Weekly Round Up

Hello all,

I'm back already. I know - I spoil you all. Am on the cusp of my week off now. Its been quite lovely. Spent some time with the husband and also a good chunk of time away from work.  The new job is taking a while to get used to so I thought the best thing to do in the circumstances was run away from it all for a week and take some of my outstanding holiday from last year. The 52 days I get can be very difficult to use up if you get distracted and I know I have all of your sympathies.

Am getting very excited about the new house and I will be waiting with trembling excitement tomorrow morning awaiting the written confirmation that our offer has been accepted. Then we can get the valuation up and running and then things should really start moving. I wish I could show you pictures of the house and its lovely garden but I forgot to take the camera so the only ones are the ones on the website which do it no justice at all. The only downside is the bathroom which is a bit ropey and doesn't even have a bath. This will not do, so the first thing we'll be doing is ripping the old one out and installing a new one. I fancy the idea of a free standing tub bath and a wet room. I did go on ebay this evening to price up baths and got sidetracked into one of those paid for ads at the side that gave online quotes for wetrooms. I like the idea of a wetroom so typed in rough dimensions. It came to a shade under £45,000! So I am not sure what I am getting for our money, but for that price gold and the accompanying bad taste must be in there somewhere. Anyway, suffice to say we'll be doing that room ourselves as well.

Not much else going on at the moment. I am mightily pissed off with Rupert Murdoch at the moment - not that he will give two shits, I am sure. A little while ago he bought Bravo and Virgin 1 (now renamed Channel One) for stupidly large sums of money. Well he has now gone and closed them - conveniently just as he launches a new channel containing a fair bit of the same programming but behind his paywall. Since we are with a cable operator we have no access to this new channel, even if we wanted to pay for it - which we don't. Its another example of his continuing abuse of his market position and exactly the same old tricks he used to get up to with his newspapers - buy the less successful ones and shut them down to stifle the competition. I honestly don't know how the old cunt gets away with it. Vince Cable had the right idea when he said he was making it his mission to tame him. I can't see how his bid to gain full control of BSYKB can get past the authorities now, if this is an example of his idea of competition. He probably will though on account of the fact that Cameron is a lilly livered tosser. I don't actually watch too much tv but Channel One had repeats of Star Trek Voyager on which, as everyone knows, was by far the best Star Trek franchise, what with the strong but fair Captain Janeway and the cute Harry Kim. I used to watch them whilst I was on my exercise bike. Now I will have to watch Jeremy Kyle and that show makes me so mad I'll probably have a heart attack whilst watching it, rather defeating the object of exercise.

Speaking of Cameron I see he wants to sell off the forests to the highest bidder. Apparently its all in the name of the "Big Society". Now, there are two points here. Firstly, The Forestry Commision seems to have done a very good job over the last 50 years of managing our lovely forests - certainly I have not heard any squirrels complaining. Secondly, this whole big society crap is really starting to piss me off. Apparently we are all to get more involved. Well I do get involved already. I get involved by going to visit the things I already pay for out of my taxes. I don't see why I should pay more to get less. This whole "Big Society" idea can be summed up as the idea that government "should do the least it can possibly get away with and be less accountable than it has ever been". It was bad enough when essential monopolistic services were privatised and tarted up as competitive services which would make things cheaper for the consumer. Yeah - like that happened. Now they are selling off the rest. Soon, the whole accountability of government activity will be reduced to one old bloke charged with emptying the litter bin at the end of Downing Street with everything else been left to us to sort out. Its the same with schools being allowed to opt out. The concept being that parents are best placed to run the schools their children go to.  Well, in my opinion, parents are the very last people you would want running schools. Half of them can't spell and the other half are too busy attending car boot sales, downing their own weight in cheap booze and playing Farmville. I suppose Cameron wants us to perform our own operations next as we are no doubt best placed to pop back in an errant hernia or lop out a spleen. He really is a wanker of the first order and if he wants to give us control of anything I suggest he gives us control of sewage disposal as I would be more than happy to drive up Downing Street and stuff a load of shit through his letter box.  Not just my own either. I'm quite happy to collect for every street in my area - that's the kind of big society guy I am.

