jack by the way is the hero and kills, tortures and ignores all orders with impunity.  He is never wrong and seems to be able to get anywhere in the country in no more than 10mins.

What I would say though is never ever tell Jack a secret because he’ll tell anyone he looks sideways at.

If he ordered a Pizza this is how the call would go

Pizza person: “Hello Pizza hut. How can I help?” 

Jack: [Moving his eyes from left to right] “Hi its Jack Bower here CTU I need a Pizza.”

Pizza person: “What sort of Pizza would you like sir”

Jack: “A quick one.  I’m presently in pursuit of a top terrorist Moustafa Sheit, who has kidnapped the President, blown up the Empire State Building and is threatening to announce on Childrens TV that there is no Santa so I don’t have much time”

Pizza person: “I understand sir but do you want pepperoni on that”

Jack: “Copy that although I would be obliged if you could hold the mushrooms”. [Moving his eyes from left to right again] “I’m just on my way to a secret location at 123 Upper Street to meet an undercover informant called T.  So I’ll collect after that” 

Pizza person: “That would be fine sir that will be $4 in total”

Jack: “It’s a go.” [Moving his eyes really fast from left to right]. ”If you ring CTU they will cover the bill and while you’re on could you tell them that Moustafa is about to execute the President and set off our nuclear arsenal aimed at Russia and China causing a global catastrophe and a nuclear winter which will last 100yrs and wipe out 99% of mankind.  They have 10 mins to find him and neutralize him and I have so far discovered he is somewhere in the continental USA, or maybe Canada, or very possibly Europe”

Pizza person: “Sorry sir we are not allowed to make private calls”

Jack: “Copy that.  I’m 10 mins out”

So be warned.  It’s like a drug you know you shouldn’t do it but once you start you can’t stop.  Save yourself it’s too late for us we have 2 more box series to watch …………….

It’s not really '24' then, it's '24 minus 24 x 20mins'

25 November 2011

You may remember the debacle that was Al and my attempt to watch ‘Strike Back’ on the tele and her difficulty in keeping up with the plot.

Well, we have now moved on to the box set of ‘24’.  A step too far you might think but if she is not following what’s going on she is keeping it to herself and we will be starting hour 9 tonight and not a single question so far……………………except:

Al: “If this episode covers 9am-10am how come its only 40 minutes long”

Me: “What????”

Al: “We started watching that at 8 and its now 8.40 where is the other 20 minutes.”

Me: “They skip bits. It’s made for American TV so they have advert breaks”

Al: “So it’s not really 24 then, it's 24 minus 24 x 20mins” [tries to work that out but gives up very quickly]

Me: “No it is 24. It covers a 24 hour period”

Al: “Yes but it misses out a lot. What if something happened in the bit they didn’t show”

Me: “What????”

Al: “If an important part of the story was in the time they went to an advert break”

Me: "What???? It’s a flipping TV program they put the plot lines in the bit we see.  Consider the gaps like toilet breaks and the whole cast go to the loo”

Al: “Right enough that makes sense.  They’re running around saving the world and then they all stop for a poopie at the same time”

Me: “Have you ever seen a war movie”

Al: “Yes”

Me: “Well the war lasted 6 years but the movie doesn’t dose it?”

Al: “Well if the movie was called “Six Years of War” it should”

Me: “I refuse to discuss this anymore and one more word and it goes on Facebook”

Al: [mumbling to herself] “Don’t care what you say shouldn’t be called 24”

Mumbling counts as one more word so you decide………………

2 Weeks off the 'Chewies'

23 November 2011

Today makes 2 weeks off the 'chewies' and so far so good.  Al however is turning in to a hate-the-world and is wandering around with a face like a well slapped arse.

Helen our ‘niece’ Skyped us from New Zealand last night and it was all Al could do to drag herself to the computer and grumble her way through a conversation.  Don’t take it personally Helen you want to try living with it.  If she keeps this up I’m buying her some fags.

Have to give her credit though for sticking at it, as her work is stressful and the quick calming affects of a well aimed 'chewie' are very tempting. So you go get 'em girl I am waiting on the other side for you to re-emerge as a beautiful nicotine free butterfly.

Bottles and Cans Have to be Separated Out

22 November 2011

Spent the day yesterday at Ena’s (Al’s mother who died about 6 mths ago) clearing out stuff to get the house ready for renovation.  We have gone to start this quite a few times but it’s not a very pleasant job and quite upsetting for Al so we have kept putting it off.

