Festive Shopping

You may have noticed that the nights have drawn in and that the temperature has plummeted enough so that your testicles make a chinking sound whilst walking. This is called the festive season.
Apparently some little Jewish kid was born in a stable - whether this was a result of Jewish frugality I don't know but Ive always found Travel Lodges to be plentiful and reasonably priced. Later that night he was visited by a couple of wise men who bestowed him with the usual tat you get at Christmas namely socks, old spice, and peanuts. After much thought (about 5 minutes worth), I have come to the conclusion that this is the reason why we shop like a beggar who has won the lottery during December.

Anyway I'm digressing. Despite the supposed financial meltdown that Gordon Brown is saving us from there was no shortage of seasonal shoppers in town this weekend - each one of them carried bags filled to bursting point. I also noticed that pretty much every shop had some sort of sale in effect. If the effect of a recession is cheaper prices then I'm all for it. I realise that Our Lord Protector Gordon Brown will arse rob us in the years to come with ever higher taxes but at least we can have one last hurrah before the taxation-buggery commences.

One Last Thing: Merry Christmas One and All. I hope you have a great time.

The Kids are taking over.

I saw this parents evening notice at night school.

I realise that 1984 is part of the syllabus but do we really have to take it literally?

The Thick Bluey red line

Earlier this week whilst driving home from work members of her majesty's finest constabulary decided to pull myself and other motorists over to the side of the road at random. Was this a sign that PC Plod had decided take the initiative and breathalyze motorists in the afternoon after they had indulged in a few pints over a power lunch? Perhaps it was a signal that they were clamping down on uninsured drivers.

Judging by the number of bobbies present (15 - 20) and the obvious scale of the operation I was starting to wonder whether there had been an incident involving guns, drugs, bombs or even child abduction. I was asked how long I had owned the car, where I had been, and where I intended on going etc and judging by the large number of serious-faced coppers I figured it best not to give any clever answers as I'm only too aware that they can be a humour-less bunch at the best of times and trying to be smart with one just confuses them.

After a little while standing round trying to look completely innocent - which I was but still felt as though I should be making an effort to appear so - I asked the officer with the least scowling face what all this was about as they were continuing to pull car after car over to the side of the road.

"Red Diesel" he responded.

So the police have the means and numbers to pull drivers over with impunity to make sure that we're not swindling the chancellor out of his hard earned taxes but when it comes to walking the street supposedly tackling machine gun carrying yoofs they're nowhere to be seen? All this in an area where gangs of feral scousers are running around shooting 10year olds and covering up for each other?

I have lived in this area for at least 15years and despite problems with pissed/drugged driver all year round and the aforementioned hood rats I have never once been pulled over and asked to provide a specimen neither at Christmas or any other time. I have formed a loathing hatred of drunk drivers for very personal reasons and would not have a problem being asked to stop for a routine breath sample iff required but it seems that you're more likely to be pulled if you're trying to dodge exorbitant petrol taxes.

It does make you wonder where this country is going doesn't it?

Site Meter

I have updated the site meter as I'm sure the old one counted all my visits in the same way that viewing your own profile does. Thanks to Storm for posting it on his page for me to steal.

Have I really looked at my own profile 900 odd times?

One thing that really annoys me about this site is the fact that there doesn't seem to be any other way of viewing other peoples ramblings other than to click on your own profile and searching via location or interest etc.

Anyway, Ive got a few topics which I think worthy of sharing to the world up my sleeve and will post them as soon as I can be bothered.

The fuckwit factor

Working in an office has got to be one of the most uninspiring jobs known to man (or Woman).

Everyday it gets harder and harder to get out bed in the morning because I know I've got eight hours of the same routine to look forward to. Each day the same colleagues phone me up with the same problems. Namely:

1. My printer won't print - It's not switched on.

2. My printer's run out of ink - they've drank it.

3. My computers crashed, - Into their head when I get hold of them

4. The fax machine's broke - No, It's just run out of paper.

5. My mouse won't work - Because they've put it up their arse

6. I can't get on the Internet, - That's a good thing.

7. My computers crashed again - They never learn

8. My computer's slow - But not as slow as they are.

The people who phone me with these problems have all been working for this company for 10 years. You would think that after showing them how to fix these issues on numerous occasions they might have retained some of these helpful information, but I guess I'm not taking the Fuckwit factor into account.

The Fuckwit factor (similar to the X factor but without the singing) gives us the opportunity to identify those people who shouldn't breed. We all know of at least one fuckwit who may be a genuinely nice person but who would be doing more harm than good if they had offspring.

p.s. I know the picture has nothing to do with office workers but I thought my readers might like to see it.

enjoy.

A barometer of Public opinion

In order to provoke debate amoungst the population of our great land I have added a poll on the right of the page.

I'm sure the results of it will be of great interest and give a far more accurate representation of public opinion than those found on the BBC or Reuters.

My quest for world domination has just taken another great step forward.

Holland

Ive just got back from a trip to Holland.

Unfortunately it was not a "pleasure" trip that took in the sights and smells of Amsterdam's cafe culture but a work trip to see how our Dutch sister company does things. As you can imagine it was of great "interest".

Apart from dope and prostitutes I find Holland a boring country. For starters it's as flat as a pancake which results in the smallest incline in the road seeming akin to a fairground ride. At least England's roaming hills provide you with something nice to look at during an M6 tailback and a bit of a thrill when driving down one at speed - the added excitement of slamming your brakes on in order to avoid being spotted by the strategically placed Revenue Camera is also an experience familiar to many English folk I'm sure.

Spare a thought for those crazy Dutchmen who have nothing but flat fields and dike-jumping to entertain themselves with. Before someone starts banging on about the human rights of lesbians and how we should respect them and not try to jump over one, let me just say that I in no way condone the said action as the jumped over lady lover will probably beat several shades of shit out of you, let me just clarify what dike-jumping involves. It doesn't involve dungaree-wearing muff divers but dutch people attempting to jump over a small ditch or channel with a pole. I hear that it is immense fun but alas I wasn't fortunate enough to try it during my time there. One of our Dutch co-workers said that the next time we go over he will arrange for us to partake in the activity.

I wait with baited breath.

Zombie Queen

Today's most important news item: Pay attention to the last sentence.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7705870.stm

Even though dead dancing celebrities proves that they can defy death if it means a few extra minutes air time, the real juicy part of the story is that the Queen Mother is not dead - she's just been buried by the Queen in 2003.

I can't believe that no-one has noticed this before.

Twouble - pt.2

I don't want to go on and on about this as the media is doing a great job making sure we don't forget about it, but it does seem strange that Manuel would be embarrassed and upset about crude answerphone messages when his sweeter than sweet little Grand-daughter's chosen occupation is that of a "Satanic Slut".

