I am properly ill. I have even jibbed out of tonight's game of squash, I am that properly ill.
My wife is a towering beacon of sympathy. Not. She claims that I have a mild case of manflu. Bollocks, this almost qualifies as manthrax, so severely has it debilitated me. I am even struggling to drink beer and smoke fags. I told you it was serious.
I am off to my Mum's in Abergavenny tomorrow night, hooligans in tow. I shall return on Saturday, they won't. It's half term, they're going to stay with Grandma, yay!
On Saturday morning I have more family duties to fulfill. I will call in to see my Grandfather who is now ninety one, and not in the best of health. I hope he's not too confused, Mum says he's had a bad couple of weeks. After that it's have lunch with my Grandma. She's eighty seven, quite sprightly, but has aged noticeably in the past few years, particularly in the ear department. There will be lots of shouting.
In the evening, I'll force myself off my deathbed to attend a cocktail party. This may sound sophisticated. It won't be. It will be all of the usual suspects drinking as much as they can before it's time to leggit home for the babysitter.The only difference being that we'll be getting squiffy on mojitos instead of beer and wine. The men may be wearing slightly smarter shirts than usual.
On Sunday I'll be waddling off my hangover with a training session at the rugby club. Despite my son being away, and despite my manthrax, I will honour my coaching commitment. Grudgingly.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Kids insults
Why am I getting so irritated by the kids using the term 'gay' as an insult?
It seems to be applied to everything,. Gay hair, gay rugby boots, gay cars. It really pisses me off and my two get a right bollocking when they use it. Which doesn't seem to deter them.
Pillock is another current favourite of my eldest. Delightful.
I'm also sick and tired of hearing and reading about some potato faced, slapper shagging, scouse mutant who apparently is struggling to make ends meet on a few million quid a year and wants to sod off to someplace with more cash and a better class of hooker.
I was quite happily listening to an interview on 5live with Ben Fogle when they cut to some puce faced Scottish bully talking as though there had been a family death.
Sodding football and our media's constant frenzy with it is dull, dull, dull.
Now switched to Spotify and Alison Krauss with Robert Plant to accompany the drabness of the year end.
It seems to be applied to everything,. Gay hair, gay rugby boots, gay cars. It really pisses me off and my two get a right bollocking when they use it. Which doesn't seem to deter them.
Pillock is another current favourite of my eldest. Delightful.
I'm also sick and tired of hearing and reading about some potato faced, slapper shagging, scouse mutant who apparently is struggling to make ends meet on a few million quid a year and wants to sod off to someplace with more cash and a better class of hooker.
I was quite happily listening to an interview on 5live with Ben Fogle when they cut to some puce faced Scottish bully talking as though there had been a family death.
Sodding football and our media's constant frenzy with it is dull, dull, dull.
Now switched to Spotify and Alison Krauss with Robert Plant to accompany the drabness of the year end.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
At times, life is shit
I've just got off the phone after a long conversation with a wonderful friend.
His Mother is dying from cancer. Chemo has stopped working, and she has months to live.
I took my beautiful boy to his school for problem children this morning, as I do every morning.
He cried as I made his breakfast, he cried as we got in the car.
He sobbed his heart out in great gulping heaves and clamped himself to me as I left him at school.
I stopped in a layby, started a Marlboro, and howled like a wolf.
Sometimes, you just have to play the cards you are dealt.
His Mother is dying from cancer. Chemo has stopped working, and she has months to live.
I took my beautiful boy to his school for problem children this morning, as I do every morning.
He cried as I made his breakfast, he cried as we got in the car.
He sobbed his heart out in great gulping heaves and clamped himself to me as I left him at school.
I stopped in a layby, started a Marlboro, and howled like a wolf.
Sometimes, you just have to play the cards you are dealt.
Thursday, October 07, 2010
The Apprentice
It's back again.
Where on earth do they get these people from? Does anyone work with people who behave and talk like this?
Every year, I assume (always wrongly as it turns out) that this time they will weed out the tosser element.