Anyway I came across this amusing article when I typed in the terms "Cameron Cunt" into Google. Enjoy.

FRESHFLAPS

Hello all,

Well its been a weird start to the new year. As most of you know by now we are having to move from Sunnyside Rd after seven lovely years there. We had four years at number 40 and then three more years at number 44 – our easiest move ever: we just loaded up the removal van from the back and carried it out from the front. A bargain £400 if ever there was one, although we got a few strange looks from the removal men.  We had hoped to buy this one to add to our expanding property portfolio (well one anyway) but, alas it is not to be. We COULD move across the road as there is a house for sale bang opposite us. Unfortunately “Sunnyside” only lives up to its promise on our side of the road. The other side gets no sun at all and backs on to a cemetery. That probably explains why the people who live on that side of the road look so fucking miserable all the time. And we don’t want to turn into one of those people.

We definitely want to stay in Chesham though. It’s a lovely little town with lovely little shops for lovely local people. Its even got a little butchers where you can buy nice sausages made on the premises. As Alan is not too keen on meat being in the house I usually have to wolf a few down before I get home. If they are that delicious raw, I can only imagine how good they would taste were they to be cooked.

We actually found a few houses which would suit us down to the ground. “Bra” House remained a favourite up until the last minute. Nice open plan with a great garden and two bathrooms – one of them en suite. We called it “Bra House” because when we went to visit it there was a dirty bitch of a tenant in it and, apart from the half pint glasses of curdled Baileys lying around and half eaten pizza everywhere, she had kindly left a massive black bra on the floor by the doorway. So we called it “Bra House” and its kinda stuck. In fact the selling agents are also calling it Bra House as well. If we were to buy it I can easily imagine sticking a plaque on the front door informing Chesham passers by that this was “Brar House”. A kind of in joke. However since it is unlikely we’ll be buying that, it looks like it will be up to the future tenants to decide whether they think naming their house after a pair of knocker holders is appropriate for them. Or we could just sneak a plaque on the front door now and they would be none the wiser.

The winning house turned out to be just down the road from us. Nice and roomy with a big garden and potential for some internal renovations. It was on the market at offers over £190k. So we offered £190k which we thought was reasonable in the circumstances. It was turned down and the agent said they were looking for an extra three. We called their bluff and they agreed to take our original offer. So there we are, solicitors arranged, cheques signed and valuation booked when we get another phone call from their agent saying they had done some more sums and they really did need an extra £3k. As you can imagine we were not best pleased as we had already started planning where we would put the Olympic sized swimming pool and camel hutch. Even though we can afford it we are now worried that if they are that tight for cash another problem could come along in the next six weeks and it could all fall through anyway. We’d end up possibly not finding something suitable and having to rent again. So we went a looky looking on Friday.

This turned out to be a very good decision. We have found a much better house for not too much more money. The garden is really really nice and it has a summer house and a huge pond and lots of room for growing fruit and veggies. We went back again yesterday with our friend Kate to have another look at it and we are going to put an offer in on Monday. So keep your fingers crossed for us.

UPDATE

Well its now Monday and am very pleased to announce that the offer has been accepted and we are chuffed to little mintballs. All we have to do now is pay for it, so to this end I want to formerly announce that I am offering my body for sexual services. No reasonable offer refused and I’m willing to do almost anything. My only condition is that activities have to take place with the lights off and I will not remove my hood until firmly ensconced in the darkened room of my choosing. This is not because I am at all bashful, but more to do with the fact that the pictures of me that I will be posting are not that recent. Well, actually they are not of me at all, but I have been told I do a wonderful vocal impression of that bloke from The Killers and I am hoping that singing a few bars of Spaceman whilst being beaten on the bottom with a copy of Whitakers Almanac will be enough to see me through. If not I am also working on a new feminine hygiene product which I am quietly confident will bring me riches beyond measure. It's tentatively called FreshFlaps, which I am sure you will agree has a nice ring to it.I will keep you posted on developments. 