Which is more embarrassing and upsetting?

The knowledge that Mr Brand has tupped her

or

That she is a willing servant of Satan?

I'll let you decide as I have nothing more to say on the issue.

In a lot of twouble

Its really is laughable when you consider the supposed mess the world's is in that England's main T.V. channels all report the Russel Brand/Jonathan Woss "scandal" as if it is the most obnoxious thing to happen ever.

I'm sure Manuel was most upset to hear about his Grand-daughters sexual exploits with Mr Brand but having almost constant 24/7 news coverage must be like rubbing salt in the wound - something which Basil Fawlty would take great delight in doing I'm sure. I found the Channel 4 coverage particularly galling as no sooner had they finished reporting with apparent moral indignation; than they were advertising Russel Brand's new comedy series set to go out on Channel 4 at some point in the near future. Still I suppose it was Channel 4 and if it is offensive to anyone anywhere in Britain then they see it as their duty to broadcast it.

Saying all this I don't really have an opinion on Russel Brand - okay he looks like a wannabe Captain Sparrow but if I had the chance to the investigate her intimate regions I probably would have done also (see picture). He has also given me cause to chuckle on occasion so I think I'll let him off with this one.

Johnathan Woss is a different matter though. This guy get millions to tell knob jokes every Friday night and has been past his sell by date since the 80's. I watched his chat show about two weeks ago for the first time in about 3 years and it hadn't changed a bit. He relishes incorporating his penis into every conversation whether it warrants penis talk or not. I think his todger is a little on the small side as he constantly has to reassure his guests of it's monstrous proportions.

I suppose I shouldn't moan too much as not hearing about wanker bankers is a welcome relief.

More credit woes

Over the years I was under the impression that Britain has one of the strongest economies in the world. If this is the case then why does Mr Brown need to borrow money. Surely we must have some reserves somewhere?!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/7680449.stm

Another question that I feel needs answering is where does this loan come from? LoansDirect.com?

The problem with credit is that at some point it has to be paid back - a concept that some people seem unable to grasp. Mr Brown is evidently one of these individuals and is not worried about the repayments as he won't be living at No.10 when the bailiffs come knocking.

No trouble

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/7670006.stm

This article made me titter to myself. It appears that much to our politicians surprise Lap Dancing clubs cause the local constabulary no problems on Friday or Saturday nights. As they were causing no ill effects on the weekend high street, it was deemed necessary to investigate them.

When deciding who to trust with this highly important mission one name rose up ahead of all of all others: Chief Inspector Studd.

After exhaustive investigation, Studd of the Met found that "such clubs were usually "well-run" and had a "high staff ratio to customers"". Unlike many local constabularies which are quite the opposite - perhaps they're all on special assignment at the Spearmint Rhino.

Perhaps my favourite part of the article is at the end.

"The rules, on how close customers can come to the dancers, for example, had proved difficult to enforce. With the best will in the world, when you get into the fine detail of it, as we have tried to do, on a couple of occasions, it's incredibly difficult to try and do that," added Chief Inspector Studd.

I'm just wondering whether Chief Inspector Studd and his officers took the proper health and safety precautions when "getting into the fine detail of it". Perhaps this means that the next time you visit your local lap dancing club and pay one of the young ladies to do what she does you can expect to see Officer Studd in his High-Vis jacket with tape meassure in hand, making the fine deatil remains just that.

Still crunching

So the American bail out came and went and it now transpires that we're still up the proverbial creek without a paddle. What's to blame for this terrible situation that we find ourselves in?
Individual members of the EU acting in their own interests rather than considering what's best for the EU as a whole. Now there's a surprise!
I guess it goes to show that even though we're all supposedly best EU buddies these days we still look after our own interests first. The fact that this comes as a shock to politicians is most amusing. After preaching to us all that the EU is mutually beneficial to all it's members it has become apparent that Europe's divisions run as deep as ever.
It's good to know that some things never change!

Captain Crunch

The credit crunch continues with increasing levels of hysteria and I find it amusing that all the Anti-American commentators in the media are suddenly looking to the big ol US of A to bail the world out of a problem that is the fault of each countries financial elite.

Of course I'm sure people of an anti-capitalist- "let's live in a cave sort of mentality" will be hoping that it all goes tits up and we can start putting all the bankers and middle class people in Gulags by the end of the year.

I've had a good think about the apparent financial meltdown recently and have decided to not get worked up about it as I'm one of those people who has never had a credit card, have a mortgage that I can afford, and have never tried to buy anything that the funds in the bank wouldn't allow.

For years Ive been called a tight arse by my friends and family but now find myself sitting back with a very smug grin on my face.

One year on.

This weekends Belgium GP marks my first birthday as a blogger.
Last year the race itself was a little dull but the atmosphere at the track certainly made up for it. After watching the event for years on T.V. I can safely say that in order to fully appreciate the challenge of Spa you have to be there for a race weekend. The coverage provided by ITV will undoubtedly be good with Martin "I'm better than every driver ever, despite not winning any races" Brundle and James "I'm rather annoying" Allen doing an admirable job conveying the on-track action; but as someone who has tasted the Ardenne air and had my ear drums pierced by the scream of an F1 engine blasting through Eau Rouge I will be sad all weekend for not being there.

I haven't been to a GP this year and I'm starting to get withdrawal symptoms.
Anyway, after a year of blogging my fan base is increasing all the time. Just the other day I had a gaggle of girls waiting outside my house in the hope of catching a glimpse of their literary idol. Their constant screaming kept the baby awake last night and iff it happens again I'm going to soak them with the hosepipe.

The paparazzi waiting outside my house are starting to get annoying. I had to get my bodyguards to push them out of the way so that I had a clear path to the limo that takes me to work everyday. Any day now I'm going to get a proposal from ITV to do a reality T.V. show. It'll be called "One day with the Genius" and will consist of showing people around my crib, dazzling them with my Fiat Punto, and making them really jealous by showing them just how fast my broadband connection is.

It's gonna be huge!

Procrastinating again

I have started another blog which I intend to fill with good news stories and things that I find amusing. In all honestly it is yet another work aversion strategy and I can't say how often it's going to get updated.

One day my boss will find this blog and I'm sure he won't procrastinate when it come to giving me the boot. I'm writing this entry as my motivation levels have once again plummeted to nil and I feel as though my head is going to implode.

I really do wish that I could get out of this never ending spiral of de-motivation. I can blame my job all day but the buck ultimately rests with me I guess. It's not as if I don't do anything with my day. The tasks that I have to do are done promptly and efficiently and once completed I find myself either checking the stock markets (on which I have no investments) or making skipping ropes out of paper clips as an alternative to completing the remainder of my work load.