Dan, the chap that got fired. Good grief. 'My motto is JFDI, just fucking do it'. Yep, you went on national television and actually said that. What the hell is wrong with you?
Stuart, the annual 'Little Britain' character, calls himself 'The Brand'. Really, he does, and in deadly seriousness. Don't these people have friends? If I had a chum who referred to himself as 'The Brand' (unlikely) I'd have to tell him, 'Look, mate, you know this 'Brand' thing, it makes you sound like a complete prick. Stop it. Now.
Melissa is a food distribution specialist. Last night's task was to make and sell sausages. When asked if she wanted to be team leader, she responded, 'Good God, no', and then proceeded to spend the rest of the task telling the team leader how she should be doing it. Not in a normal way, in a strange screeching way.
Raleigh is an unemployed undergraduate (PPE, my fave) who is so posh, he actually sounds inbred. I suppose that's what happens when generations of cousins keep marrying. His sole contribution was to go all red in the face and boggle eyed and bray 'Shameful!' at JFDI. I think he'd struggle to clean the khazi in a KFC, so quite why he thinks he qualifies for a position paying 100k p.a is beyond me.
Another of the ladies has a superb pornstar name, Paloma Vivanco. Made up surely?
A few weeks of hands covering eyes, did they really say that? moments to look forward to.
I'm glad Dara O'Briain got the gig for the follow up show. I suspect a few of the fired candidates will have some entertaining piss taking to look forward to.
I'm going sailing this weekend. The Solent. In October. Needless to say I was the worse for wear when I committed to it.
Where on earth do they get these people from? Does anyone work with people who behave and talk like this?
Every year, I assume (always wrongly as it turns out) that this time they will weed out the tosser element.
Dan, the chap that got fired. Good grief. 'My motto is JFDI, just fucking do it'. Yep, you went on national television and actually said that. What the hell is wrong with you?
Stuart, the annual 'Little Britain' character, calls himself 'The Brand'. Really, he does, and in deadly seriousness. Don't these people have friends? If I had a chum who referred to himself as 'The Brand' (unlikely) I'd have to tell him, 'Look, mate, you know this 'Brand' thing, it makes you sound like a complete prick. Stop it. Now.
Melissa is a food distribution specialist. Last night's task was to make and sell sausages. When asked if she wanted to be team leader, she responded, 'Good God, no', and then proceeded to spend the rest of the task telling the team leader how she should be doing it. Not in a normal way, in a strange screeching way.
Raleigh is an unemployed undergraduate (PPE, my fave) who is so posh, he actually sounds inbred. I suppose that's what happens when generations of cousins keep marrying. His sole contribution was to go all red in the face and boggle eyed and bray 'Shameful!' at JFDI. I think he'd struggle to clean the khazi in a KFC, so quite why he thinks he qualifies for a position paying 100k p.a is beyond me.
Another of the ladies has a superb pornstar name, Paloma Vivanco. Made up surely?
A few weeks of hands covering eyes, did they really say that? moments to look forward to.
I'm glad Dara O'Briain got the gig for the follow up show. I suspect a few of the fired candidates will have some entertaining piss taking to look forward to.
I'm going sailing this weekend. The Solent. In October. Needless to say I was the worse for wear when I committed to it.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Boys weekend
I have had a weekend based entirely around the hooligans.
Amanda cleared off to a spa with a bunch of chums, leaving us to our own devices.
On Saturday we went to a hill climb. Never been before. Bloody hell those cars shift up the narrow track, mental the lot of them. It was an American themed day, so other than the racing there was a fair bit to do and see. Rather strangely, they had six full sized working daleks there. Strange, as in daleks aren't exactly what springs to mind with an American themed motor sport event. They even had their own race up the straight, much to my Doctor Who obbsessed offsprings' delight.
