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