The beautiful game

I have tried many times to "get into" football but each attempt has ended in failure. My Father and Brother have been avid fans of the game for as long as I can remember and on numerous occasions I have attempted to do a bit of male bonding with them and watch a game with them. During the last world cup - whenever that was - I watched the first of England's games in their presence. I sat on the sofa with a can of beer in hand with every intention of giving it my undivided attention for the full 90 minutes. This was obviously a very important occasion for them. Seemingly as important as the birth of their first children.

By the end of the first half I had fallen asleep.

I was awoken by the pair of them standing over me, obviously irked by my lack of interest. I tried explaining that if footballers looked a little bit more like the lady in the photo then I might be able to stay awake and actually finish watching a game but I don't think saying this was particularly helpful. They reminded me of the fact that the country's reputation was on the line and that I should take more note of what was going on. It's a sad state of affairs when England's reputation hinges on the performance of our sporting teams. Having an already shaky reputation abroad I tried persuading them that relying on our lacklustre sporting teams to bolster foreign public opinion was like betting your house on number 27 at the local casino - bloody marvellous if it worked but inherently flawed as the chances of finding yourself living under a bridge are better than a Jihadist getting peeved at another danish cartoonist.

Work Experience

Oh what joy - I have a French work experience student working with me this week.

A young chap of 20, he is polite and speaks exceptional English as opposed to my infantile French. One thing I have always regretted is giving up languages at school as I now feel like an ignoramus when I meet people from the continent who can speak at least two languages. Anyway, I'm struggling to think of things that he can be doing whilst in my charge and I'm sure that he is spending the majority of his time playing World of Warcraft and looking at french-titties.com .

I'm not sure how I feel being lumbered with him. One side of me thinks that I should take the young fellow under my wing and show him a great time and give him an experience that will stand him in good stead in days to come and the other side of me thinks, "This little fucker could be taking my job in a few years so make sure he learns fuck-all".

This morning I have given him the rather riveting job of noting down the serial numbers from every computer, printer, and monitor in the building. This won't take him too long as we only have 20 of each. This afternoon I think I'll get him counting how many plastic cups we have - I know for a fact that the number runs into the thousands. If he finishes that then I'm sure that I'll be able to find him something even more worthy of his talents like counting the number of staples we have in the stationery cupboard or getting him to reconstruct a shredded letter. You may think me cruel but I'm sure he will benefit greatly from the valuable experience I will give him thus making him a valuable asset to any future employer.

He's a very naughty boy

Exactly how would we know if Jesus had returned?

He would have to do something really impressive in order to convince people he was the real deal that's for sure. He wouldn't be able to play the walking-on-water card that he did way back in the day as we've seen it done hundreds of times on T.V and we'd all think he was a David Blaine wannabe. Turning water into Smirnoff Ice would certainly get the attention of Friday night binge drinkers but would they remember on Saturday morning? I suppose he could record it on his mobile phone and post it on you-tube but he'll have his work cut out if wants to compete with face plants and happy-slaps.

Tony Blair recently said that he kept his faith secret whilst in office because he believed that people think you're a nutter iff you talk about you're religious faith in this country. If Jesus did start telling people he was the resurrected Messiah then he would be pumped full of drugs, put in a straight jacket, and sectioned under the mental health act.

The last person I can remember professing to be the reincarnation of Jesus was David Icke and he's really gone on to great things hasn't he!

A question of perception

In these days of self-imposed exile from news websites I have still been thinking about current affairs but have started to view things slightly differently.

Last night whilst having a smoke in the garden I started to think about why so many people still regard Britain as a nasty piece of work. I came to the conclusion that it is the unfortunate legacy of once having an empire that expanded across the globe killing, plundering, and raping as it went.

In these globalised days where we are all supposed to be much more enlightened Britain still comes in for a lot of flack for being imperialist and putting it's interests before anyone else's. To me this is the way the world is and I really don't think that we should feel all that bad about it because every man and his dog is doing the same. I also think that compared to countries like Saudi Arabia where women aren't allowed to drive or be in the company of unrelated men we are like the Walton Family.

As we try and fix the wrongs that we have done in the past we should remember that as a nation we are on the right path and take comfort in the fact that although we are still involved in conflicts in far-away lands at least we have managed to reduce the number of people we are killing by a massive amount. The number of people unfortunately killed in Iraq and Afghanistan pale into insignificance when compared to the amount of people killed by our fore-fathers in Africa, France, Germany, The Falklands, America, and countless others.

Midnight Mingus

Keeping yourself away from news & current affairs programmes is very difficult. After my first aborted attempt at doing so last year I gave up after a few days on my own volition, but this time I'm determined to maintain as low a level of news input as possible.

This means that when in the car I have to be very careful what I listen to as I run the risk of hearing any doom and gloom that is being broadcast on the airwaves and inadvertently crash into a crowd of nuns; and therefore, perversely contribute to the chronic pessimism that I'm trying to avoid. I now have three options whilst driving.

1. Listen to a CD
2. Turn the radio off every time a news bulletin starts
3. Drive in silence.

Driving with the window down and the radio off allows me to relax alot more than if I have a cd on and I simply can't abide Radio 1 & 2 or any commercial radio station. Radio 4 is all well and good but I have had to ban it on account of it's many current affair's programmes. Driving up the M6 on this Saturday just passed I thought I would do something wacky and listen to Radio 3 as I had no memory of ever doing so before. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that It was a rather pleasurable experience. For the majority of my trip it played Jazz music and as someone who has not heard much Jazz before I found it refreshing to listen to. So instead of going back to doom and gloom news stories I think I'm gong to immerse myself in the world of cool Jazz.

Nice

Costa - profiteering from caffeine addiction?

This weekend just past the unthinkable happened. I had a Latte from Costa that tasted terrible.

I have noticed the quality of Costa's latte slowly going downhill but put had this down to bad luck on my part, after all, even Bob Dylan has written a few stinkers. It has also been several weeks since my last visit to one of the franchise's establishments due to a number of factors.

1. Poor service

2. Condescending staff

3. Dirty toilets

4. Broken high chairs

5. Terrible coffee.

Regular readers to this blog (yeah right!) will remember reading about my love affair with the Italian coffee house but I'm afraid to say that it is now ranked below Starbucks when it comes to serving a decent latte.

The young lady serving me asked if I wanted an extra shot of espresso in my drink which was something that I had never been asked before by any Costa employee. At the time I thought nothing of it but upon pouring the faintly coffee flavoured warm milky drink down my gizzard I realised why she had asked - the coffee content was virtually nill and instead it was a like a drink that my mother used to give me at bed time when I was still a bain. I'm sure that they (Costa) have reduced the standard espresso shot they put into each Latte so that the mug (customer) has to spend extra in order to get their caffeine fix. As a caffeine addict I find this deplorable and will be takng the matter up with the relevant human right department - after Ive finished my coffee that is.