They both had their first rugby matches of the season on Sunday. Nothing much to be learnt from Charlie's game as they spanked the opposition 59-0. He was very gracious about it afterwards. Some of the guys from the other club are in his year at school, but he was at pains to point out that he wouldn't be gloating as he would be distraught to be on the end of a hiding like that. Didn't stop him dishing out some bone crunching tackles on said mates during the game, he really does love a bit of bosh. Joshie's mob not so good. They won one and lost one. He still plays tag as he's only seven. He sauntered over afterwards an casually announced to Charlie that he'd 'only' bagged three tries. He knows it winds him up, Charlie gets three in a good season, but he is a hooker, not exactly known for prolific scoring.
Monday was a bit fraught for Josh, his first day at the short stay school. He and I had been to meet the staff the previous Friday and had his induction. I was very impressed with the staff and the head, and he professed to be looking forward to Monday. It was a bit of an eye opener. We all went together, as Amanda missed the induction. As we were buzzed into the corridor, it was fairly obvious that there was a child on the other side of the door going properly mental, he even smashed a window. Josh looked terrified. Eventually the child was calmed down and taken home. When we left, the little boy sat at his new desk was subdued to say the least. He ended his day in the green zone (good all day) and was allowed his choice of activity. He chose computer time. I asked why he didn't choose playground time, he said he was scared of the boys who had tantrums.
It's a shite situation for him, but, it's the only schooling solution we have. He's there for six weeks and they have a 91% success rate in successfully reintroducing the short stay kids back into mainstream education. There's only five kids in has class, with two teachers. Worryingly, he is the only child in the school who is not on some form of medication. We're back at the pediatrician again tomorrow. It goes on.........
Amanda cleared off to a spa with a bunch of chums, leaving us to our own devices.
On Saturday we went to a hill climb. Never been before. Bloody hell those cars shift up the narrow track, mental the lot of them. It was an American themed day, so other than the racing there was a fair bit to do and see. Rather strangely, they had six full sized working daleks there. Strange, as in daleks aren't exactly what springs to mind with an American themed motor sport event. They even had their own race up the straight, much to my Doctor Who obbsessed offsprings' delight.
They both had their first rugby matches of the season on Sunday. Nothing much to be learnt from Charlie's game as they spanked the opposition 59-0. He was very gracious about it afterwards. Some of the guys from the other club are in his year at school, but he was at pains to point out that he wouldn't be gloating as he would be distraught to be on the end of a hiding like that. Didn't stop him dishing out some bone crunching tackles on said mates during the game, he really does love a bit of bosh. Joshie's mob not so good. They won one and lost one. He still plays tag as he's only seven. He sauntered over afterwards an casually announced to Charlie that he'd 'only' bagged three tries. He knows it winds him up, Charlie gets three in a good season, but he is a hooker, not exactly known for prolific scoring.
Monday was a bit fraught for Josh, his first day at the short stay school. He and I had been to meet the staff the previous Friday and had his induction. I was very impressed with the staff and the head, and he professed to be looking forward to Monday. It was a bit of an eye opener. We all went together, as Amanda missed the induction. As we were buzzed into the corridor, it was fairly obvious that there was a child on the other side of the door going properly mental, he even smashed a window. Josh looked terrified. Eventually the child was calmed down and taken home. When we left, the little boy sat at his new desk was subdued to say the least. He ended his day in the green zone (good all day) and was allowed his choice of activity. He chose computer time. I asked why he didn't choose playground time, he said he was scared of the boys who had tantrums.
It's a shite situation for him, but, it's the only schooling solution we have. He's there for six weeks and they have a 91% success rate in successfully reintroducing the short stay kids back into mainstream education. There's only five kids in has class, with two teachers. Worryingly, he is the only child in the school who is not on some form of medication. We're back at the pediatrician again tomorrow. It goes on.........
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Political nobbers
The set is complete, chock full of total dweebs.
Never before has a Blackadder quote been more appropriate.
'I say, Blackadder, are you sure this is the PM? Seems more like an oily tick to me. When I was at school, we used to line up four or five of his sort, make 'em bend over, and use 'em as a toast rack'
Oily little ticks indeed.
All in their early forties and and all have done virtually fuck all other than be politicians. Apart from Ed of course, silly me, he was 'briefly' a television journalist. Ed and Dave have PPE degrees, normally the realm of those who go to Oxbridge with the sole intention of getting a Blue, rather than furthering their education. Nick has a degree in Social Anthropology whatever that is, and yet they all claim to be in touch with us.