I finally got into it yesterday and got a fair bit done and now am on a role so will keep going until it’s finished.  Biggest pain is taking all the stuff to the dump, as everything has to be recycled these days, although I am highly sceptical as to what happens to it all and am not convinced it doesn’t all end up in the same land fill any way.

Had to take the stuff to the ‘Super Dump’ in Sydenham which recycles absolutely everything.  It is huge and has separate skips all over the place for various things and is a real pain if you have a car full of random stuff.  As soon as you enter the staff pounces on you and ask what you have and watch like a hawk to make sure you do your civic duty and separate it all out.  I have learnt to bring items of single categories or at least group stuff in the car and it reminded me of the first time I went there a few years back.

We had had a party in the house and filled bin bags with all the mess you get from that like cans and bottles and uneaten food.  I went to my usual dump only to find a closed sign directing me to the then brand new ‘Super Dump’ at the Holywood Road.  Not a problem I thought and made my way there and as soon as I drove in I was approached by a herd of florescent jacketed little hitlers all full of new job enthusiasm and a serious dose of jobs worthness.

“What’s in the bags?” one of them asked.

” Just general rubbish” I smilingly replied.

“No bottles or cans? Anything like that has to be separated out.” Was the unsmiling reply.

“Just the usual household crap mate. Where should I put it” say’s me hoping this asshole would just piss off and leave me alone.

“Stick it in number 2” he says which is right behind where he and his mates are standing.

I jump out of the car and open the back and gingerly lift out the first bag being careful not to make any of the bottles clink thus drawing the attention of the recycling Gestapo.  Two of them are actually standing with their arms folded watching me and I take two paces toward the skip when the nightmare of nightmares in this situation happens and the bottom falls out of the fucking bag. 

Bottles, cans and rotting food fall at my feet and the bottles roll off in all directions.  The place had been a hive of activity but suddenly there is total silence except the sound of my bottles rolling across the tarmac.  Staff and punters stop what they are doing and all eyes are on me, the man who had not only dared not to recycle but had lied and had been caught.

Yes indeed caught by the proverbial balls and now stuck in no man’s land with a pile of crap at my feet and two similarly loaded bags behind me.  Not a word was spoken.  The staff looked at me with raised eyebrows and the other punters looked with a mixture of respect and pity.  Suicide was not an option as Al was expecting me home for breakfast so I simply started picking up the bottles and asked politely where they should go. 

I then had to go through the humiliating process of scraping up the food with my hands and opening both my other bags and separating all the various items to the satisfaction of my hosts.  I will remember it until my dying day and I recall just turning off my humiliation sensors as I went through the process supervised by what seemed like the entire staff of the place who had just made the biggest bust of their short careers.

The only redeeming thing about the whole sorry episode is that while I was being sacrificed the rest of the unsupervised punters were chucking everything and anything in the ‘non recyclable’ skip behind the bastards backs.  I therefore declare myself a martyr to the cause………………..

Riley Goes on a Diet

19 November 2011

Nice evening last night with Kelly, Andrew and the kids who came to ours to celebrate Kelly’s birthday.  As always I will remain the gentleman and not state her age but she has no memory of 1976 and only the vaguest memory of 1978.  'Nuff said.

It was from them that we acquired our latest dog ‘Riley’ and one of the issues the dog had when it arrived was it was carrying a little excess weight.  We reckoned a bit of exercise would soon sort her out but when the guys saw her last night they came to the conclusion she had actually put on weight and to be honest I think they are right.

She is a bit of a Dyson and hoovers up anything the others leave, has a bottomless pit for a stomach and is literally insatiable.  She ate that much yesterday including left over Chinese and birthday cake she is starting to look like a barrel with legs.

We are turning out to be not very good adoptive parents and should really be struck from the list but today is the first day of the rest of her life and she goes on a diet.  She is gonna hate it with a passion but it has to be done.

Al if you are reading this take a picture of that barrel of lard and post it so folk can see the before.  (No not you, the dog you idiot. Hehe I’m so funny).

They're Not Carrots You Know!

18 November 2011

Well judging from the various comments on the diamonds subject I think we can clearly state women are show off materialistic sentimentalists with unashamed romantic tendencies and men couldn't give a fiddlers.  While you ladies think we are demonstrating our undying love or whatever by buying the ring of your dreams we are actually just scared of what would happen if we didn’t. 