Fuck Me - Its Been Ages

Yes, me is bad. Have not posted for ages and ages and ages. And its not as though I have not been entertained by all the silly goings on in the world - cause I have. But I've also been mad busy trying to get my head around my new job and all the learning of new skills that it entails. So, shall try and do an update for the last three months in one paragraph.

Moved off station management to train management. The office is lovely and I have wi-fi (well in a tiny corner near where we keep the spare teabags and sugar sachets, at any rate. Have now mastered alien terminology such as "Step Back", "Stock & Crew", "Short Meal Relief". Not yet mastered terms such as "Blow Out", "Snip" and "Local Mafia" and my niaive guesses have sadly proved far of the mark. But I am getting there.  Am now at the point where I've gone from knowing fuck all for the first six weeks to now proudly only knowing bugger all. Its a massive improvement and the last few days in particular have been really good. today was particularly stressful since I had to take over the "Running Desk" (which is not a desk that is constantly on the move - although the bits of paper are) and I came home from work with the first headache I can remember from work in quite some time. So that's a good sign!  I do like working there and I am now starting to get the feel of the place, although if that fucking automated lift woman tells me again I am "going up" (twice) and then says it again for good measure, I swear, I will track down the key to her cabinet and give her connections a good seeing too. I KNOW we are going up since I get on the thing at ground level and there is no basement. Now, if she said "Going down", that would be something, although I would probably have to do her for sexual harrassment or something.

In terms of news I see that the Met Police have released pictures of the people they want to track down in response to the unprovoked attack on Prince Charles during the student riots, who decided, against police advice to parade through Central London in an understated Classic Rolls Royce in preference to, say, THE CAR THAT WAS OFFERED. Fair enough - it was only a Jag, when, if the police wanted to have him blend in to the surroundings of Soho and its environs authentically, they should have put him and Camilla in a blinged up BMW with a well tailored drug dealing pimp driving, but still, maybe there was not enough room for the stirrups and nosebag. Despite that though, not really very clever of the over pampered tosser  to be driven around in a car that shouts out "Look at me. I've got money, me. Perhaps no taste in cars, but definitely money. Paid for with your purchase of my lovely Dutchy Originals". Or maybe he thought by driving around in a very old car people would think he was thrifty. He's certainly been riding around in a very old bird, of late.  Seriously though, although I agree with the right of people to protest, wanton damage and threatening behaviour is beyond the pale. And, therefore, I feel no qualms about re-publishing the picture posted today by the Met Police of one of the suspects they are looking to arrest:

Although, in fairness to the dear old plodders I believe I am in a position to offer them a very good lead. Having watched the TV closely in recent weeks I believe that this suspect has been more than a bit visible on tv lately, clearly having no concept of keeping a low profile. Perhaps, secretly, she was craving attention that only poking a stick at a Royal Horse could achieve. So, without further ado, I present a much better picture of the suspect for you plodders, to do with what you will:

And before you say anything, remember that a young "of the moment woman" with limited future prospects has to do whatever she can to stay in the spotlight. If you don't believe me then just call Jordan. You can find her number....well, just about anywhere, probably (but certainly, for legal reasons, not in phoneboxes next to the pictures of pre-op trannies, I want to make that perfectly clear). And before you go dialling, just ask yourself whether you might not possibly go off the rails after finally having your braces out, just in time to get a shag of Daniel and live happily ever after, only to find your future prospects cut cruelly short by the lack of wit shown by US Scriptwriters of late. Truly, the days are gone of Ten Year+ sitcoms. Even George Bush has gone. Such are the transient times we live in.