Ed looks like an extra from 'Inbetweeners', Nick appears to be scurrying around Westminster like a newly appointed school prefect, dishing out lines to all and sundry as he relishes in his newly found power. I'm not really sure what the new head boy Dave does, I'm not sure he knows either.
Never before have we had such a collective bunch of dorks in Westminster. Can't wait to see Ed get his buns toasted by those naughty rough boys from the Unions. 'Oi Milliband, give us your lunch money, you know you said you would'
Never before has a Blackadder quote been more appropriate.
'I say, Blackadder, are you sure this is the PM? Seems more like an oily tick to me. When I was at school, we used to line up four or five of his sort, make 'em bend over, and use 'em as a toast rack'
Oily little ticks indeed.
All in their early forties and and all have done virtually fuck all other than be politicians. Apart from Ed of course, silly me, he was 'briefly' a television journalist. Ed and Dave have PPE degrees, normally the realm of those who go to Oxbridge with the sole intention of getting a Blue, rather than furthering their education. Nick has a degree in Social Anthropology whatever that is, and yet they all claim to be in touch with us.
Ed looks like an extra from 'Inbetweeners', Nick appears to be scurrying around Westminster like a newly appointed school prefect, dishing out lines to all and sundry as he relishes in his newly found power. I'm not really sure what the new head boy Dave does, I'm not sure he knows either.
Never before have we had such a collective bunch of dorks in Westminster. Can't wait to see Ed get his buns toasted by those naughty rough boys from the Unions. 'Oi Milliband, give us your lunch money, you know you said you would'
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Progress
Another post about Boy 2, but it is a very dominant factor in our lives at the moment.
After a very long time when we thought we were banging our heads against a brick wall, it is truly remarkable how quickly things spring into action once the diagnosis of ADHD was made.
It's all rather daunting, (for us as parents) so goodness knows how he's going to feel about it. It's very difficult to know exactly what is right, and what is wrong, all we are doing is taking on board professional advice and trying to make the best decisions for him.
We've decided not to medicate him, against the advice of the pediatrician, only time will tell if we've done the right thing. We have done as much research as we can, and ultimately have come to the decision that we are not prepared to accept the potential risks of the side effects. He is our seven year old child, and we must do what we feel is the best for him.
We have instead, opted for behavioural therapy, and he has been referred to see a clinical psychologist. They will help him try to understand his behaviour, and help us with coping strategies.
He is going to be removed from the village school for a six week period and placed in a Pupil Referral Unit, where they will work with him to develop his classroom control to allow him to remain in mainstream education, which he is entitled to do. We are going to visit the school shortly, but their latest Ofsted report has given us a lot of hope.
I know that everything I've written seems very matter of fact, but that's the only way I can deal with it. A lot of the time, I have no idea of how his mind is working, and I cannot imagine how difficult this process is going to be for him, but constantly try to reassure myself that we are making the right choices for him.
I just want him to be happy.
After a very long time when we thought we were banging our heads against a brick wall, it is truly remarkable how quickly things spring into action once the diagnosis of ADHD was made.
It's all rather daunting, (for us as parents) so goodness knows how he's going to feel about it. It's very difficult to know exactly what is right, and what is wrong, all we are doing is taking on board professional advice and trying to make the best decisions for him.
We've decided not to medicate him, against the advice of the pediatrician, only time will tell if we've done the right thing. We have done as much research as we can, and ultimately have come to the decision that we are not prepared to accept the potential risks of the side effects. He is our seven year old child, and we must do what we feel is the best for him.
We have instead, opted for behavioural therapy, and he has been referred to see a clinical psychologist. They will help him try to understand his behaviour, and help us with coping strategies.
He is going to be removed from the village school for a six week period and placed in a Pupil Referral Unit, where they will work with him to develop his classroom control to allow him to remain in mainstream education, which he is entitled to do. We are going to visit the school shortly, but their latest Ofsted report has given us a lot of hope.
