Stuff

I take issue with quite a few things, although not to the point of becoming obsessive. Well that's not true; once my knickers in a twist about something, I'm well and truly wedgied by it for the rest of my life.

One thing that I can't reconcile myself with is things on PC keyboards. I'm currently using Trump's computer as she takes a well-earned, post-dinner snooze. This is what I found on her keyboard:

Now, I know I shouldn't really complain - especially since it's not my PC - but why do people rest things on their keyboards in such a way? It just annoys me. It's not so noticeable here, but tomorrow I'll be using a PC at the Moonlighting Drugs Testing Agency and I can guarantee that there will be about three or four pens resting on the keyboard of the PC that I'll be using to do number crunching and stuff. They just get in the way, and if I hit the keys hard enough, the pens and pencils bounce up and roll into the path of my rapidly dancing digits.

Grrrr.

Another "stuff" thing that I have well and truly decided that I dislike is peppers. You know those bell pepper things? More to the point I don't like them: chopped small in things; raw in salads. I had some sushi for lunch and there were two tiny bits of red pepper in one of the fishy roll things. What the fuck for? They added nothing to the flavour, mainly because they fell out due to my poor chopstick control, but nonetheless, they contributed absolutely nothing to my £1.99 lunch. That's £1.99 for something that looked like it had been cobbled together from the contents of the pig bin.

I know where I stand with my minestrone cup a soups and so I really should stick to what I know, even though they do contain far too much in the way of rehydrated red pepper.


Dangling
What is it with those fucktards who hang anything that can be hung from a lanyard around their necks? You see them wandering about town, looking "cool", with a mobile phone, set of keys, MP3 player and shite dangling from a neck band. Nobs. The same is true for work colleagues who hang keys, nail clippers and pens from their ID card chain. I suppose the sound of them jangling along serves a similar purpose to the bells that lepers used to warn of their approach: "Cock alert! Heads down unless you want an hour long conversation with a fuckwit!". They could always try wearing a collar and a bell like my cats have.

Of course, I do use one of these things myself for my work ID card. It looks like this:

Actually, I have two because I work for two places. I am blessed.

Anyway, you see the quick panic release bit that sits at the back of the neck for when your being throttled by an angry member of the public. You see, working with NHS staff members, I can fully understand why members of the public would want to strangle certain NHS employees.

Thanks, it's been really... useful

So where have I been and why haven't I been blogging?

Well firstly, I had a weekend away seeing Her Majesty and all the happy residents of London on Thames. Actually, I only spent one day in London, followed by one in Brighton, followed by a travelling home in torrential rain day. But here are some photos:

When I got back from my jaunt darn sarf, I had to prepare for a job interview. I wasn't successful, which is a shitter, but I wasn't successful because they were looking for somebody "more dynamic and exciting". I didn't realise they were interviewing for a children's party entertainer, or I'd have worn my red nose (no need for the curly wig). I just can't win: I act friendly and well-humoured and I'm not serious enough; I tone myself down and act professionally and I'm not dynamic or exciting. Bastards. I'll give them exciting when I take pot shots at them with an AK47 from the top of a clock tower! Before ending the telephone rejection conversation, the woman said to me "I'm sure our paths will cross again". Yeah, just watch it's not down a dark alley.

So it's back to the drawing board. I need a new job, I'm desperate. I can't think of what I can do.

I knew I should've done the "girl power" v-sign thing at the end of my interview!


Ground control to Major Bomb
Perhaps I should invest in a red nose and do the children's party thing afterall. All being well, and with all things crossed, the Bombino will be with us on the 15th of March. It will be undocking from mothership Bomb via caesarian because it's being an awkward little sod and not turning over. This is despite manipulation at the hands of medics and also some weird Buddhist witchcraft at the hands of Connie.

Initially, Bomb's obstetrician wanted to do the section on the 14th, but she refused to have her baby born on that date because it's a Wednesday - Wednesday's child is full of woe and all that; and she should know, the miserable bastard. Let's face it, there isn't room - or soundproofing - for Bomb and Spawn of Bomb as it is, let alone having both of them being born on the most miserable day of the week.

It's so nice to know that the child's life will be tarnished by the superstitions of her eco-warrior earth mother. She was showing me how to do a nappy the other day; she wants to go for the terry ones that you wash. If I'm looking after it, I'll be using Pampers disposables, thankyouverymuch.

I'm actually looking forward to being an auntie, although I'm holding back on my excitement until I know that they're both safe and well. And when I know the Bombino is safe and well, I will spend as much time as possible corrupting it in the ways of Sniffy (and Trump of course).

Puddings

Apparently, according to a "poll", the UK's favourite regional dish is the Yorkshire Pudding.