Anyway, back in the real world and still commenting on the story, I want it made clear that I REALLY DO NOT condone the behaviour metered out to Camilla who, apparently, was poked with a stick. Its shocking really. As you can see from the photograph:

There is nothing more upsetting than the sight of a startled horse. As an ex horseman myself (well, twice removed, via my BHRA registered horseriding sister - personally the smell of dobbins make me wretch, whether alive, fried or roasted with a few choice parsnips) I well know the difference between a swift whack of a crop on the haunches and a stick in the ribs is everything. Its made her look all "PFF(Post Failed Facelift)" and that is not on at all. Its not like she didn't hit a few branches of a certain tree on the way down in the first place. This incident has not helped. When they catch the bitch she should get an extra ten years for that.

Anyway, moving away from horsey matters, just wanted to say a few words about our lovely cat. The delightful Mrs Dumpling - so named because when we got her she was massive. She lost lots of weight in the first couple of months, to the extent that she actually had a neck again. Trouble is neck is slowly disappearing again. We were on this "Weigh the food and meter it out plan" which worked for a short time but it seems to have put her in a mindset of "Oh my fucking God. Only 28 biscuits. Must eat them all now before I starve", and then, slowly but surely we just gave her more to avoid the shocking cries. Now we are working on a method of piling the whole days supply into one bowl and, fuck me, she's having a few mouthfuls and then wandering off for a good sleep. Clearly, she is a cat that thinks in the long term. And I can understand that. I could not go to bed if I had run out of fags and would walk to the nearest (sometimes not so near) all night store to get some and then not smoke them, but if I knew I had some I could go to bed happy. Am just wondering if you can get cat biscuit replacement cigarettes. I shall write to Whiskas forthwith with my suggestion.  We could call them "E-Biscuits" and I could stick one in her gob before I went to bed.

Anyway, on that note, I'm done. Just starting a chat with my good friend Jeffrey and catching up with his New Year experiences. So, back now and will post more often. Thank you to my ten followers for following. Please feel free to pass on this link. It can get loney sometimes. Oh, and if you are wondering about this picture change on my blog. Well, I like it! I was drunk and naked and I don't care!

xxx

Weekly Round Up - Fiona Bruce, Touch Phones, Segways & APPS

Hello all,

Well what a hectic few weeks it has been. I have been kept busy with work as usual. What with the strikes and the working to rule I've hardly had a minute to myself. Today I played at being a Supervisor for a few hours cause there was no cover at one of my stations. It was jolly good fun, actually. I made lots of announcements and used every bit of technology at my disposal. For a while there it almost looked as if I knew what I was doing. I think the staff were stunned to see me there, but not as stunned as I was to see me there. It was almost as shocking as finding me at a Gary Glitter concert.....again.

I've been mostly pre-occupied with my new Touch Phone. I finally succumbed, despite all the bitching and moaning I've done over the last three years to my ever increasing pool of iPhone carrying friends. Honestly, if syphilis spread this fast, there would be a public outcry. Not that I am likening the iPhone to a sexually transmitted disease, of course. Unless it was herpes. You can't get rid of that easily either.

Anyway, I have finally decided that if you can't beat them you have to join them. Since I had no takers for my suggestion that we all go back to writing letters with pens and queuing up outside piss swamped public phone boxes, I reluctantly decided I had no choice. I was originally going to get an iPhone but the contract was not as good on the iPhone and I do like value for money. I basically get double everything (including the inconvenience) by opting for the HTC Wildfire instead. I am reliably informed that my phone is actually marginally slimmer than the iPhone so that's a positive plus in the phone stakes. Unfortunately, I subsequently found out it does not have that great swipey action through photographs. You know the one - where it looks like you are flicking an escaped bogey off your side plate before the waiter serving the bread notices. Apparently its copyrighted. Ah well. My phone runs Office, so that evens it up again.