I know that everything I've written seems very matter of fact, but that's the only way I can deal with it. A lot of the time, I have no idea of how his mind is working, and I cannot imagine how difficult this process is going to be for him, but constantly try to reassure myself that we are making the right choices for him.
I just want him to be happy.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Autumn blues
I don't like this time of year. Summer has gone, and the gloom of dark evenings looms.
I haven't posted about the end of our summer (more about why later) but we had three great camping weekends despite the weather. Good times with wonderful friends. Particularly memorable was seeing The Flaming Lips at The Green man Festival. Fabulously bonkers and the best live act I've seen.
My legal battle with the fuckwit company who decided not to pay my management fees rumbles on, and continues to cost a crazy amount in fees. I'm hoping to progress to mediation, but my usual cynical nature kicks in when yet another bill arrives. It's very much brought me down. It's made me anxious, I've lost weight, and I'm finding hard to concentrate on all the other aspects of my work. Thankfully, I've not hit the booze (having been down that route before) but it's been, and continues to be a thoroughly unpleasant episode in my life.
The general mood is not improved with the ongoing situation with Boy 2, although there has been progress. He's been diagnosed with ADHD, but I'm not convinced, and feel that they need to explore the possibility of Asperger's in greater detail. He's struggling at school, and continues to pretty much hate it. The immediate suggestion has been medication, but I am not convinced by both the long and short term effects of the drugs commonly used.
He can be a very difficult child, but he is also a very loving and talented little chap, who is having a very hard time. He's only seven, and it's sometimes very difficult to be a father and see the son you adore struggling with life at such a tender age.
On a more positive note, Boy 1 has started middle school and is on cloud nine. He loves it. He's been placed in the top set for all subjects, which he has worked hard to achieve. We're very proud of him, and very relieved that he's made the transition to 'big school' so smoothly and with such obvious enjoyment.
I haven't posted about the end of our summer (more about why later) but we had three great camping weekends despite the weather. Good times with wonderful friends. Particularly memorable was seeing The Flaming Lips at The Green man Festival. Fabulously bonkers and the best live act I've seen.
My legal battle with the fuckwit company who decided not to pay my management fees rumbles on, and continues to cost a crazy amount in fees. I'm hoping to progress to mediation, but my usual cynical nature kicks in when yet another bill arrives. It's very much brought me down. It's made me anxious, I've lost weight, and I'm finding hard to concentrate on all the other aspects of my work. Thankfully, I've not hit the booze (having been down that route before) but it's been, and continues to be a thoroughly unpleasant episode in my life.
The general mood is not improved with the ongoing situation with Boy 2, although there has been progress. He's been diagnosed with ADHD, but I'm not convinced, and feel that they need to explore the possibility of Asperger's in greater detail. He's struggling at school, and continues to pretty much hate it. The immediate suggestion has been medication, but I am not convinced by both the long and short term effects of the drugs commonly used.
He can be a very difficult child, but he is also a very loving and talented little chap, who is having a very hard time. He's only seven, and it's sometimes very difficult to be a father and see the son you adore struggling with life at such a tender age.
On a more positive note, Boy 1 has started middle school and is on cloud nine. He loves it. He's been placed in the top set for all subjects, which he has worked hard to achieve. We're very proud of him, and very relieved that he's made the transition to 'big school' so smoothly and with such obvious enjoyment.
Monday, August 09, 2010
Thrills, spills, and camping
Yesterday, the hooligans and I pootled down to Monmouth with our bikes and cycled along the Peregrine Path which follows the River Wye from Monmouth to Symonds Yat.
The weather was good, and it was a great ride, with wonderful scenery. We picnicked on the way, grabbed an ice cream in Symonds Yat, and turned around for the return journey.
Boy 2 insisted on weaving at speed on the gravel track, despite my repeated warnings that at some point he was going to come a cropper, and it would hurt. As with much of Boy 2's life, he learnt the hard way, and over the handlebars he went in spectacular fashion. He was bloody lucky, not that he thought it at the time. I whipped out the first aid kit (pretty much goes everywhere with us with our deathwish offspring) and started cleaning him up. Gashed chin, cut hands, not too bad.