I now proclaim Nero to be the king of the high street coffee house. At least you can taste the coffee that you're paying for.

News Blackout - take 2

After my little rant last week about the coming Apocalypse I'm trying to be more positive as all the negative media I had been reading has left me feeling depressed. Maybe I need another news black out. The last time I did this I felt great for a few days but like anyone whose tried to give up smoking will know, you have to make that you make sure that you have no access to cigarettes at all. This will mean forbidding the good woman from watching any news programmes in my presence, and attempting to self-govern which websites I go on.

This second point will perhaps be the hardest one to do as I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to the world wide web. Having my own office and an attention span shorter than a goldfish's makes it extremely likely that, at some point during my working day, I will get the overwhelming urge to flick onto Reuters or the BBC for a quick sneaky peak at the days events. For all the good things it does the Internet is the mother of all distractions. Take this blog for example. Hardly anyone except myself ever reads it but I feel compelled to keep writing - usually as an alternative to doing any work. The same can be said for news websites. They are great at distracting me from what I should be doing but I end up feeling mad about things over which I have no control. So Iran is flexing it's muscles in response to Israel's posturing. In what possible way will I be able to do anything about it other than getting mad about the possibility of another war which will no doubt involve us and the extra money that I will have to pay at the petrol pump.

So as of now I'm having another no news day.

Feel free to join in and feel good about society again!

We're All Doomed I tell ya!

If you're one of those people who likes to flick between news channels then you will have noticed that everyday there seems to be more evidence that Britain is now only one step away an Apocalypse.

a few examples:

Kids are now spend more time mugging old ladies and stabbing each than they do playing with lego, If they do decide to stay indoors and play xbox then they become obese,

We're all going to get trampled by some giant carbon foot, the ice caps will melt and warm the planet up (this isn't necessarily a bad thing), we'll all have to start bottling our farts to help preserve the ozone layer,

Immigrants have taken all our jobs and set up refugee camps in our back gardens,

Our house's aren't worth the money we paid for them, and our currency is worth about the same as Duck turd,

The right wing want to deport all people who can't trace their ancestry back to some pre-roman pagan sect, the left wing tell us we're responsible for all the wrongs in the world ever and we should give all our money to some African charity,

All men are bastards who drink too much, smoke too much, eat too much, fight too much, don't spend enough time with their kids, don't pay attention to their woman's "needs",

Women don't get the same amount of pay, can't have children, have too many children, drink too much, smoke too much, fight too much, don't have their "needs" met,

Schools are crap because we don't have enough teachers because they don't want to be prosecuted for raising their voice to a child, they're full of knives, drugs, guns, & pedophiles, exam's aren't marked correctly,

Our Hospitals are under-funded, full of health tourists, voilent, and so dirty that they kill more people than they cure,

We haven't got enough prison places, but we can't build more because we shouldn't be sending people there as it's not their fault they've committed crime, so we give them community sentences which people consider a soft option, meanwhile we prosecute people who defend their homes,

We hate the government and are seriously considering electing another government that we used to hate,

We're racist, homophobic, xenophobic, fattist, thinnist, Islamaphobic, anti christian, & anti-Semitic,

Oh, and it hasn't stopped raining for a whole week!

GTA IV - not realistic shocker!

It's been at least two months since I last switched the Xbox on but yesterday I got the chance to do just that when the nipper decided to take an unexpected two hour nap. GTA 4 was the game of choice and I had a great time acting out the activities of hooded youths up and down the country by shooting innocent bystanders, stealing cars, drug dealing, and procuring the services of prostitutes.

Despite the great graphics and sheer scale of Liberty City I found that it's portrayal of the criminal fraternity to be somewhat lacking.

A few points I noticed:

1. It's not possible to take over street corners with your virtual crew,

2. You can't happy slap anyone whilst being recorded by one of your rat faced mates, and then upload it to you tube,

3. White Lightning is nowhere to be found,

4. There isn't an option to walk around with your hand down the front of your tracksuit,

5. Somewhat confusingly, you actually have to do things in exchange for money rather than recieving an amount of money from the in-game benefit system.

I thought that next-generation games were supposed to be realistic.

I'm giving serious consideration to reporting Rockstar and Microsoft for false advertising.

Fork N Knife

So the pretender to the Prime Ministerial crown, one David "Hug a Hoodie" Cameron, is going to introduce new laws in order to put knife wielding hoodies in gaol if he gets elected. Here I was presuming that it was already illegal to carry one but I guess that's another thing I'm wrong about.

Forgive me for being sceptic but I'm not entirely convinced that this will stop all those teenage stabbings we hear about on an almost nightly basis. Maybe the popular pursuit of banning the selling of tobacco should be stopped and the attention shifted to the sale of knives. This weekend just passed I happened to walk past a shop that had a number of blades on display - all of them looking like they would be a great addition to any hoodrat's arsenal .

It may be difficult for the Burberry massiv to buy 20 L&B but from what I can tell it doesn't require Mensa membership to get legitimately tooled-up.

Red or Blue?

I thought I would take a break from moaning about my employment and turn my grumblings onto a topic that many bloggers feel qualified to talk about - politics.
If current polls are to be believed (not that they ever should) then it looks as if we will have a new government at the next general election - whenever that may be. The problem I have is that I see no point in voting for a party who is obviously not going to get elected namely, The lib dems, The greens, UKIP, The BNP, or some other one issue party. This leaves me with three choices, either I can choose NOT to vote (which isn't an option), or put an X in one of the boxes saying Tory or Labour.
I don't always vote in a bi-election due to factors like apathy, but I do like to make a point of casting my vote in the general election as it makes me feel qualified to talk politics with my friends who went to university.
I like to think that I'm a middle of the road sort of chap but at the moment I'm really not swayed either way .
The last ten years under labour have been alright for me. I've always been able to get a job, I've had opportunities to further educate myself, and I've never been in debt, which gives makes me think that I should back Labour to win. My only experience of Tory rule is that of a politically uninterested child/teenager to whom politics was something you thought about when suffering from insomnia. I can remember talk of sleaze and recession in the early nineties and of the deep unpopularity of one M.Thatcher.
But the last few years I have noticed a real shift in the way that Labour are perceived by myself and my peers. It seems as if everything they touch turns into a shambles and I have an image of them not being able to find any beer in a brewery. Once Tony Blair had gone I thought that Gordon Brown would be a breath of fresh air and bring a bit of dignity back to the labour party but it hasn't quite happened like that has it?!
The Torie's on the other hand seem full of pomp and self importance, a necessary commodity for politicians it seems, with a sack full of soundbites and gimmicks to throw about. They appear to be ticking some of the right boxes with the electorate, but are they going to be able to deliver? As of this moment I'm not convinced and I'm going to have to give much thought to the topic between now and the election.
Just what the blogosphere needs - more political opinion!

