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.

Al's Birthday

8 November 2011

Busy busy day at work yesterday which left me no time for my FBing.  Happening a bit too often these days and I don’t recall anything in my contract that said I would actually have to do something.  Employers are so me me me these days and forget we live in a very social world and it’s important for the well-being of the workforce to keep up with what is happening to their mates.

Anyway I never got to report on Al’s party on Saturday night.  She returned home on Sat afternoon reasonably unscarred from 2 days with party animal Gemma.  I had spent many hours doing the decorations which were a number of balloons and a birthday banner and when she entered the house I could tell even through the blank look on her face that she was impressed.  Now a banner and balloons may not sound like much but as I always like to say “It’s not what you’ve got it’s what you do with it” and the banner was beautifully hung and the balloons were all blown up by me personally, pretty good eh??

Anyhow the guests drifted in from about 7 onwards and Tracey, Julie and Pauline brought along some delicious grub which was eagerly devoured later on.  I think they were a little disappointed that most people were so over awed with the decorations that the food took second place but they made a good effort and God loves a trier.

Being a cosmopolitan couple our guests covered a wide range of occupations.  We had 2 from the building trade, a spark, a scientist, an accountant, a mobile phone salesman (who fixed my phone, cheers Kevin), 2 PA’s, a civil servant, a nurse, a Pile Driver (who likes to take his work home with him but that’s another story) a teacher (who is somewhat overzealous in sending folk to the naughty chair), a ‘mature’ student (who has, believe it or not, a computer embedded in her ass) and of course myself a Concierge (a job with a French name which obviously topped the lot).

We were also careful to obey recent legislation and ensured the party was cross denominational for now with every gathering of more than 6 people at least 25% must come from the other community.  They were of course very welcome in our home and I think they enjoyed themselves although it was difficult to keep their food warm when we passed it out the window to them.

The night progressed with fun and frolics and although I had already out done myself with the decor there was more to come with a deeply meaningful and romantic poem I had penned for the lovely Al.  It can’t be repeated on here due to the fact I could only think of one word to rhyme with ‘Luck’ but suffice to say there were tears in the eyes of some of the ladies and I could see a few guys wondering how they would ever top that for their loved ones.  To cap it all I then presented her with a beautiful bracelet hand crafted by albino midgets from the jungles of the Amazon using only their feet, a rare and rather expensive gift if I do say so myself.  Again the ladies looked on in envy and the guys just looked defeated.

Once the ceremonies where done we proceeded to do what all intellectual up market folk do on a social get together and got legless.  We were mindful at all times of Andrea, who is heavily pregnant and kept hot water and towels on standby although none of us knew what to do with them.  Keith became obsessed with getting Lynn’s ’ass’ computer to work using the Sky remote and we had some deep and meaningful discussions including discovering that all the ladies had at one point faked an orgasm (hard to believe) but so had 60% of the men.  It’s amazing what you find out at parties.

Anyhow it was a good night and I’m sorry if I’ve left you guys with a difficult task to match up to with my decorating, poetic and unique gift buying skills.  Give it your best shot guys they’ll at least appreciate the effort.......................

Halloween

29 October 2011

Saturday and off work so time for gabbing on here. Tomorrow is statusless in advance due to a fancy dress party tonight and the certainty of feeling unwell.  But have a good story for Monday.  See you then xx

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2 November 2011

Very busy day Concierging (That’s a job with a French name) yesterday so was statusless.

Today though I have to mention the fancy dress party we went to on Saturday at Andrew and Lynn’s.  They did an absolutely fantastic job, aided by Paige and probably hindered by Jay.  The house was converted from top to bottom into a haunted house and everything right down to the cupcakes had a Halloween theme.

Everyone attending had put a lot of effort into their costumes and we had everything from pirates to a flock of vampires and I can honestly say it was one of the best parties I’ve been to in a long time so well done guys

Anyhow I have noted a few rather unflattering pics of me attending this function floating about on Facebook so thought I had better explain myself.