He proceeded to howl the Wye Valley down, screaming for his Mum, hospital, and bizarrely, a lifeboat. My efforts to calm him down were largely unsuccessful, leading to Boy 1 to declare. 'I'm off, I'll meet you at the next corner, you two look mental, and I don't want people, to think we're related.' Off he went shaking his head and I'm sure I heard him mutter 'Lifeboat? Nutter'
Cheers.
The next two weekends will be tent based and we have finally upgraded our faithful four man job, too a rather natty new one with three sleeping compartments. Oh, the luxury, and it was end of line and cost very little.
This weekend with friends for a chums birthday party in mid Wales, and next weekend with another group of friends at the Green Man Festival. I'm very much looking forward to both. Let's hope for some decent weather.
The weather was good, and it was a great ride, with wonderful scenery. We picnicked on the way, grabbed an ice cream in Symonds Yat, and turned around for the return journey.
Boy 2 insisted on weaving at speed on the gravel track, despite my repeated warnings that at some point he was going to come a cropper, and it would hurt. As with much of Boy 2's life, he learnt the hard way, and over the handlebars he went in spectacular fashion. He was bloody lucky, not that he thought it at the time. I whipped out the first aid kit (pretty much goes everywhere with us with our deathwish offspring) and started cleaning him up. Gashed chin, cut hands, not too bad.
He proceeded to howl the Wye Valley down, screaming for his Mum, hospital, and bizarrely, a lifeboat. My efforts to calm him down were largely unsuccessful, leading to Boy 1 to declare. 'I'm off, I'll meet you at the next corner, you two look mental, and I don't want people, to think we're related.' Off he went shaking his head and I'm sure I heard him mutter 'Lifeboat? Nutter'
Cheers.
The next two weekends will be tent based and we have finally upgraded our faithful four man job, too a rather natty new one with three sleeping compartments. Oh, the luxury, and it was end of line and cost very little.
This weekend with friends for a chums birthday party in mid Wales, and next weekend with another group of friends at the Green Man Festival. I'm very much looking forward to both. Let's hope for some decent weather.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Yay! Talktalk, finally sorted
After six months of phone calls, the email sent below finally solicited a response which resolved the situation.
But they told me off for swearing.
But they told me off for swearing.
An incident was created in RightNow:
Subject: Billing
Contact Data:
First name: Gumpher
Last name
Email: @hotmail.co.uk
Mobile Phone:
Home Phone:
Office Phone:
Incident Data:
Question:
Customer: Gumpher at 2010-08-01 22:58:26
I cannot access my account, as despite phoning you every month for the past
six months, you have consistently been unable to recognise that my email
address is @hotmail.co.uk, not 1@hotmail.co.uk.
Each time I have phoned, the person on the end of the call has assured me
that the problem has been rectified, yet each time it has not.
I cannot access my bills. Until I see a bank statement, I do not know how
much you are charging me.
This situation has now gone beyond annoying, and descended into customer
service of such shite proportions that it is simply farcical.
Are you capable of getting this right? What do I have to do to make you
get it right? Why did some fool at your end change my email address? It's
been the same for years. @hotmail.co.uk, NOT fucking
1@hotmail.co.uk.
I await your reply, but suspect that there are chimps in zoos who could
help me more.
Go on, give it a whirl, otherwise I'm going to BT,and you can stick your
contract up your arse, as a contract is a two way thing.
Incident ID: 5824267
Incident reference: 100801-001615
Incident Subject: Billing
Monday, August 02, 2010
Back again
We swam in the surf on near empty beaches.
We caught lots of crabs.
We ate grilled sardines and fried eels.
We had ice cream every day.
We drank near frozen Sagres and cheap cold red wine.
We all read.
We did an awful lot of not a lot at all.
We all rather enjoyed it.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
I'm out of here
We're off to take life at a slower pace.Sadly, just for a week.
This is about as busy as it gets.
Joy.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Why bother?