Its been a very steep learning curve. I couldn't get anything to work on it. I kept calling people by accident. This would not be so bad, but I don't like a lot of the contacts in my phone very much and only really keep them there because I don't want anyone who steals my phone to think I only call my mum. Come to think of it, I've called my mum quite a few times by accident as well. She's never had it so good. I spent four days trying to attach photos to my contacts to no avail until my friend Osk pointed out that you can't attach 2 mb pictures to a SIM card contact. Not sure why when I can cram Bowie's entire catalogue onto an SD card the size of Jordan's moral centre, but apparently the technology has not caught up. Anyway, after a quick bit of exporting I've now got all my contacts piccied up. I've also learnt to "link" contacts, so I no longer have 8 numbers for the same person and can now click on my friend Pete's contact and select "home", "work", "mobile", "mobile his wife doesn't know about" or "current shag" at the touch of a finger.  Now that's what I call convenience.

I've also learnt that widgets and icons are not the same thing at all. I'm not entirely clear what the difference is, to be honest, other than widgets are bigger and tend to be nowhere near as useful. One widget that takes up almost a whole screen is the Weather Widget. This is also an APP, which is confusing. I should really get rid of this widget, since I don't really need to know the weather across eight time zones. I'm not the much loved and retired weatherman, Ian McCaskill, as his lawyers have recently made clear to me. But I suppose, come winter, it would be nice to know there was somewhere even colder.I could then use Google Maps to find out exactly where it was, before pinning it to my Wishlist APP of places I need to visit before I die. I could then link that to Flicker and have all the pictures taken about that subject sent to me for my perusal, whilst I dine out at a restaurant that came to my attention through my GPRS linked ThingsILike2Eat APP.

I'm constantly downloading "APPS" at the moment. APPS is apparently short for Applications. This, for the uninitiated means things you can do on your phone when you are waiting for it to carry out its primary function of ringing. I've found loads of them. I never knew I could not do without SpaceWars until now. Apparently there are much more up to date games out there but, as someone who has still not mastered Sonic on my 6 year old Nokia, I have some catching up to do. I'm just pleased they are in colour. Pong has never been so interesting. I've also downloaded something called "AppKiller". This is an absolute must as it kills all the applications that are running in the background that you downloaded, tried once and then forgot all about that are doing such things as tweeting your location to the world when you are having a shit in the next door neighbours garden.  Since downloading this useful application I have found my battery now lasts rather longer than 32 minutes. I have also found that the number of unsolicited yet strangely prescient direct messages I was receiving from people on Facebook with less than wholesome screen names has dropped dramatically. I've been swopping APPS at work and having lots of discussions and feel very much like of the hip kids. Now, if only I could remember the words to a Justin Beiber song, I would be complete.   One word of warning though - this phone has a useful application that auto links some of your contacts in your phone to Facebook profiles and e-mail addresses and such like. This can be cause some employer/employee awkwardness if you give your phone to someone who offers to help you with a problem. I found this out today when a member of staff asked me who "Cockmaster" was. Truthfully I have no idea, but I assume they know me and I have their real name in my phone somewhere. Anyway, if its you, could you please let me know so I can link you to your real name! If I find out it is my sister, I will be quite shocked. I doubt it is though as she doesn't really have it in her. Well, not as often as she would like, at any rate.

I also downloaded Skype, which has proved to be a real boon. Thanks to Osk for pointing me in the direction of this fantastic tool. This brings me nicely on to my news round up. I read in the Guardian a few days ago that Sky are attempting to sue the makers of Skype on the grounds of trademark infringement. Apparently, the average consumer could easily confuse Skype with Sky on account of the fact that some of the letters are the same. I'll let you work out which ones. This is nonsense. On that basis drug dealers could sue the makers of Coke, the brewery who makes Tetley Bitter could sue the makers of Tetley Tea Bags, Durex could sue Andrex and the maker of hula hoops could sue the makers of, errrr,  Hula Hoops. Personally I think the consumer of these two services is just about savvy enough to work things out for themselves. One is an over-hyped service providing a service prone to hanging and frequent drop outs, and the other broadcasts television programmes into the homes of people on benefits who are too fat to get jobs. As a side issue, have you ever wondered why Virgin Cable as never made it into the homes of the unemployed and unemployable? I think its because there is no status symbol dish that says "I can afford telly".