I had planned to go as a ‘Biker Chick’ but the useless twats at Elliots hadn’t got my costume in on time so Al kindly made one up for me.  I began to feel a bit strange though almost as soon as I started to get ready.

It began when Al was applying my makeup and I was watching a bit of footie on the TV.  All of a sudden I realized I couldn’t understand the offside rule anymore and was becoming more and more interested in the players legs than their skill with the ball. 

I didn’t think much of it but then when I was putting on the skirt she had got me all I could think about was whether my ass looked big in it or not.  I must have tried on ten different thongs before I was happy with the way it captured my bits and I found myself wishing I had had my bikini line done prior to the party.

It also took me much longer than usual to get ready and Al, for the first time ever, was ready first I was definitely feeling weird but we left for the party with Al driving and me in the passenger seat telling her what she was doing wrong. 

When we got there we went in to be greeted by a fine bunch of costumed guests.  Normally I would look around and eye up the ladies in a predatory manner but instead I found myself thinking how so and so’s hair was all wrong or she doesn’t suit that colour or God she’s put on weight.

So anyhow settled down for a night of fun and frolics with a nice pink gin.  Then I found that every time I got in conversation with a group and someone left I instantly started bitching about them.  What was happening to me? 

I remember wandering over to one group of guys who were chatting about Greece and the Euro crisis and thinking “Where’s Greece?  What’s a Euro?  Why can’t we talk about shoes?”.  I actually suggested the latter and they all laughed at me so I cried and they all caved in and agreed to talk about shoes like I’d asked.  Weird.

So the night progressed and by chance I won the prize for best costume which turned out to be a pair of ‘Granny knickers’.  I pretended to be pleased but I didn’t feel they accentuated my curves very well and made a mental note to get my own back on that bitch Lynn.

The night went on and the craic was good and I recall promising to go on holiday with at least five people who I felt were now without doubt my new best friends.  I also remember telling Al that I didn’t want anything for Xmas just being with her was enough but thinking that if she actually didn’t get me anything I'd cut her tits off.

It was almost 5am when we finally went to bed and Al was feeling a bit frisky.  I wasn’t really interested, all I really wanted was a cuddle but I just lay back and thought about getting a manicure and faked it.  She didn’t seem to notice.

For a while though I couldn’t get to sleep and I lay thinking about the night before.  I'd:

• Forgotten the rules of football
• Eyed up men’s legs
• Obsessed over the size of my ass
• Worried about my bikini line
• Taken hours to get ready
• Criticized Al’s driving
• Not flirted with the ladies
• Bitched about their appearance
• Lost the ability to have an intelligent conversation
• Cried when I didn't get my way
• Plotted revenge over nothing
• Made promises I had no intention of keeping
• Made statements that others had to work out weren't true or pay the price
• Lost my libido
• Faked an orgasm

What was wrong with me?  Was I mad?  Was I stupid?  Had my IQ dropped into single figures?  Was I senile? ……………………………………

Then it struck me.  It was none of the above. …………..I had become a WOMAN!!!!!
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Don’t worry though.  When I woke in the morning the first thing I did was fart and scratch my balls so all was well and I’d slept it off. Phew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Never and I Mean Never Think About Thinking if You Want to Get to Sleep

22 October 2011

I have a mind numbness today due to an over exuberant night out last night.  A quick meal and home by 10 ended as a pub crawl and home by 2.  I therefore declare myself statusless yet again this Saturday...................... this is becoming a habit, but a fun one.  Going to Andrew and Lynn’s Halloween party on Friday so can confidently say next Saturday is another right off...... :-)

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25 October 2011

Ok back to work...no more time for mind numbness and in fact time for the exact opposite.

A couple of nights ago we were watching the ‘Ricky Gervais’ show and Karl, the ‘Idiot’ from ‘Idiot Abroad’, made a rather complicated statement about the brain and thoughts which I’ll not even try and put down in words.