Moaning about my Job - Again

My future career path is slowly taking shape. I have chosen to do one night a week for twelve weeks initially and then progress onto the harder, more intense stuff once this has been completed. This however, does not solve the problem of being stuck in a job I'm not very keen on.

I don't want to bang on about how bad my job is because in many ways it's one of the better occupations Ive had - but in this instance I will.

My of biggest gripe is the management. For some reason they seem to think that you instantly know what they're talking about without ever explaining what it is they want. Often, the only way of finding out what they are on about is by trial and error. One facet of my role here is to look after all the IT equipment. I'm regularly kept out of discussions relating to the IT infrastructure and when attempting to get in on the conversation I'm met with " Well it doesn't really concern you". Of course it bloody well does, what do you think I'm being paid for?! It's seems that they see me as someone to blame when it all goes wrong or it doesn't do what they were expecting it to but at no point do they think it worth while to discuss their requirements or expectations beforehand.

Another thing that confuses me is the belief that staff meetings are irrelevant and useless. To my mind, if you're staff know what is going on in the wider picture then they can react better to any problems that may be confronted with.

Unfortunately my wage is rather good and I would be hard pushed to find a similar financial package elsewhere, especially in this economic climate. At least night school will be providing me with a little light at the end of the tunnel.

Playground Antics

I was in the middle of a difficult situation yesterday, one that I last saw whilst in year 11. I will spare the banal details but the end result was two grown men standing toe to toe ready to start exchanging knuckle sandwiches.

It happened around 3.00pm and has left me shocked and dissapointed. I'm friends with both parties and I'm appalled that they could could reduce it into such neanderthal behaviour. After much mud slinging one of the would be pugilists walked away whilst uttering expletives leaving the other, a former military man, with tears in his eyes.

It seems that when the bosses are away tempers flare and the reigns of power are left up for grabs to those who think they are the heir apparent.

I need a new job!

Monday.....again

Ok so I didn't sit down and go through the mountain of college prospectuses and course information that's been sitting on the arm of the sofa for the past month - but I did have a nice weekend which has given me a renewed sense of enthusiasm for the week ahead.
Luckily none of the senior figures are in work this week meaning that I have my office all to myself. I'm thinking of all the mischief I could get up to and all the naughty websites I could be looking at whilst the cats are away!
This week might not turn out to be that bad afterall!

Back to the grindstone

Our two week holiday in Cornwall came and went with the speed of an Arabian race horse at Aintree Races and I now find myself sitting at my desk at the end of my first week back wondering whether the last three weeks were all a dream.

We had a really great time whilst away and the mind numbing tedium that is my job was forgotten about enabling me to feel free again! It took until Wednesday of this week for the post-holiday blues to set in but once they did they took hold like a vice.

Bloody hell I need a change of career.

This is something that I have been slowly investigating over the last few months and this weekend I'm going to set aside an afternoon, most probably Sunday, to go through the options that appeal to me, and nail something down. The excitement that accompanies venturing into a new career is not new to me. I'm currently in my second deviation, the first being nursing which lasted for 6 years. I currently now work in an office environment and now realise that I was right all those years ago when I said that an office job wasn't for me. Why did I take such a job if I was sure it wasn't the right one?

Nothing ventured nothing gained I suppose. The idea of regular daytime working hours, having each and every weekend and public holiday off, and actually working for myself instead of everyone else was too tempting to resist. Having my weekends spread over Monday and Tuesday was not conducive to a happy life and the constant sickness and misery that I encountered during my working hours eventually left me drained.

Such is life.

Anyway I digress. Here's a few images from our trip.

As you can see - those dirty horrible English beaches really do look terrible!

History Repeating

Tomorrow we set off for the delightful Lands End. Well, to be honest I'm not entirely sure that it is delightful as the last time I went there I was about 5 years old. When planning our holiday we had to take into account the little cherub (who is 5 months old now). A trip to the continent was initially the favourite but once we sat down to organise it we found a few limiting factors namely,the inflated cost of staying in a hotel once you admit to having an ankle biter in your entourage, the fact that every destination we investigated was chav infested and somewhere we would usually avoid going, Air travel, because we simply do not know how she will react to it and don't want to spend the entire time worrying about the return flight if the outward one was taxin, the heat of potential Mediterranean resort, and an irrational fear of foreign baby snatchers.

Taking these factors into account we decided to stay in blighty. My earliest memory of holidaying is of Lands End and I decided that it would be a nice way of inducting the daughter into the wonderful world of travel. We also know that she settles down nicely on car journeys and felt that this was also another plus point to staying domestic.

I will post a few piccies on my return.

Procrastinating Visitors

The visitor map that's displayed on the right hand side of the page has experienced some activity recently with people visiting from Ireland, The Americas, India, Eastern Europe, and somewhere in Indonesia.

To all you curious blog travellers I say hello. I often wonder whether anyone actually reads any of this but seeing all the new red dots appear over the last week has been exciting as I can now take comfort in the fact that there is someone who spends at least a second flicking over my work-aversion technique.

However you managed to stumble across my banal ramblings I hope that some of them will cause you to raise a smile or pause for a minute in contemplation. Please feel free to say hello in the comments section and I will be only too pleased to read your blog in return for spending a few minutes perusing mine.

GWOT

A few weeks ago I did the unthinkable and judged a book by its cover. The book in question was "Where in the world is Osama Bin Laden?". I thought it might be a light hearted but serious book aiming to find at the worlds most elusive figure. The artwork on the cover made me quietly chuckle to myself and as it was written by Morgan Spurlock (of super size me fame), I thought it might be quite good.

The first chapter deals with impending fatherdom (a topic with which I could identify), and attempts to explain some of the main reasons why America is hated by the rest of world so much. Anyone living in a cave (Mr Bin Laden excluded) might be unaware of the latest "conflict" and will find a good "why the world hates America 101 lesson" within it's pages. For those of us with access to Television and the internet however, the causes of western hatred have already been documented at great length, and I felt that this book doesn't add anything new to the mix.

What you will notice when you start reading it (I did anyway) is that it's quite obviously aimed at a younger American audience and at times can be like watching an episode on MTV cribs. I'm sure that fans of Mr Spurlock will find the book (and the newly released film which I haven't ruled out hiring on DVD in a few months) to be entertaining and Informative at the same time.