In other news this week I see that the Creator of the Segway has accidentally careered off a cliff whilst riding one of the things. You really couldn't make it up. Of course it is terrible for his family who were said to be shocked and saddened by the fall [in share price], and my thoughts are with his family at this difficult time.

Lastly, I see that the beloved BBC newsreader and presenter of The Antiques Roadshow, Fiona Bruce, has been stalked in the most "sinister and disturbing" way.  Apparently a guy by the name of Peter Oakey bombarded her with love letters and flowers for a considerable period of time, despite being under a court restriction against doing just that. He was back in court today and it transpired that he had previous convictions for sending threatening letters to Basildon library. Ms Bruce is clearly concerned that the behaviour will escalate. Clearly with good reason. He's already escalated from sending threatening letters to an inanimate building to sending bunches of flowers to Ms Bruce. If it carries on at this rate he'll be converting to Catholicism and buggering school boys by Christmas. Apparently sentencing was adjourned as the judge wanted to see the psychiatric reports. Well, I can save him the time. The man's a nutter. On a serious note though, although I make light of this, being stalked is no laughing matter, as a police officer made very clear to me at 2am just the other day, and I hope, for the future quality of the Antiques Roadshow, that this man is put in prison or at the very least made to resign from parliament. Oh wait, that's not him.That's Peter Mandelson. Nothing sinister about him.

Anyway, that's about it from me. I'm off to download some more APPS I never knew I needed. And best of all they are mainly free. I am amazed that so many people are prepared to give of their time so selflessly with the sole aim of improving my life. Its wonderful and something I could never hope of doing. Mind you, I recently discovered a website choc full of naked people doing unspeakable things in the public privacy of their own homes for free and I couldn't do that either. Its £20 per 30 minutes minimum with me, more if you want me to pull in my stomach.  I take Paypal, Visa, Maestro and (as a reflection of the precarious economic times we live in) luncheon vouchers and dry cleaning tokens.

I thank you.

International Burn A Silly Whiskered Preacher Day!

Hello, devoted small throng. Sorry for the tardy postings. Its all been a bit manic. Great stories have come and gone, now washed from our five minute consciousness, never to be referred to. Shame really, as there have been some really good stories I would have liked to comment on - not least that mad bag who dropped the kitty in the wheelie bin. Ah well. It is certainly not the first story I have missed, and it certainly won't be the last either.

I have been vastly entertained and purturbed by the detached ramblings of a certain Preacher named Terry Jones*. Or maybe he was a pastor. Anyway, he is (or was) planning on burning as many copies of the Koran has he could lay his hands on (pardon the pun). He decided to do this after apparently deciding enough is enough. Needless to say this has caused international outrage. He operates out of a small church in Gainesville in Florida. So deranged does he seem to be, that he can't seem to rustle up more than 50 followers. This, is pretty pathetic in a country renowned for the fervent obedience of its religious nut jobs.  He must be really out there. Or perhaps they were just put off by his odd choice of facial whiskers. They are impressive in their awfulness. Of course almost every media source has been in utter outrage at such a thing. Me included. Although Fox is apparently offering to send him some gasoline and firelighters (not really). I suppose it just fuels the fire and we should not give this guy the publicity. I love what he has done with the trailer though, although am not totally sure about the typeface. It looks a bit 70's to me. I think he must have had some left over from his previous protest from around that time. I believe it may well have been directed at another minority group. In fact if you look closely at the trailer (and this image does not do it justice), you can just make out the "Burn a Paki" letters, hastily painted over. I should not laugh. He's clearly doing what God tells him. I guess that goes for those whiskers as well. For God spake unto him and said, "Listen, Terry. If you want to be taken seriously, grow some 70's biker whiskers".And so it came to pass.