Anyhow last night I was lying in bed and couldn’t sleep.  Tossing and turning and trying to think of something boring to help me nod off.  I started to think about thinking.  What is thinking?  Is thinking a completely automatic activity?  Could I stop myself thinking and if I did how would I start again without thinking about it?  (If Al is reading this she will have a headache already).

Anyhow this then progressed to what would a person’s first thought be?  Would the thought be in pictures or words?  Never having seen anything or learning any words then what would that thought be made of?  Is that first thought the point we become human?  Is a cake a cake when all the ingredients are in a bowl but not baked or a car a car when all the parts are in the garage but not put together?

I’m sitting now thinking what to say next and the thought seems to be in words but if I wonder what Al’s doing at the minute that thought seems to be in pictures.  Is there a third option I can’t spot?

You’ll probably all ‘think’ I’m nuts but it’s an interesting philosophical question.  How much control do we have over our own thoughts?  Do our thoughts control us or do we control them?  If we have a problem do we have various depts in our brains that look for alternative answers then report back to management who make a final decision?  If so who is management and do stupid people just have crap I.T. depts. 

So that’s what I’m thinking about today and hopefully some of you may be able to answer some of these questions but beware anyone mentions God gets unfriended.

Any thoughts???

By the way there is a moral to this story…………….”Never and I mean never think about thinking if you want to get to sleep”

Fund Raising Fry Up Poster

21 October 2011

The ‘Charity Committee’ in my work have a fund raising fry up on the last Friday of each month and a few months ago they asked me to stick up a poster to advertise it.  I couldn’t help myself but make it a witty poster and they liked it so much they ask me every month to do another.  How brill am I?!

Anyway I am sitting doing this month's and it just reminded me of last one I did which was censored by the thought police due to a totally paranoid bit of PC-ness.

I’ll not bore you with the details but the topic was based on a write up for a movie and ended with a “What the critics say” and these were as follows (by the way George is the guy that does the fry……………

***** “A Totally Tantalising Tasty Treat”……………… The Sun
***** “ So good Jordan wants to have George's babies”… The Star
***** “ Jolly good show and a fine feast”…………….... The Times
***** “ The best F’ing fry I’ve ever F’ing had”………… Gordon Ramsey
* “ I hated it”……………………………………….. Vegan weekly
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So I passed this on to George, who was standing reading it and having a good giggle when our HR manager passed by. “Have a read at this “ says George "it’s very funny" and the boss duly did……. 

Boss: “ Hehe, hehe, hehe, hehe, Oh!!
Me: “Oh what?
Boss: “You can’t say that”
Me: “What?”
Boss: “Jordon wants to have George’s babies”
Me: “Why not?
Boss: “Someone might be offended”
Me: “Well George thinks it’s funny and Jordon is unlikely to see it so who are you referring to?
Boss: “You know what people are like.  There’s always someone.  Best play it safe”
Me: “But I don’t see what might be offensive.  There is I suppose the suggestion that George and Jordon may have to have sex but even our potential offendee must be aware that sex does occur in society in fact that’s why they themselves exist.”
Boss: “It’s not worth upsetting anyone.  It’s not me it’s just the way things are.”
Me: “Well you're flipping upsetting me does that not count.  Aw forget it.”
Boss: “You can’t say that either.  The Gordon Ramsey bit.”
Me: “And why would that be?”
Boss: “Well that’s pretty obvious it’s suggesting the word ‘Fuck’.”
Me: [being a smartass] “No it’s actually suggesting the word ‘Flip’.  You made it into ‘Fuck’ so that came from your head.  For you to do that you need to 
know the word ‘Fuck’ and you choose to insert it there.  So if our offendee 
is offended by a word that they have thought of how is that my fault?” 
Boss: [losing the argument and his sense of humour] “Just take it out!!!”
Me: “Ok” (let’s be honest a job's a job.)

This month my poster features a black, fat, gay, muslim priest who is trying to entice young children with an offer of a good ole Ulster Fry. Let’s see how that goes down!!

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”

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.