One point that really annoyed me about this book is in one of the first chapters. The chapter which deals with religious extremism in the UK is good up to the point where he says he visits Liverpool in Lancashire.

For the life of me I can't remember when Liverpool changed county. Perhaps moving into Lancashire was neccessary inorder for it to be crowned Capital of Culture.

All in the mind

A new chap started at work this week. Seems pleasant enough but he does have a resemblance to David Brent and a tendency to finish my sentences for me. This would not be bad thing if he knew how I intended to finish them. It is causing me much confusion as his interruptions throw my thinking off track and I tend to forget the initial point of our conversation which leaves me with a blank expression on my face whilst I try to remember my initial point.

I put these little annoyances down to the fact that he is new and trying to appear willing and eager to do a good job. Once he's settled down I'm sure he will be fine as he has exhibited more intellect than the other workers in the office.

One thing that he did say however made me think. Upon investigating I discover that he is the same age as me (30) and he was adamant that he was an old fart, full of aches and pains. As I have just reached this milestone age I feel I'm qualified to comment on his declaration of knackeredness. At no point in the last two weeks have I felt any different to when I was twenty one - this is not entirely true as I like to think myself less arrogant than I was back then and a little more worldly and wise.

I've come to the conclusion after much deliberation over a cigarette and a coffee that feeling one's age is all in the mind. If you're convinced you're a coffin dodger at 30 then that's exactly how you're going to feel.

I think I'll have an extra rendition of wheels on the bus with the little one when I get home in order to keep myself feeling sprightly.

Hype

No matter how many times I try and kid myself that I'm impervious to marketing hype and spin, I usually get swept up in the euphoria that accompanies long-awaited computer games. Yesterday saw the release of GTA IV and I dutifully went to the nearest game shop and handed over forty notes for it. It's not that I didn't want the game, indeed I did, but the sense of having to have it on the day of it's release was overwhelming. The world's problems would be erased as long as I got hold of a copy on the day of release. This is of course utter nonsense and I soon felt cheap, dirty, and used after purchasing it.

The game itself is actually quite impressive and will keep me busy until the next big thing. Especially as I don't really have that much time to play games anymore. After the excitement of buying it and bringing it home I was only able to play it for an hour or so due to a number of factors.

1. Being tired after working all day
2. Looking after baby
3. Looking after the good woman
4. Being 30
5. Struggling to stay up past 21:30

Still the weekend is on the way so maybe I will find a bit of time to cause some digital mischief. Providing I don't want an early night with my cocoa.

The other side of the hill

On Sunday I left the last bastion of youth and entered into adulthood. No longer am I a hip and happening twenty-something but a wily old veteran of thirty years life experience. With this new spring in my step I'm now entitled to see things a certain way.

I can now state with authority that things aren't as good as they were in my day.
I can now laugh at the latest pop icons for their recycled fashions and sounds, safe in the knowledge that Ive seen and heard it all before.
Police men now look as if they can't grow beards,

To prove that us thirty-somethings still have the ability to rage against the machine I openly admit to putting plastic bottles in the glass recycling box - so what you gonna do about that Mr Brown?

Happy St Georges Day

Well our national day is upon us and apart from the odd story of patriotism here and there I have seen no mention of it in the media during the days and weeks leading up to it. Only once have I had the fortuity to participate in celebrating all things English and that was in a pub in Australia.

The Aussies certainly know how to celebrate their national day by having parties and letting off fireworks, the same can be said for our other colonial cousins the Canadians who celebrate theirs with equal amounts of gusto.

Maybe in a year or two we might get an extra day off to celebrate....here's hoping

A Load of Rubbish

I had to cram the last bag of rubbish into the wheelie bin this morning making it impossible to close the lid fully. Normally I wouldn't give it a second thought but Ive just read this:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/cumbria/7360147.stm

I wonder if I'll get a reduced sentence by testifying against my neighbour for not recycling?

It could be you - or not

I went to Tesco's on Saturday to buy some cigs. Whilst queing up for my cancer sticks, out of the blue came a strong urge to chance my luck on the lottery. I haven't entered into the dream of millions for a number of years but for some devine reason felt a strong compulsion to enter Saturday's draw. Such a powerful urge to be "in it to win it", made me feel justified in spending an extra two pounds (I put two lines on), how could I loose?

I got three numbers.

Spread across two lines.

Back to work for another week.

Another Blog

Rather than just writing for writing's sake I have started another blog about our trip to Belgium and France last year. On that trip I visited numerous First World War sites and was overwhelmed at the scale of devastation and loss that was experienced by both sides.

I feel that we have much to learn from this period in history but now that the final members of that generation are fewer and farther between we are in danger of forgetting just what it was they endured.

Religious Salesmen

I'm not a member of any particular faith but I have adopted a few of the principles that are common to most of the good ones, namely;

Being good,
Not murdering anyone;
Apologising when I've done something wrong,
Being respectful of others etc

The more i watch T.V. and read articles on the tinernet the more difficult it is to escape religious thought and rhetoric. Every faction seems to want to promote the requirements of their own particular belief. If I decided to nail my colours to the post and pick a faith to follow would I need to phone around and get a few quotes from religious salesmen in order to get the best deal? Would they then try to entice me into their brood with a few incentives?

For example:

Cashback for converts to Judaism.
Catholic converts get a few bottles of wine thrown in.
For converting to Islam you get a free trip to Mecca Bingo.

As this contract will probably be in force for the rest of your life I would strongly recommend checking the small print before signing anything.

A few clauses I have found:

Judaism - Being circumcised.
Catholicism - Lots of kids.
Muslim - Growing a beard.

I hope this helps anyone thinking of changing faith get a good deal.

Phrase of the Day

"You never know whats around the corner"

I don't know why so many people keep saying this.

I know exactly what's around the corner.

A bank
A card shop
Tesco's
A Post Office (although it might not be there much longer)
A grocery shop (also might not be there much longer due to Tesco)
A Railway Station
A chip shop

Am I psychic or what?!

Costa Junkie

It used to be that I would do something outlandish with my weekends but these days I seem to have a burning desire for the sedate. Take Saturday for example. The sixth day of the week has become my day to take control of the child and do whatever I see fit which is great as it means I get to spend quality time with the little cherub and my good woman gets a chance to put her feet up and enjoy a well deserved break from child rearing. Once I've managed to get myself out of bed (which is easier these days as my idea of a wild Friday night is playing Xbox until 11:00) I strap little 'un into her car seat and away we go to the nearest Costa.