I can't help but notice though, that he is not selling the event very well. It apparently goes on for three hours and, although the Koran is quite a big book, it aint gonna burn for a full three hours. Yet there is no mention of food or dancing, or even a raffle. It's not really grabbing me. Anyway, the stop press is that he has apparently decided to cancel this book burning in exchange for talks with the Iman who is planning on building a Mosque on the Ground Zero site (which he isn't, by the way - it's some distance away). I am sure the Iman will be more than pleased to meet this guy and will extend him every courtesy - in the same way you would be nice to a granny who was now a bit confused and dribbly, but had once given you ice creams and has probably left you something in her will. Residual pity is a wonderful thing. A friend of mine has said that freedom of speech is a right. I mainly agree with this, provided that it is also accepted that with freedom comes responsibility. I don't see much responsibility attached to this action, especially in light of the additional risk it could put our troops at. Its a shame that so many people who think he has a perfect right to do this (and I am not including my friend here) are the same people who would also like to see a law enacted which makes American Flag burning illegal. You can't have it both ways. If you could then Larry King would be on CNN forever and open each show with the words "Welcome once more, you crazy motherfuckers", before flashing a saggy tit at camera three. Anyway, enough said about this guy - apart from I have noticed (with the help of wordsearch) that Burn A Koran Day is an anagram of Run Abroad Yank. Nuff said!

* For legal reasons I should point out that Pastor Jones is no relation to that surrrealist nutter Terry Jones of Monty Python fame who used to like playing the piano in the nude and wearing womens clothing. I have no evidence that Pastor Jones has ever played the piano.

Weekly Round Up

Hello all,

Well its been an interesting few weeks. Ups and downs. I am now pleased to announce that I am now moving back to my old group for the next few months, which makes me very happy indeed.

I've not really been reading the papers much this week, so there will  be no slaggings off from me this time. I was lucky enough to be outside Baker Street station to snap a celeb the other day. I was very pleased, since the last celebrity I managed to snap was Piers Morgan, who really doesn't count. I DID get to light Rula Lenska's fag a while ago, but that probably doesn't count either, since nobody apart from me can apparently remember who she is.

Anyway, I was stood outside the station on Tuesday minding my own business when I heard a girl scream. I turned round and saw a group of people surrounding someone, so of course I assumed someone had collapsed. I immediately marched up to the crowd, my first aid skills honed, and was just about to give my usual lecture about teenage girls needing to eat properly, when I saw that the group of people were all happy. So, I then assumed that either it was Jordan herself who had collapsed, or that there was some other possible reason. It was then that I
noticed a cute youth smiling in the middle of this throng, signing autographs and posing for the camera. Having no fucking idea who it was, I of course reached straight for my camera and took the shot you can see top left. I discussed this at length with my two 50 something friends and we all decided we had no clue. However, it turns out that it is none other than an actor called Nicholas Hoult, who apparently plays someone called Peter Beale in a popular long running soap called "Eastenders". So that was a result. He was with a girl with big knockers and blonde hair and I took a picture of her as well, which I am not going to publish on account of the fact that she is not famous. Unfortunately, by the time I had whipped my camera out he was on his way down the street, and there is nothing more embarrassing(or possibly illegal) than a 40 year old man running down the street, chasing after some boy he has no clue as to the identity of. So the shot was a bit hasty. Anyway, he was kind enough to let me take this shot later when he had ditched the girlfriend, which was nice of him.

 

Anyway, if that was not enough celebrities I also went to see Peter Murphy tonight with Helen and Osk. Helen is a big Peter Murphy fan. Me and Osk didn't really know too much about him but we went in good faith and a jolly good time was had as well. In fact, as Osk has twittered: "I ...need to see that again"!. High praise indeed! I'll leave you with a picture of the over painted old goth. Sweet dreams.

