It was me wot won it.....
You see , it was my football martyrdom that made that happen last night. I didn't wear a Chelsea shirt, I didn't peek at the Internet, I didn't listen to the radio or watch the TV. I posted to this, and then studied. This alone was the sole cause of the victory last night. It had nothing to do with tactics, team selection, skill, team unity, professionalism or luck. It was because I suffered my own self inflicted solitary confinement for the greater good of Chelsea fans all over. Only true football (and sports) fans know what I am talking about.
At 21:35, I received a phone call from my brother in law.
I didn't answer it, after all I had yet to discover whether my solitary confinement had created the right result.
Shit - I had forgotten the answerphone.... I ran the length of the room to try and press the button to disconnect the call. Too late.....all I heard was SmallSykes yelling and shouting incomprehensible expletives into my answerphone. Then I heard those immortal words "At fucking last we done 'em", followed by a chorus of our signature chant at Chelsea
Carefree, wherever we may be
We are the famous CFC
And we don't give a fuck
Wherever we may be
Coz we are the famous CFC.
It's sung to the tune of Lord of the Dance. There must be some irony in there somewhere. Almost as good as my favourite poem that one. One of my favourite Chelsea chants, purely because of it's simplicity and the clarity of its message is
We hate Arsenal
And we hate Arsenal
We hate Arsenal
and we hate Arsenal
We hate Arsenal and we hate Arsenal
We are the Arsenal haters
Absolute fucking genius whoever came up with that lyrical prose. Anyway, I had expected to lose and had planned to prove today that this showed conclusively that God is also The Devil, but it seems that God may also be a Chelsea fan and was merely saving the best until last. Perhaps I'll save that theory for another day.
Back in the office today, so I'll be people watching for the rest of the day. Just to see if the lunacy of this organization is continuing along its unswervingly demotivating and demoralising path. We have a Team Meeting today. At this moment it feels like I'm waiting to sit in a room full of arselickers and at least one or two Corporate cock suckers. Still, it keeps the imagination flowing.
M is chairing the meeting, so we can expect it to start 5 minutes late whilst he loudly finishes off a mobile conversation with someone very "self) important. Undoubtedly he will believe that we will be very impressed by this. No doubt the others, who have always worked for him will also be thinking this, but I'm sure that amongst this lumpy, humourless crew there is at least one or two fellow subversives. They just don't know it yet, but I will be their liberator! As I get to know some more of this motley crew they will be added to the cast, and in the next month or so we will be co-located, so I will be coerced into getting to know them better. And so will you!
Later, Grocerjack
Wednesday, 7 April 2004
Tuesday, 6 April 2004
Told you I wouldn't be watching.....
See...I told you I wouldn't be watching the match. It has started, and so for the next 90 minutes I am a prisoner - no TV , no radio and no sneaky peaking on the web! I can't do any more than that to help them. I have even got a little prayer
Oh Great Lord (er....yeah I know its when it suits me mate, but you are supposed to be all forgiving, how about being non-judgemental as well!).....
Oh Great Lord
Make it swift
Make it painless
If the Arse are to win make it by 1 goal
No humiliations please
Make it over 90 minutes
No extra time
No penalty shoot outs
If this happens, then I will know this prayer was intercepted by The Devil
Or that you are The Devil
Blimey, straight plagiarism of the style of the great EJ Thribb, resident poet of Private Eye. The only poet I ever really liked in fact. To my mind the best poetry is usually song lyrics, although to those who study poetry properly, and know all about iambic pentameters etc, song lyrics are just above limerick status. I did study this stiuff as part of my foundation course in the Humanities, but despite my best efforts , and although I can understand the structures and meanings, I still can't rave over poetry thats not music based. That probably makes me a heathen to some academic minds, but it doesn't make me a hypocrite. So my favourite poem....
All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel.
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save.
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy,
beg, borrow or steal.
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say.
All that you eat
And everyone you meet
All that you slight
And everyone you fight.