So a few terror suspects get slapped about whilst British intelligence services are present.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/politics/10521326.stm
Big fucking deal.
They're not trying to learn how to walk again with no legs, or trying to put their lives back together simply because they happened to be on a random London bus or tube carriage.
Do fuck off.
Really.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/politics/10521326.stm
Big fucking deal.
They're not trying to learn how to walk again with no legs, or trying to put their lives back together simply because they happened to be on a random London bus or tube carriage.
Do fuck off.
Really.
Monday, July 05, 2010
The wisdom of HMR &C part 2
So, I paid the fine, as by only allowing me twenty fours hours from receipt of notification, I had little choice.
Opened the post this morning, another HMR&C envelope, oh joy.
Enclosed was a cheque. A refund on the fine. For £3.18. If the Nick and Dave show want a few pointers on how to make departmental savings I'd be only too happy to assist.
Opened the post this morning, another HMR&C envelope, oh joy.
Enclosed was a cheque. A refund on the fine. For £3.18. If the Nick and Dave show want a few pointers on how to make departmental savings I'd be only too happy to assist.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
The fuckwit spaniel
Is feeling very sorry for herself.
She was charging around a friend's garden (Nicki Nipples, so called due to her perfect, expensive fake breasts) with her spaniel chum Wilburt ( what you call a dog when you have expensive, fake breasts) when she ripped a claw out.
Blood everywhere, and a swift trip to the vets to remove the rest of it. Boy one was at NN's playing with her lad after school ,and she sent him back with an envelope with the claw, which she'd found, a dog treat, and one pound for the claw fairy !
Lead only walks for ten days, oh joy.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Round the Island Race
Velsheda appearing at dawn
The fleetWhat a fantastic weekend.
Headed off to Port Solent on Thursday to pick up our boat, a Jenneau 37. By the time we'd shopped, sorted out and sat down to eat surrounded by the other seventy Sunsail charters it was around ten. I knew six of the eight crew, as it was a 'village' boat, a tradition which goes back a while and we were racing against another crew from the village who had hired the same type of boat. Of the eight crew I knew six, and of the other two, one was very good company, and the other a bit of a cock.
Suitably hungover, the next day we sailed to Cowes and had a bit of a practice. Not much wind and bloody hot, shorts and tee shirt stuff. My chum who had organized the trip had pulled a blinder, and our berth was bang outside the Cowes Yacht Haven, with easy access to the showers and shitters. ( Taking a dump on an eight berth boat after a chilli the night before is not thought to be socially acceptable).
In the evening, some went to watch the footie on the big screen in the marina, whilst not being English or particularly enjoying football, I was happy to chew the fat and cook my mean Thai yellow (chilli, Thai curry, not nice to shit onboard, see our mistake?)
We then had to get up at half past fucking three in the morning to make our start time of 0520. The starts are staggered at ten minute intervals according to class, and I was not that fussed as we would be able to see the Maxiyachts going off first from our holding area. We were bumbling around, supping a last coffee before thinking about our start when the most beautiful sight appeared through the soft orange of the dawn. The J class Velsheda at full tilt. What a vision. Apologies for geekiness, but this alone made my weekend, and my piss poor photography doesn't do her justice.
In all we took around nine and a half hours to complete the race and finished a shameful fifth from bottom in our class, losing to the other village boat by fourteen minutes in the process. But what a sail, gusting up to twenty three knots, full wets on all day, but with glorious sunshine. Everywhere you looked were sails.
We berthed up and seriously beered, and then met our victorious chums in a very good prebooked ( imagine the crowds, Phil's organization was superb) Italian restaurant, followed by a great little pub, and then a bad trip down a bottle of gin back at the boat.
The trip back to Port Solent after a dodgy full English was a quiet one.
A cracking long weekend, and I'm signed up for next year.
Quickie
Must get a post with pics up about the island race, had a wonderful time but bloody knackered after getting up at 0330 to get to the start line.
Taking another skive tomorrow, a mate has just offered me a corporate freebie to the one day international in Cardiff. Corporate tickets in sport are a bad thing...........................................
