Back from Leeds and stuff

First off, toerag from the other night isn’t parked in the driveway. Her “ex” was and has moved to the street. And there are two other wide-boy, body-kitted, clapped-out pieces of shit there now. Tempted to mention that I’d told the guy she was shagging the other night not to park there and I kind of didn’t expect her other fuck toys to make the same mistake.

Might go down well in front of the knuckle-dragger seeing as he – as far as I can tell – still hasn’t sussed that she’s shagging around behind his back. Could be good for a laugh.

Anyway, Leeds Fest and first of all a public apology. Prior to The Darkness I was stuck near the front and surrounded by many nice people. It was me who farted. Several times. I’m sorry.

My injury tally includes: a nice graze on my left forearm (which was really swollen on Saturday morning) and one on my right knee; two cuts on my left arm; entire upper chest bruised; abdomen sore to the touch but nothing visible yet; both elbows bruised; shoulders aching from carrying two rucksacks; a massive red welt on my right wrist of which I’m particularly proud.

Thanks to everyone in the pits for Green Day, Offspring and lostprophets. The Wildhearts and Ash also rocked, as did several other bands who I just kept an eye out for. Whoever put 50 Cent on Friday with all the other decent bands should be sacked. Get the over-ego’d wanker on the Sunday bill with all the other miscellaneous shite. And he can take The Streets with him.

I now have a few nights’ video to catch up on, some cheap food to eat (which for once I can claim is healthy in comparison to the shit I’ve been chowing on since Thursday) and an Amy to collect at 23:00 as she decided to stay to see Sick Of It All.

Away for a bit

I’m off to Leeds festival for the next couple of days so don’t expect an update before Sunday night at the earliest. In the meantime, some waffle. Are you sitting comfortable? Then I’ll begin…


I am A Shit Brick .

The Shit brick is usually the kinda person that doesn’t like doing much. Turning down a nice romp in the park to his or her favorite television show and a nice big Mac or a box of chicken nuggets. Though shit bricks have their anti social flaws, what they lack in social values they make up for in laziness… But I guess that isn’t a good thing either way.. Ok, shit bricks are just lazy fucks…
What Kinda Shit Are You?

Nice starter. I’m a lazy shit. We all knew that. No surprises. I started doing situps again over the last couple of days as I’m sick of looking pregnant. Only my stomach doesn’t like it. I’m having some kind of abdominal revolt. I think I’ll stand up *OUCH* no I fucking won’t.

I am currently back home and was greeted by a car parked in my driveway. Again. Bastards. It wasn’t wanker-boy’s but another hot-hatch. Think its one of the slapper’s “friend”‘s. Anyway, I just blocked the tosser in. After about 45 mins – nigh on 1:00am – there was a knock on the door. Very, very quiet. I’d been earwigging and heard her tell him to “have words with me” about it. Oh, I was looking forward to this…

Opened the door and she was stood there. The little chickenshit didn’t even have the balls to ask me to move my car. Hell, he didn’t even look at me once.

“Can you move your car please?” *bats eyelashes* (she is kinda cute in a scuffery kind of way)

“Can you not park there again…. PLEASE” (note the lack of question mark. I made it obvious the “please” was purely there for sarcastic reasons)

She repeated my desires to the little toerag and he was off like a shot once I had my car out of the way. Next time, I ain’t moving. He’s been warned. And she can pass it on to the other backward-cap-wearing street urchins she’s fucking. Next one’s getting a taxi home, cos my car ain’t shifting till I’m ready to move it.

What else? Well, done the work up in Aberdeen. Watched another shit game of football on the way down. Had 80 emails (50 spam) when I got home. Have to be up by 9:00 at the latest to sort my shit out and go pick people up. And I’ve not even looked at my regular cartoons or mates’ blogs yet! Or the video I’ve taped while I’m away. Argh.

Hey ho. Well, catch you all sometime in the future. Have a good weekend whatever you’re doing!

Radcliffe, Yanks and noisy neighbours no more!

Can’t stay on long as I’m on a hotel dialup. A little expensive, but a few things to add. In case he reads this, thanks to Adam and Lorraine for the bed last night. Your company and crash space much appreciated! Oh, and that cat that wanders in once in a while is so cute!

Now, Paula Radcliffe. Poor lass. It’s obvious how upset she is, but she’s a damn good athlete. She’ll be back and I’m pretty damn sure she’ll get a hell of a welcome back to the country. Shit happens to the best of us and she’s proven in the past she’s among the best by a long margin.