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon
Courtesy of a certain Roger Waters from my all time favourite band Pink Floyd. The music is great, I always dissed them because I laboured under the illusion that they were heavy metal (although now I like a lot of the "metal" stuff). I was 16 when I first heard the album "Dark Side of the Moon" and this song Eclipse, is the denouement of the album. I can honestly say that it's as fresh to me today as it was 26 years ago (fuck me, was it that long?). At 15 I thought it was the single most profound thing I had ever heard, and I include all the Catholic propaganda shoved down my thoat from cradle to my independence age of 14. In fact it was miles away from that. Previous to hearing this I had been a David Bowie freak, but then this stuff came along and blew me away. I had mates who didn't get me, who lived and breathed the singles charts and the prevailing fashions. I was different , I did both - singles and albums. I was the archetypal bloke who saved his money and bought an album. A 12" inch piece of vinyl, with proper covers, with artwork decor on the cover that was almost as integral to the album as the music. I was prepared to listen to other stuff. It kind of felt unique, being able to enjoy Floyd, then Zep, and punk, and glam, and disco, and New Wave,and New Romantics etc etc . At a time, not dissimilar to today, when life was about labelling and pigeonholing people, I was rather proud of my ability to cross musical genres and not feel hypocritical. I may publish my second favourite poem another day, by a certain David Bowie, but I am going to dash now and put the hi-fi on, brush off Wish You Were Here, on vinyl and play it as loud as possible because I have the house to myself. Grab these loud peaceful musical moments when you can. When you have kids they are rare indeed.
Later, Grocerjack
See...I told you I wouldn't be watching the match. It has started, and so for the next 90 minutes I am a prisoner - no TV , no radio and no sneaky peaking on the web! I can't do any more than that to help them. I have even got a little prayer
Oh Great Lord (er....yeah I know its when it suits me mate, but you are supposed to be all forgiving, how about being non-judgemental as well!).....
Oh Great Lord
Make it swift
Make it painless
If the Arse are to win make it by 1 goal
No humiliations please
Make it over 90 minutes
No extra time
No penalty shoot outs
If this happens, then I will know this prayer was intercepted by The Devil
Or that you are The Devil
Blimey, straight plagiarism of the style of the great EJ Thribb, resident poet of Private Eye. The only poet I ever really liked in fact. To my mind the best poetry is usually song lyrics, although to those who study poetry properly, and know all about iambic pentameters etc, song lyrics are just above limerick status. I did study this stiuff as part of my foundation course in the Humanities, but despite my best efforts , and although I can understand the structures and meanings, I still can't rave over poetry thats not music based. That probably makes me a heathen to some academic minds, but it doesn't make me a hypocrite. So my favourite poem....
All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel.
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save.
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy,
beg, borrow or steal.
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say.
All that you eat
And everyone you meet
All that you slight
And everyone you fight.
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon
Courtesy of a certain Roger Waters from my all time favourite band Pink Floyd. The music is great, I always dissed them because I laboured under the illusion that they were heavy metal (although now I like a lot of the "metal" stuff). I was 16 when I first heard the album "Dark Side of the Moon" and this song Eclipse, is the denouement of the album. I can honestly say that it's as fresh to me today as it was 26 years ago (fuck me, was it that long?). At 15 I thought it was the single most profound thing I had ever heard, and I include all the Catholic propaganda shoved down my thoat from cradle to my independence age of 14. In fact it was miles away from that. Previous to hearing this I had been a David Bowie freak, but then this stuff came along and blew me away. I had mates who didn't get me, who lived and breathed the singles charts and the prevailing fashions. I was different , I did both - singles and albums. I was the archetypal bloke who saved his money and bought an album. A 12" inch piece of vinyl, with proper covers, with artwork decor on the cover that was almost as integral to the album as the music. I was prepared to listen to other stuff. It kind of felt unique, being able to enjoy Floyd, then Zep, and punk, and glam, and disco, and New Wave,and New Romantics etc etc . At a time, not dissimilar to today, when life was about labelling and pigeonholing people, I was rather proud of my ability to cross musical genres and not feel hypocritical. I may publish my second favourite poem another day, by a certain David Bowie, but I am going to dash now and put the hi-fi on, brush off Wish You Were Here, on vinyl and play it as loud as possible because I have the house to myself. Grab these loud peaceful musical moments when you can. When you have kids they are rare indeed.
Later, Grocerjack
Teenager........where are you?
She may be the bane of my life, but after 4 days of being apart I'm missing my duels with Teenager. Don't tell her that though!
Well, back to work, albeit from home today. It is something I can't excited about anymore. It would appear that I am missing the stress and daily arse kickings of me previous role. My option now is to use this boredom to concentrate more on the degree, although the latest book on animal rights is as dull as ditchwater now. It just seems to be one long tirade on how to read stuff and then write it. My plan for this assignment is to "skim read" the text, read the question and concentrate on the sections relating purely to that. From what I gather this is how most students work anyway! Being told how to read and write is like teaching your Grandmother to suck eggs (if anyone knows what this statement means or how it was derived then let me know!).