Until you get offered them!.
Note to self, stop doing fun stuff and get on with some work you bloody slacker.
Taking another skive tomorrow, a mate has just offered me a corporate freebie to the one day international in Cardiff. Corporate tickets in sport are a bad thing...........................................
Until you get offered them!.
Note to self, stop doing fun stuff and get on with some work you bloody slacker.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Bits and pieces
We went to a Help for Heroes event on Sunday and all had an excellent time.
There was an airshow with Tornadoes, a Sea King, a Spifire, brilliant.
The Army had loads of tanks and assorted vehicles which they were quite happy for us to clamber in and out of, and even showed the boys how to operate some of electronic gizmos.
The police had a great display of vehicles and put on a cracking fake armed robbery with the dog team and firearms officers.
It was a great day out, and hopefully raised a lot of money. Everyone gave their time for free with one glaring exception who charged the organisers for the use of the disused airfield where it was held.
The Ministry of Defence. Simply staggering.
As the oil leak rumbles on we see American politicians fight to be a the front of the queue to hammer BP. If, as it would appear, that BP are culpable, then they must be held to account and pay. The same politicians would be mindful to remember a company called Union Carbide and what happened, and continues to happen in Bhopal twenty six years after the event. I hope BP do not follow Union Carbide's example in dealing with coorporate disaster.
Right, I'm off to pack my bestest sailing gear in preparation to race around the Isle of Wight. Nearly 1800 entries, should be quite a spectacle. I'm very much looking forward to seeing the J class yacht 'Velsheda'' racing, which is quite possibly the most beautiful object ever designed and built by man.
There was an airshow with Tornadoes, a Sea King, a Spifire, brilliant.
The Army had loads of tanks and assorted vehicles which they were quite happy for us to clamber in and out of, and even showed the boys how to operate some of electronic gizmos.
The police had a great display of vehicles and put on a cracking fake armed robbery with the dog team and firearms officers.
It was a great day out, and hopefully raised a lot of money. Everyone gave their time for free with one glaring exception who charged the organisers for the use of the disused airfield where it was held.
The Ministry of Defence. Simply staggering.
As the oil leak rumbles on we see American politicians fight to be a the front of the queue to hammer BP. If, as it would appear, that BP are culpable, then they must be held to account and pay. The same politicians would be mindful to remember a company called Union Carbide and what happened, and continues to happen in Bhopal twenty six years after the event. I hope BP do not follow Union Carbide's example in dealing with coorporate disaster.
Right, I'm off to pack my bestest sailing gear in preparation to race around the Isle of Wight. Nearly 1800 entries, should be quite a spectacle. I'm very much looking forward to seeing the J class yacht 'Velsheda'' racing, which is quite possibly the most beautiful object ever designed and built by man.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
The wisdom of HMR & C
Today I received a letter from HMR &C stating that my corporation tax return for, wait for it 2006, yes 2006, had been filed late and that there was a penalty 0f £204.26 to pay.
I was fairly sure that this was bollocks, as I am anal regarding my tax affairs, so I rang them to chew the fat.
Despite my protests, they insisted it was payable and guess how long they gave me to pay before taking legal action?
Twenty four hours.
After waiting four years to notify me, they want to be paid within twenty four hours of receiving notification. I can't even clarify it with my accountant in that timeframe.
There is no point in even attempting to convince the droid at the other end of the phone line that in the real world (the one outside of the civil fucking service) this would not be considered in any way reasonable.
Cocksucking fuckwombles the lot of them.
I was fairly sure that this was bollocks, as I am anal regarding my tax affairs, so I rang them to chew the fat.
Despite my protests, they insisted it was payable and guess how long they gave me to pay before taking legal action?
Twenty four hours.
After waiting four years to notify me, they want to be paid within twenty four hours of receiving notification. I can't even clarify it with my accountant in that timeframe.
There is no point in even attempting to convince the droid at the other end of the phone line that in the real world (the one outside of the civil fucking service) this would not be considered in any way reasonable.
Cocksucking fuckwombles the lot of them.
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