I order a chicken and bacon sandwich and a medium size Latte (I can't figure out what the official Costa term is for medium - grande, midi or some other fancy foreign word.) and sit down at my favourite table which is located at the rear of the establishment. This table is always empty so I like to think that it is my own personal spot that only gets used when I turn up. For the rest of the week I like to think it is roped off, reserved for their favourite customer should he happen to pop in. This has led me to wonder whether I have become a "Norm from Cheers" type of character.

I find a newspaper (preferably not a red-top one as I like to spend more than 5 minutes reading it from cover to cover) and settle in for the next hour. One advantage of having to push a pram around is that my order is brought to my table rather than having to wait in line. During this she will be sleeping like a, well, baby and doesn't wake up for at least an hour. Maybe it's something to do with the coffee aroma.

Sundays are reserved for all three of us to do something together and yesterday was no exception. First stop was the swimming pool where I was surprised to find that Little angel didn't cry when repeatedly dunked under the water. Instead she looked at us as if to say, "is that all you got?".

Once we had dried off I was again adamant that we should go back to Costa. Similarly to smoking I can always find a reason for a medium Latte in my favourite spot. If someone wanted to shoot me I'm sure they would have no problems tracking me down on a weekend.

BA - (British Arseholes)

I awoke this morning to the earth stopping news that as a result of Heathrow's fifth terminal being a total cock-up; Britain's air traffic was at a standstill.
For us living outside of the M25 everything seems to be going tickedy boo thank you very much but after I've stopped laughing I will spare a thought for all those poor people forced to spend another night in London.
My previous experiences of BA are not good so I find it rather amusing that it has been found out for being an incompetent airline masquerading as a great British institution.
Only once have I flew BA and this was out of a misguided sense of patriotism. I had been out of the country for nigh on 18 months and thought the idea of returning to the motherland on Britain's flag carrying airline to be a jolly good one. They were by no means the cheapest option available but It was one of the rare occasions where I have felt a sense of brand-loyalty. I was looking forward to "cup of tea Mr Genius", or even a "Would sir care for a hot towel?" but I soon found that the air hostesses were of the obnoxious variety. A smile was obviously too much to ask for and expecting a anything other than a Vicky Pollard shrug of the shoulders was plainly stupid of me.

Phrase Of the Day

Fuckhole

Is it really two words? I neither know nor care because this is the best collection of letters I have seen in years. I realise that it is obviously an American phrase, but this proves that not everything to come out of the land of the Cheese Burger is bad.

What a glorious way to insult someone you despise. Oh how I would love to call one of my colleagues a whithered old fuckhole.

The look on her face would be worth my instant dismissal.

The fuckhole

Back to work

It was really nice to have four consecutive days off without needing a sick note.
It goes without saying that I watched the Malaysian GP - thanks to the little one I managed to see it live - but unfortunately it was not as exciting as the previous one in Melbourne.
Ferrari are back to their old tricks, i.e. winning, and Mclaren looked as if they shot themselves in the foot on a couple of occasions during the weekend.
It was good to see Webber finally getting some just deserves for Red Bull and BMW continuing to look quicker at each event.
A smiling Jenson Interceptor was nice to see instead of the grimacing individual he became last year.

Role on Bahrain.

Good on ya BBC

I just heard the news that from 2009 Formula 1 will be broadcast on the BBC. For once I think the BBC has got it right. It may blur out the tobacco sponsorship on some of the cars (just in case they offend someone), but at least we won't have to suffer anymore bloody adverts.
The ITV broadcast has been really informative and was far superior to the coverage provided previously by the beeb but those adverts are a real pain in the ass. During a processional race (not uncommon for F1) ITV would invariably cut to an advert only to miss the only bit of on-track drama.
I guess this was down to sods law but it was (and still is) highly irksome.
All we need now is for Murray Walker to come out of retirement and the re-introduction of Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain" as the musical score and it will be F1 Nirvana.

Oh, and to get rid of Martin "I never won a race but still think I'm better than every driver ever" Brundle.

Well Done Lewis

Due to be being a responsible parent these days, I decided against staying up all night to watch the first GP of the season live from Melbourne. The race was due to be re-run by ITV at 3pm later that day so I had to dodge any programmes that might spoil the result for me.
I had managed to stay in the dark as to the outcome of the race until half an hour before it was due to start. It was at this point during the pre-race build up that my helpful brother walked into the room and said:"it was a piece of piss for Hamilton wasn't it?!"
I won't tell you what I said in response to this but it wasn't nice.
Indeed it was a piece of piss of Mr H, but the race between the rest of the cars was good fare. It was great to see an F1 car sliding through corners again as opposed to being artificially helped. The engines now sound as if they can breathe again thanks to the banning of the oxy-moronic device that is traction control. These are the best drivers in the world racing the best cars, surely TC has no place in the sport.
I was particularly pleased to see Sebastian Bourdais do well as I think he has been deserving of a race seat for quite a while. I last saw him race in Champ Car at Surfers Paradise where he clinched his second title.
Lewis was in a class of his own and hopefully he can keep it up for the rest of the season. Kimi looked like a different driver - making mistakes etc - so it will be interesting to how he comes back in the next couple of races.
All in all it was a great way to start the season and I can't wait to watch them go at it in round two next week.

Save the Planet!

The queen is to open a fifth terminal at Heathrow today.

Good for her.
Does Heathrow really need another terminal? To be perfectly honest I haven't got a bally clue. What I have noticed is the buzzword "carbon footprint" being thrown about by every politician and eco-warrior in an attempt gain green kudos points. Just walk down the high street in your town or village and keep a mental note of the number of times you see a shop advertising it's green credentials just so you can feel all warm and fuzzy knowing that you have done you bit when you buy some of it's ware.

I also noticed the protesters who climbed onto the fuselage of a plane with a banner stating their opposition to the new terminal. Yesterday we had a chap run onto the runway in order to either: blow something up or attract attention to a particular cause (the terminal 5 one I'm guessing).

I'm all for saving the world but I must admit that I'm very loathe to give up flying. Given the choice between a week on a sunny beach or a damp weekend caravaning in skeggy, which do you think I'm going to go for?

National No Smoking Day

Today is National No Smoking Day.

Do days like these actually make a difference? Apparently 1 in 5 smokers intend to put an end to this most heinous of habits today all because these whiter than white do gooders have proclaimed it so.

As an ex ex smoker I can speak with a little authority on the subject. Having someone provide you with a day to kick the weed makes not a jot of difference. I for one had no idea that today was any different from yesterday and iff I did then I would have lit a cigarette in protest.

Instead making us feel more guilty than pedophiles by banning us from mixing with the rest of society why don't our bleeding-heart guardians use their purile ideals to invent some useful theme-days?

We could have:

Leave the general populous alone day,

They're big enough to make up their own mind day,

Stop being so high and mighty day,

Actually do something useful instead of making us feel shit about ourselves day,

Rant over.