Tonight is the big one. After the stress free weekend, watching us beat Spurs (again) and England wipe the cricketing floor with the West Indies, tonight is Chelsea versus Arsenal.
At Arsenal.
Needless to say, I will not be watching, listening or wearing any Chelsea related shirts or clothing. I am thinking of betting on Arsenal to win, which should put the kiss of death on any of their ambitions tonight. Actually after their defeat at the hands of Manchester United on Saturday, I have a feeling we might just cop the backlash. Still expect the worst and you never know what might happen. Good Luck Chelsea.
Still no sore throat. Fingers still crossed......
More later perhaps, Grocerjack
She may be the bane of my life, but after 4 days of being apart I'm missing my duels with Teenager. Don't tell her that though!
Well, back to work, albeit from home today. It is something I can't excited about anymore. It would appear that I am missing the stress and daily arse kickings of me previous role. My option now is to use this boredom to concentrate more on the degree, although the latest book on animal rights is as dull as ditchwater now. It just seems to be one long tirade on how to read stuff and then write it. My plan for this assignment is to "skim read" the text, read the question and concentrate on the sections relating purely to that. From what I gather this is how most students work anyway! Being told how to read and write is like teaching your Grandmother to suck eggs (if anyone knows what this statement means or how it was derived then let me know!).
Tonight is the big one. After the stress free weekend, watching us beat Spurs (again) and England wipe the cricketing floor with the West Indies, tonight is Chelsea versus Arsenal.
At Arsenal.
Needless to say, I will not be watching, listening or wearing any Chelsea related shirts or clothing. I am thinking of betting on Arsenal to win, which should put the kiss of death on any of their ambitions tonight. Actually after their defeat at the hands of Manchester United on Saturday, I have a feeling we might just cop the backlash. Still expect the worst and you never know what might happen. Good Luck Chelsea.
Still no sore throat. Fingers still crossed......
More later perhaps, Grocerjack
Monday, 5 April 2004
Jack is Back......
What a weekend. Where do I start?
I don't want to tempt fate, but my sore throat appears to have gone :-) My theory is split into 2 camps as to why. One is that when you are running at 100% all the time, you don't have time to get ill. When that stops, you relax and then you get ill. Your body is off guard and you suddenly have time to get ill. That's why so many people get sore throats and colds when on holiday. My previous job was very high pressure, and this new one patently isn't (see postings passim!) so my levels have fallen, and thats where the throat became infected.This may not be medically sound, so if you know then please put a comment in. My other theory is that this is the longest period I haven't been in the office for for months, well since Christmas anyway. Perhaps my office is a "sick building". I'll find out in the next week or so I suppose.
Well, down to the weekend then. Where shall I start?
Bob6 has a friend, he bought him along for the weekend.
I didn't like his friend. Neither did The King.
We called him CounterMan.
The game of golf is a gentlemans/womans game. It is steeped in etiquette, some silly, some necessary. When you play golf with friends you tend to have a laugh, maybe a little side bet. What you don't do is count all the other players shots. This is what CounterMan did. On every game he counted all, including Bob6's, of our shots, which means he can't be focussing too much on his own game. My view is that when someone "questions" your score, this is a deflectionary tactic, because I never question anyones score. I never retort with "are you sure you got 5 there". The only person they are cheating on is themselves. So, I play my game, I concentrate on my scores. This bloke questioned both me and The King several times, plus he accused us both at certain times of producing balls from our pockets instead of declaring one lost. Again, this is just downright rude in my view. We weren't in anything other than a friendly competition, with me trying to put some scorecards together for my handicap records. He also accused us of "banditry", whereby we were playing off handicaps that weren't right. Both The King and me are genuinely certificated, mine from February this year and The Kings from early March.
This is how not to make friends in the golf world.
The King: Hello CounterMan, how did you do?
CounterMan: oooh, a 95 or 96..I think, what did you get then King?
The King: 96
CounterMan: oh...yeah I got 95.
Repeat the conversation but replace The King with me, and the scores from to 90 and 91. Do this over every round. Now you get the picture!
If Counterman was capable of holding any sort of interesting conversation, or stringing together any intelligent sentences, in fact adding anything to the group dynamic it might have changed my opinion. But he didn't. He is an empty vessel.