Are these people having a laugh? The Yorkshire Pudding is an accompaniment, not a food in its own right, such as runners up the Melton Mowbray pork pie or Cornish pasty. Fuckwits.

But on reading this report, I felt compelled to buy a slice of gala pie for my lunch. It was a toss-up between gala pie and scotch eggs, so I bought both - the latter for the journey to Darn Sarf this evening. I don't know why, but there's something good about pork products and hard boiled eggs. That's nice hard boiled eggs and not those fucking horrible dried-up, green-yoked things that you used to get a buffets in the 1970s.

I don't know what it was about the 1970s, but food was awful. Haute cuisine was prawn cocktail followed by steak and chips at the local Bernie Inn; it still is for some, generally for those sorts of people who allow their children to use pub restaurant furniture as a climbing frame and who don't like food with "too much taste".

It was during the 1970s that I developed by intense dislike of tomatoes on sandwiches and of bananas in my packed lunch. You should never have salad veg on a sandwich unless it's absolutely fresh, and when a sandwich is trapped in a hot plastic lunch box with a banana for four hours, the result is something that is permanently etched in the memory.


Off to London to see the Queen
So we're off to Darn Sarf this evening, with a trip to The People's Republic of London planned for tomorrow. We'll be knocking on the door of Buckingham Palace at about 8.30, so I hope Her Majesty is out of her nightdress and ready for breakfast with her visitors.

I can't believe how much of a parlava some people make of arranging holidays. Fucking shut the fuck up. How can somebody who is on holiday every three weeks have five days to carry over into the next year? Bloody hell.

So anyway, after the Queen, it's off to some museums and things, particularly the Science Museum where we'll be playing with a load of games consoles in an exhibition that's being held there.

Then I'm going to tell Tony Blair what I think of him by projecting an image of my arse onto the Houses of Parliament from one of the pods on the London Eye. With the size of my arse, all I'll need is Maglite, and the curvature of the glass of the pod will do the rest.

I like being a tourist; I just hope the people there are friendly... for a change. Report to follow.


Egypt blogger jailed for insulting islam
That's right folks, a 21 year blogger from Alexandria has been jailed for four years for insulting islam (3 years) and the country's president Mubarak (1 year).

Are these people total fucking nutcases or what?

Islam a loving faith that is open to criticism, my arse. Some of the Christians as just as bad with their views on certain sections of God's flock. Superstitious fruitcakes.

In light of this, and recent losses of freedom of speech in the UK, my planned trip on the London Eye tomorrow has been postponed.

Click on "reply" and spam the bastard

A few months ago, I posted a link to the Prime Minister's e-petition page where there was a petition for people to sign if they wanted the PM to know that they disagreed with the Government's proposals to introduce road charging in the UK. One of the proposals is to introduce a sophisticated tracking system whereby all motorists would have a box fitted in their cars that would enable some computer to calculate how much they drove, where they drove to, how much time they spent in traffic jams, average speeds, etc. Essentially, a spying device that we would have to pay for to penalise us for sitting in traffic jams that are created by Left Wing councils pissing about with roads and traffic light sequences. Their only answer to the congestion their policies contribute to is to remove road space and hammer the motorist.

The petition closed last night and everybody who signed it got an e-mail response from the PM. I just replied to it and I hope everyone else does too. Let's all spam the cunt and tell him what we think.

Then let's have a revolution and charge anybody who voted for Labour at the last election with treason. Idiots.


I know I shouldn't, but HA!
Apparently a couple of clowns have been shot dead in the Big Top during there performance at a circus in Colombia.

Now I know this is tragic, but clowns are so fucking scary and nasty that I can't really feel any sorrow when I hear of one being taken out.

Pancake day!

And we all forgot. So Connie is whipping up her batter for la famiglia Sniffola next week instead. I may be whipping up some batter myself next time I see Trump, but that's a private matter.

Boom boom!

While on the subject, of pancakes, not the other, that decayed and sunburnt woman talked through a breakfast the she provided for her daughter yesterday:

"Miss Peanut requested pancakes and sausage. I pulled pancakes out of the freezer..."

Firstly, pancakes and sausage - fucking wrong almighty. What is it with North Americans and this weird pudding on your breakfast plate business? So odd, so very wrong.

Frozen pancakes? Need I say more.

I'm hoping Bronwen offers some explanation for committing these heinous crimes.


The Shining
I can still smell cigarette smoke. I am now convinced that I have a special gift and that I can sense things going on in the Spirit World.

I'll be the new Derek Acorah, being all dramatic in night-vision in some so-called Most Haunted venue.