Im going for a fag.

A new season approaches

Finally, after six months (or thereabouts) of waiting the new F1 season gets underway.
If you are anything like me you will have been watching the winter testing times on a daily basis. The seemingly unstoppable growth of you tube has enabled us grand prix anoraks to have a daily dose of new F1 machinery which has only whetted our appetites even more.
Year after year I fight off the effects of fatigue and watch the Australian GP live from the comfort of my sofa. It feels like "the right thing to do" for some bizarre reason. When I actually attended the Melbourne opener in 2005 I felt slightly unreal. There I was at a GP that I had watched live since childhood and I didn't have the feeling of nausea that accompanies staying up all night.
This year I feel that Ferrari - or more specifically Raikonnen - will walk away with the silver ware yet again. "No shit sherlock" some of you might say, but if the boy Hamilton continues to develop at the same rate as he did last year, then we could have a British champion for the first time since 1996. Here's hopeing.

Friday night T.V.

Any regulars readers of this blog - if there is such a thing - will remember that I had a news black out last year. I basically decided to stop watching news programmes as they made me depressed. Having a 10 week old child actually reduces the amount of television you watch by 90% and therefore results in you becoming less and less familiar with whats going on in the world - therefore I'm much happier these days!

Last Friday night the good lady and myself managed to get our darling little child to sleep by eight o'clock so we sat down together, had a drink, and watched some t.v. (we really know how to have a good time!). After flicking through what seemed like 100 plus channels we settled on a programme that listed the top 20 most annoying people - 15 of whom I had never heard of.

What I found most irritating was the fact that the presenters of the show were themselves extremely annoying. Their pseudo-intellectualism regarding all things celeb was particularly galling. How can you make a career out of reading OK magazine and trawling the gossip columns? The amount of profanity spewed out by these brain dead announcers made me wounder whether the producers of the programme had dragged them off the nearest street corner.

Who watches this drivel apart from two worn out parents trying to stay awake on a Friday night?

Throbbing Toe

My clumsiness appears to have returned with a vengence.

For years I have routinely managed to break most valuable posessions in our home. Whether it be glasses, Vases, Windows, Mugs or plates, I had become an expert in the fine art of breaking them.

I can remember a time when my good lady asked me to hoover the flat but requested that I shoule "be careful of the ornament on the coffee table". At the time this didn't seem like an unreasonable or even diffcult request, but low and behold I managed to break the quiant porcelain display piece without even noticing. It was only after I had finished hoovering and was feeling rather good about myself in a new man sort of way that I saw the carnage around the coffee table. Needless to say - she wasn't very impressed.

But I had thought all that had changed and that I could now get through the day without any sort of calamity.

During the course of my working day last Wednesday, some of the lads were erecting a setion of racking where I can keep all of my essential techy things. Being a helpful sort of chap I thought I would volunteer my services (truth be told I was sick to death of looking at a computer screen and wanted to do something more physical than walking to the coffee machine). All was going well until we came across one particular piece of racking that just didn't want to slot into place. What was needed was a good dose of brute force.

Unfortuanately all this did was dislodge the aforementioned cross beam diretly through my shoe onto my big toe.

After much cussing and frenzied bandaging it was time to retreat to the nearest A&E which happened to be around 15 miles away.

As i write this, some days later, my big toe acts as a throbbing reminder of my clumsiness. With everything else that I have going on at the moment, the last thing I want or need is to be hobbling around like an old war hero!

Depressing reading

Following on from my last post, I decided to find out what type of blogger would find my ramblings interesting.

I happened to come across this nifty little tool which I thought would give me the answers I seek.

As a man who hasn't set foot in a high school for nearly 15 years I find this rather depressing.

I had hoped that my blog's reading level would be a little higher than this as I haven't written it in text speak, I don't possess a hoddie, and I carry neither guns nor knives innit.

What type of blogger are you?

I enjoy flicking through the seemingly never ending selection of blogs. I have noticed that there are several different categories of blog, all of which have their own distinct quirks. I have made a note of some of them.

The everyday blogger. These blogs are great for reading whilst havng a quick cup of coffee. They are usually light on content (like mine) and have an easy going feel to them.

The Everything is marvellous blogger. No matter how hard or horrible life gets, these eternal optimists are the lifeblood of society. these people would say something like, "Today my Hamster died, but I dont feel down because now I can get a new one. YAY!"

The "oh my God, I wish I wasn't born" blogger. There's just no pleasing some people and there's no point in even trying to get them to look on the bright side. I quickly skip these blogs as life is difficult enough without reading about how depressing it is waking up in the morning.

The "If only everyone would listen to me the world would be a better place" blogger. Surely these people have missed their calling in life. They should be working for the Red Cross or the UN. Quick, the world needs you!

The thesaurus Blogger. Some people just love to fit as many weird and wonderful words into their blog as possible. I have real problems reading these posts as my limited vocabularly is no match for the intellectual prowess of the author. I now keep a dictionary close to hand just in case I come across one of these writers!

I'm sure there are many more that I have not yet come across. Feel free to add any that I might have missed in the comments section.

Happy reading!

Nice summery pictures

I'm fed with of the cold, wind, and rain; so here are a pics that I took during my travels around the land of OZ.

Cant remember where this one was taken, but I think I took it when we were camping in the Northern Territory

This one is from the Olga's which are moutains fairly close to Uluru (Ayers rock)

Here is one of Ayers rock. As nice as it looks at sundown, this view is noting compared to the view that you get whilst on the top of the rock at sun set.......

.............As you can see!

Don't you feel warmer now?!

How strange.

Bloody hell, the Sun!

It's been a while but it's bloody good to see you old friend!

Why don't you hang around for a while? You could do a job swap with the rain and give those drought ridden countries a break. Whilst you're here you could dry up all of our flood water and compensate us for your no-show last summer.

speaking of which - what happened to you in 2007? We really did miss you. After your early appearance in April we all thought we were in for a corker of a summer but noooo, you had other ideas. You left us a the mercy of that nasty wet stuff and gave us moaning Brits even more to moan about. As someone of the optimistic persuasion even I found it difficult not to succumb to the odd dreaded grumble.

What other nation on earth goes to such great lengths to bask in your glory? Every year we flock to the Costa Del Sol on our £1 Easy Jet flight just to catch up with you. We've enslaved Mediterranean towns into service, forcing them to serve us paella, washed down with cheap booze and Roy chubby Brown videos.

Sun tan lotion? Never heard of it. We're a nation of die hard sun worshipers and anything that stops us from absorbing your full effect is blasphemy.

Even our favourite newspaper (allegedly) is named after you.

So please please please stick around for a while longer!