Ok that’s that sorted what’s next??

Oh yes a little Al’ism…..

I came home the other day from work, as a Concierge, (That’s a job with a French name), and it was late and dark and I asked Al if the dogs had been walked.

Al: “No. It was dark when I got home”

Me: “I’ll take them out now”

Al: “Its dark you idiot they’ll get lost”

Me: “There is ambient light from the city and anyway dogs can see quite well in the dark”

Al: “They’re not carrots you know”

Me: [staring at her with raised eyebrows and shaking head]

Al: [stares back blankly puts hands over face and also shakes head]

She knows what she meant.  She just needs to slow up and give her brain time to finish writing her dialogue.

Why do Women Like Diamonds so Much?

16 November 2011

Quick Al quote to start the day. 

Was lying in bed this morning and heard Al checking the time on her phone.

Me: “Are you awake?” (Ok I admit a stupid question).
Al: “I have had a terrible sleep” she excitedly replied “Nightmares and weird dreams all night”
Me: "Might be the nicotine patch you’re wearing maybe it’s too strong.”
Al: “I don’t think so.  I had it on all day and nothing happened”
Me : “That’s probably because you weren’t asleep then……….duh”
Al : [giggles]


Continuing on the female thinking theme ‘Real Housewives of New York’ ended last night and there are no other series on at the moment that we haven’t seen.  I’ve mentioned them before but for those who forget it’s a series following 6 very wealthy New York women and their socialising and party going and of course there personal interactions.  There are quite a few of these programs covering Beverly Hills, Orange County, Miami, etc etc and we love them.

Now you might think that’s a bit 'gay' of me to like these sorts of programs but it’s really interesting to watch how women interact and the thought processes behind those actions.  We watched a rather badly acted film the other day starring Mel Gibson called 'What women want' and there was one line in it that I particularly liked..... "Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus.  The man who speaks Venutian has it made".  I'm trying to be that man.  I see myself as a second year language student and I'm starting to get the hang of the more difficult tenses.  Still think the language is way over complicated and it’s a bit like French in that it would be nice to speak fluently but you wouldn't want to live there.  Still I think I'm starting to get into the female psyche and it is an interesting if somewhat bewildering place to be. 

I have a few questions though so here is one for you ladies to assist me with.

Why do you like diamonds so much????

Now that might seem like an obvious question but normally if you ask you get stock answers like:

“They're an investment” (Bullshit once you’ve got them there’s more chance of Osama Bin Laden winning the Noble Peace Prize than getting you to sell them).

“They look so good” (Can’t say they do much for me but accepting that answer their look can be replicated by much cheaper things).

“I just like them.  So shut up” (Not really an answer at all).

So ladies I want you to be honest and delve into your own heads and tell the truth.  It’s part of my Thesis for my Venutian course so you’d be helping me out :-).  My own theory………It’s a sign to other woman (not men cos they wouldn’t notice) how highly you are valued by the man that bought it for you.  Hence when a woman gets engaged the very first thing that is said is “Oh let me see the ring” and you all then do a quick valuation.  Go on, tell me I’m wrong......

Day 6 of No Chewies

15 November 2011

Day 6 of the stopping chewing attempt and it isn’t as easy as it first looked.  Mind is confused by the fact I am still chewing something, courtesy of ’Wrigleys’, but for some reason it is not getting its hit of nicotine.  As a result it is getting its own back by making me irritable, tired and unable to concentrate hence the loss of my ‘Mojo’ and lack of statuses.  Anyhow I am on the fight back and making a valiant effort to concentrate on something for longer than 30 secs.

Al too, has now given up and only being on day three is struggling a bit. Yesterday at work was bad for her and as usual she took it out on the nearest available thing and that was her computer. 

You have to remember that computers are human too and when Al returned to hers after a short break and clicked a button expecting an immediate response all hell broke loose when she didn’t get it.

