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