Character References At Reasonable Prices

Hello all,

It's been a couple of weeks. Work is busy, busy, busy. Not much news round up to report cause I have not really been that aware of any - although I do believe Spain have deservedly won the World Cup. Not quite sure what sport that was for, but the cup did look lovely. A bit like a knob after a particularly heavy fucking session. A bit like Wayne Rooney, in that respect. I should not keep picking on Rooney though. Its not his fault he looks like he accidentally fell into an industrial potato peeler as a child. I will just say that I think he is one of the few Premier league footballers, who I would much prefer kept his shirt on at the end of the match. There is nothing quite so disconcerting as seeing someone with the body of an early forties paunchy Gazza attached to the nipples of a 12 year old. Its all very weird, if you ask me, and not at all right. Almost like they had built him out of the bits of footballers they had left over. ANWAY......

I was recently asked to provide a character reference for a very good friend of mine who has just moved house. Of course I was pleased to do so. I am so pleased with the results that I produce the letter I possibly sent for you all to see. It goes without saying that if any of my loyal 11 readers are ever in need of a character reference, you need only ask. Of course, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

To Whom it may concern,



I have been asked to provide a character reference for Michael Socrates, which I am more than happy to do.


I have known Michael since 1999, initially online and more recently when he moved to England with no notice, and with little more than the clothes he was standing up in.


During the first few months Michael worked hard improving his English and eventually found a job as a pork scratcher. He pursued this job with dedication and perserverence, only finally handing in his notice when he realised that there was absolutely no call for it, and that he had been badly misled by a dillusional crack addict called Bernard. He has now successfully established himself as an underpaid freelance something or other. All I know is it involves a Macbook and copious amounts of Stella.


I am sure you will find Michael to be a positive contribution to your household. He is well liked by me and many other people of all ages. Certainly, when he stayed with me and my partner, the large number of older gentlemen who used to stop by for half an hour or so, always left with a smile on their faces. That’s one of his most endearing qualities – that he can offer something to people of all ages.


Michael is very responsible when it comes to money and always spends it wisely and with a nod to the longer term. He tends to travel light but the possessions he has bought are always of the highest quality. For instance, I was very impressed with the set of digital weighing scales he bought that can weigh anything from a tenth of a gram, all the way up to a kilo. A word of warning though – he can get very possessive. I took them to work once when I was asked by the boss to make some pancakes for Pancake Tuesday and he screamed at me for a good hour when I got home that night about how much money I had cost him. He was right though, I should have asked.


Although Michael came from a background where personal hygiene ranked far lower for my liking down a list of priorities that included carrying water from the nearby well, I am pleased to say that he has made concerted efforts to improve in this area during the five years he stayed with us. He no longer forages in the bin for scraps and has learnt that the dinner table is not an appropriate place at which to scratch himself before dipping his natchos. In fact, our third housekeeper in as many months reported recently that she was now willing to clean the downstairs toilet, albeit still with some trepidation and at all times accompanied.


If I had one complaint about Michael, it would be his penchant for burning spoons, which he does, he tells me, to relieve stress. I have a drawer full of scorched ones. I recently invested in a box of cheap aluminium ones for him, but they have remained largely unused because apparently they melt too easily and make him sick. However, I think he now has his own spoon, so this should not be a problem.


Generally Michael keeps himself to himself. I really only noticed he was there at all during his 5am call to prayer. He does not swear, drink or cavort with women and I have never seen him lose his temper in a particularly violent way, although he does occasionally throw his shoes at you. And, although pets were never really my thing before Michael came to live with us, I find that, now he has gone, I am really missing the Llama.


I hope this gives you an accurate indication of the calibre of person you are inviting into your home. Of course, a letter can never give the full flavour of the person, so if you should need any more information please do not hesitate to contact me.






Yours faithfully






Philip Backhouse






P.S. Michael has left 12 boxes of ammonium peroxide bleach in my upstairs hall cupboard. He asked me to buy them for him as a present in May 2005, as he was thinking of taking up hairdressing with four of his friends. I assume he has gone off the idea, and I have certainly not seen his four hairdressing friends since early July 2005. As they are taking up room needed by my new tenant of equal goodstanding, Mr Glitter, could you ask Michael if he still wants them? I’ve tried calling him on the number I had for him but it seems to have been disconnected, and the numbers I had for his four friends just keep going straight to voicemail.


Wishing you the very best.