To be fair to the computer its mind was elsewhere and was thinking of the new Pentium 3 processor when this unexpected click came through but it immediately tried to remedy the situation.
Computer: “Shit did anyone catch what that click was about”
Keyboard: “Nope.  Was having a doze”
Mouse: “It was a left click but I wasn’t paying attention either was dreaming of being wireless”
Keyboard: “Aw yea me to how cool would that be”
Computer: “Never mind that you twats.  She’s clicked something so we have to do something”
Keyboard: “Relax.  It’s only a click.  If nothing happens she’ll do it again.  Stop panicking”

All this happened at computer speeds of course and Al was waiting for maybe 2 seconds for a response to her click.  When none came she raised both her fists and brought then down on the keyboard, who to be fair was pretty much innocent in all of this, and smashed him into the desk breaking off both his back legs.

Keyboard: “Bloody hell!!  Start panicking do something.  Open something she’s gonna kill me”
Mouse: “She’s lost it.  We’re all gonna die.  If only I was wireless I could run away”
Computer: “Ok I’m going to open Excel.  It’s a long shot but we’ve got to try”
Mouse: “No any stop!  There’s an Excel running go for Word.”
Keyboard: “Do something quick she is raising her hands again”
Computer: “Excel?  Word?  Excel?  Word?  Oh my God keyboard's life depends on this. Ok here goes…….

Al’s fists were plummeting down towards the keyboard when suddenly Word opened and she stopped just in time.

She stared at the screen. Her eyes widened and she screamed “Bastard.  I wanted Excel” and smashed the keyboard to bits.

Computer: “Oops!!”

Anyway I left Al to work this morning and en route we stopped at Sainsburys and she came out with THREE carrier bags of anti-chewing devices ranging from fruit to Nicotine patches. I wonder which one will become her new addiction.

We're Going to be Famous!!

11 November 2011

Got up this morning and went downstairs and was set upon by 5 crazy dogs.  Made some toast and they all just sat staring at me.  Didn't beg, just sat and stared as if to say “You eat away Dad.  Don’t worry about us.  We’ll be fine [sigh!!!]”  It’s one thing giving a bit to one but when there is five it doesn’t go far so ended up with a half a slice of toast for brekkie [sigh!!!].

Anyhow good news.  We are gonna be famous, hurrah!  Photographer has been trying to get pics of us and the trike for 6 months but either he or I or Al or the weather weren’t good so it never happened. 

A bit of forward planning had made last Sunday the day for it all to go down.  Weather great and all off work if somewhat hungover in our case from Al’s party. 

Had told the dogs what was happening and Layla had gone into full diva mode.  She has previously won a puppy training competitions, a fact she loves to let you know, and felt she would be the star of the show.  She wanted to know if there would be a makeup artist, hairdresser, stylist the whole works and whether she would have her own trailer.

Lucy was more laid back and really couldn’t care less, Alfie just wanted to be sure the photos didn’t make him look gay and Loca wanted to know if there would be any chicken to eat.

The guy wanted to go to Crawfordsburn Country Park to do the pics so off we went.  Layla was in a funny mood just lying down and when we got there I asked what was wrong.  “I don’t know my lines” she said “What’s my motivation?  What’s the character thinking.  There’s no way I’m going naked unless it’s essential to the plot.”

I explained all she had to do was sit up with her goggles on and look miserable like boxers always do and stop whinging.  I was already starting to regret the whole thing and Alfie chirped in he hated his coat as it made him look like a fairy which was fair enough cos it did.  Lucy was sleeping and Loca was very alert as we had told her this was where the chickens live and to keep out a sharp eye and we’d try and catch one.

Al up to this point had been quite quiet on the back.  I had tried to persuade her to “Get the tits out for the boys” so we could make it into a national paper but she was having none of it even when I pointed out they were technically mine as I paid for them.  She had insisted in being at the shoot but it wasn’t long before the complaints started “I’m coldy”, “How much longer?”, “What’s keeping this idiot?”, “Drive slower”, “Watch that car” all the usual stuff.

Eventually job done we returned home and the guy said he’d let us know how he got on with selling the pics.  First to show interest was the “Black Lesbian Eskimo Snail Breeders of Lithuania Biannual” not a particularly mainstream magazine but better than nothing.  Then yesterday a journalist from the Sunday Life rang and said they were gonna use some.  Cool.  I did a quick telephone interview which included plenty of “No comment” and “Those charges were never proven”.

Anyway to cut a long story short we should, and I repeat should to avoid embarrassment if we don’t, appear in the aforementioned publication this Sunday.  Feel free to tell people you knew us before we were famous and keep an eye out for our first book “Concierging. A job with a French name” which will be out in the Spring.