The thing I love about Most Haunted is the hysteria generated by the host's jumpiness in the dark: "Oh my God, did you hear/feel/see that?" Within no time, and with accompanying drama from the guest psychic medium, things are flying off shelves, stuff being thrown, and tapping noises emanate from all the dark, scary corners of the old asylum/workhouse/stately home that they're investigating that week.

"I can sense I'm wearing a corset, so that rules out Edward the Seventh"; the mediums come out with this sort of thing all the time as they move dramatically through the premises. "There's a little girl in a uniform, she's crying!". No shit, Sherlock, you're in an old school house.

But despite the programme and accompanying melodrama being laughingly bad, it's such a fantastic show.

Shat Nav

With a trip to the People's Republic of Darn Sarf looming, I thought it best to find out how to get there. Obviously, I'll be needing a special visa and a smart tagging device so that the Darn Sarf special branch will be able to keep tabs on me and make sure that I don't abscond to join the millions of other illegal immigrants there, but I'll also need to get there and so I've just been on the RAC website to use their usually very good and very reliable routeplanner.

Bearing in mind that my journey will involve the M56, M6, M6 Toll (oh yes), M42, M40 and M25 motorways, I was a bit confused when it came out with this:

Does this mean that recent roadworks on the A556 (near Manchester) have actually been the installation of some sort of worm hole that enables travel across the space/time continuum? How good is that? Hope using it doesn't mess my hair up.

I bet the services en route are just as rubbish as those on the normal motorways. With brown-coloured tiling in the toilets. And a 50% uplift on the cost of items in the shops.


Can you smell smoke?
Every now and again I experience a strange phenomenon whereby I can sense cigarette smoke as if somebody is smoking on the street outside my office window. It is very bizarre, but quite worrying? I wonder if it's the smoker in me, luring me out of my abstinence, trying to tempt me back into my old habits.

Fucking annoying, that's what it is.

Perhaps I'm just mental.


Enter the dragon
Yeah right.

I made both myself and Trump endure an hour's waiting in the freezing cold for the so-called Chinese New Year parade in Manchester's China Town yesterday. As we waited, we had to do battle against annoying children who insisted on bumping into us and squashing us against the road-side barriers. But barriers! It must've been some parade they'd organised!

One dragon. This was it:

We got one fucking dragon and something that gave up and turned back before it even reached where we were standing. Where were the buff young men in hotpants and rollerskates? Where was the high-energy disco accompanying all the floats? What about those delish girls in uniform? I guess it's a cultural difference, but my idea of a parade involves a little more than a bunch local school kids waving the Chinese equivalent of a pantomime horse while a bunch of blokes bang drums. They weren't even Chinese!


Wii are most amused
I've been playing with a Wii. I ache like a bastard. Playing the baseball game in Wii Sports, you have the strange feeling that you're up against a number of celebs:

George Michael
Oprah Winfrey
Gillian Anderson
Jeremy Spake

I'm trying to find images of them on the internet, but there are none. I'll see if Trump can get some screenshots posted at hers.

Street tuff

Rather than posting the link, I thought I'd just copy and paste this report from the BBC News website. This, good people, is why people should have to be tested before they are allowed to breed. I thank you.

Shock at women goading toddlers

A jury at Plymouth Magistrates' Court was shown the footage

Footage of four women goading toddlers to fight has "stunned" police and social services in Devon.

The seven-minute footage, filmed at a house by one woman, was shown in a case at Plymouth Magistrates' Court.

In the clip, a boy wearing a nappy was called a "wimp" for not hitting a girl back after she struck him in the face.

Four women admitted child cruelty charges and were released on bail on Wednesday. Det Sgt Andy Kings said the police had been "stunned" by the case.

I didn't see any harm in toughening them up A defendant

"This was a multi-agency operation with the police and social services working together and every professional that has seen this has been shocked and stunned," he said.

"Locally this is something that is new to us, but we are aware that similar incidents have occurred elsewhere in the country and it is something people need to be aware of."

The film was found by social services.

The boy, aged two, is seen crying after being punched in the face by the three-year-old girl and is told by one of the four women in the room "not to be a wimp or a faggot" and to hit her back.

The four women, all from the same family, are heard laughing as the toddlers are urged to keep on fighting.

'Taunted'

When the boy tries to get away and climb into an armchair, the women shout at the girl to punch him again.

She does and the boy is urged to fight back, but says: "No, I don't want to."

The girl leaves the room, and when she comes back the two are taunted and told to fight again.

The court heard that when interviewed by police, one of the women said: "I didn't see any harm in toughening them up. I done the same with my own children."

One of the women pleaded guilty to causing or procuring the children to be ill treated in a manner likely to cause unnecessary suffering of injury.

The other three pleaded guilty to jointly inciting the ill treatment of children.

Sentencing was adjourned until 16 March for reports.