As I mentioned, I’m in a hotel – the Craighaar in Aberdeen. It’s quite a nice place and I had quite a nice meal tonight. I was sorting out car times with the people I’m working with after dinner, and there was a rather large American behind us chatting (loudly, as they usually do) on the public telephone. Partway through our conversation he just let rip with the loudest, ripest, juiciest fart you ever heard. It made the wallpaper slide off the walls. Abso-fucking-lutely disgusting. And he just acted like he’d not done anything. Well done, sir. A fine example of your nation’s touring class.

Finally, it seems that all good things must come to an end. I got a text message from my housemate earlier. The noisy neighbours apparently had a doozy of a fight last night, and this morning the house is up for sale. I’ll miss the screams of sexual ecstasy, the yells of not-quite-marital disagreement and the tons of fucking cars blocking my driveway. Actually, not the last bit. I’ll certainly miss the entertainment, but it’ll be nice not to have to get some selfish bastard to shift their car so I can access my own fucking house.

Got to go – coursework to do!

Old work story

I know a few of you won’t have heard this story before and I was reminded of it
today, so… Don’t worry, it’s not that technical and geeky!

I used to work for a company in Leeds which did hardware and software installs.
One of our consultants – let’s call him Andy, as that’s his name – was part of
a 2-man “squad” doing some work in various garages up and down the country. The
job spec from the customer was to do some work on the NT server, and to upgrade
a chip in the satellite communication gear.

We knew nothing about the satellite kit apart from what we were shown. Open
box, pop old chip out, slip new one in, close box.

Now, on one site, Andy decided to go above and beyond the call of duty. This
was not unusual – he really was a superb engineer. Very smart, very hard-
working and never left a job any less than 100% complete. After he’d finished
with the server work, he opened the satellite box up. As it was located in the
actual garage workshop, ihe found it to be full of rubbish. Dust bunnies
galore, small bits of swarf… general much and nastiness.

Being his usual helpful self, he decided a quick clean wasn’t out of order. He
approached one of the mechanics and asked if they had a can of compressed air
he could use to blast the dust out.

“Best we have is the air hose we use for tyres and stuff,” says the
mechanic,”Over there, on the wall.”

Superb. So Andy goes up and gets the hose. It reaches to the desk he’s working
on, so he sets it at the right angle and pulls the trigger.

About 5 litres of multigrade oil sprayed out of the nozzle and onto the circuit
board. Wrong hose.

Now I don’t know about you, but I personally would have dropped the hose and
run ashen-faced to the car, expecting a P45 in the post the next morning. Not
Andy. Nobody had noticed. He hung up the hose, and popped the top on the box.
Spotting the manageress, he asked if she had any tissue or anything he could
use to clean up a bit of mess.

She directed him to the cleaner’s cupboard and told him to help himself to
toilet roll. He grabbed one of those huge (one foot diameter) rolls and headed
back to the workshop. Within 15 minutes he had the entire box stripped and in
bits spread over several sheets of loo roll. Each of the parts was scrubbed and
laid carefully in place.

After about half an hour, the manageress walked past. “Ooh, you’re right. It
was a bit mucky, wasn’t it?” And walked off.

The whole lot was carefully plugged back together again and by some miracle
still worked. Nobody at the garage had a clue as to what had just happened.

A day at the office

Hell’s bollocks, I’m bored. Once again sat in an office with nothing to do except coursework… which I can’t do because I’m sat in the office. I have today discovered that we’re now going cheap on toilet paper. Gone is the comfy Charmin Ultra. In its place is some evil stuff with a pattern on it similar to a nailfile and which has much the same effect when used to clean your arse.

We have been having fun with Gosia, however. She’s one of the Polish programmers who is leaving at the end of the week. Over the last couple of weeks we’ve taught her to appreciate the good, old-fashioned English double-entendre. Purely for educational purposes, of course. She actually got the joke when I held out some peanuts and asked if she’d like to nibble on something salty. She cupped her hand and allowed me to gently place my nuts in her palm.

I noticed on the packet that “small children can choke on nuts”. I find this hard to believe. I’d have expected them to start gagging on the end of my cock before my nuts were even in their mouth.

I fully expect hate-mail for that one.

Today I wrote a fairly lengthy letter to Middlesbrough football club asking about their decision to reduce our ticket allocation. If I get a response, I’ll post it up here for all to see. Office hours well spent, as you can tell.

Horoscope for the day – Aries. You will wake up, do something and go back to bed. During your waking hours, you may or may not communicate with another person. Beware sharp implements and vehicles travelling at speed along pavements. Your lucky underwear fetish is “used schoolgirl’s panties” and your unlucky adjective is “docile”.