Bob6 had a complete nightmare and veered from club throwing, to swearing tantrums of the best quality. I felt for him, because we all go there at some time during golf. To go away for a weekend and play 6 rounds of golf, with only the last one bearing any resemblance to something good is a complete pisser for the individual. Bob8 might be a better name from now on, because he carded more 8's than I have ever seen anyone play over 4 days. But Bob6 did add to the conversation and he was genuinely warm in his praise of us. He did his turn at the bar and although he still has the behavioural protocols issue, it was much better than last year. He also provided us with the comedy moment of the weekend. He hit one shot and we watched as he looked down to us, but the ball was nowhere to be seen, then he looked to each side of where he was, again nothing. Then he looked behind him in case he had topped it so bad that the ball had spun back. Nothing. We were laughing by now, as was he. The kind of laughing that makes your legs go weak. He then noticed a 6 inch hole wehere the ball had been. Yep, he had single handedly tried to drill this ball through to Australia. The King and I (?) were about 150 yards from him, laughing violently by now. Bob6 drove the buggy to us, and showed this now black object, clasped inside his mud caked hand. We were crying by this time.
It took us 5 minutes before any of us could play another shot without breaking into gales of laughter. He took this well, he is after all my friend.
CounterMan thought this was out of order. Even Bob6 had to straighten him out on that one.
The weather was just as I described. Windy, cold and rainy. Thanks Devon! On Saturday, in the space of 2 holes we went from cold, wind burnt by the fiercesome gales blown into our faces, to completely and utterly soaked through to the skin. My glove was like a sponge. Even the single malts in the hip flasks couldn't help us on this one. We gave up with 2 holes left to play and went to the bar - and a good drinking session then took the sting out of the shortened round of golf. Overall though it was a good place, with good food, free golf, 4 pints at the bar for £9.00, all for £140, not bad at all. No Guinness though! I thought it might be a disaster, but they had a substitute drink instead. Beamish. It's not quite the top stuff like Guinness, but it's close enough. I drank quite a bit of it to ensure that it had my full quality approval. It's the best way innit!
So Counterman aside, it was an enjoyable and incredibly stress free weekend. I feel recharged. In a month I go to Spain with The King and The Major, plus The Worrier (a friend of The King), for a weeks golf, hopefully wind and rain free. That is the BIG one, where I want to peak. It's going to be a long 4 weeks!
DC, Teenager and Baby are having a great time in Spain. Its very warm and very sunny. My turn will come :-)
Nice to be back, GrocerJack
What a weekend. Where do I start?
I don't want to tempt fate, but my sore throat appears to have gone :-) My theory is split into 2 camps as to why. One is that when you are running at 100% all the time, you don't have time to get ill. When that stops, you relax and then you get ill. Your body is off guard and you suddenly have time to get ill. That's why so many people get sore throats and colds when on holiday. My previous job was very high pressure, and this new one patently isn't (see postings passim!) so my levels have fallen, and thats where the throat became infected.This may not be medically sound, so if you know then please put a comment in. My other theory is that this is the longest period I haven't been in the office for for months, well since Christmas anyway. Perhaps my office is a "sick building". I'll find out in the next week or so I suppose.
Well, down to the weekend then. Where shall I start?
Bob6 has a friend, he bought him along for the weekend.
I didn't like his friend. Neither did The King.
We called him CounterMan.
The game of golf is a gentlemans/womans game. It is steeped in etiquette, some silly, some necessary. When you play golf with friends you tend to have a laugh, maybe a little side bet. What you don't do is count all the other players shots. This is what CounterMan did. On every game he counted all, including Bob6's, of our shots, which means he can't be focussing too much on his own game. My view is that when someone "questions" your score, this is a deflectionary tactic, because I never question anyones score. I never retort with "are you sure you got 5 there". The only person they are cheating on is themselves. So, I play my game, I concentrate on my scores. This bloke questioned both me and The King several times, plus he accused us both at certain times of producing balls from our pockets instead of declaring one lost. Again, this is just downright rude in my view. We weren't in anything other than a friendly competition, with me trying to put some scorecards together for my handicap records. He also accused us of "banditry", whereby we were playing off handicaps that weren't right. Both The King and me are genuinely certificated, mine from February this year and The Kings from early March.
This is how not to make friends in the golf world.
The King: Hello CounterMan, how did you do?
CounterMan: oooh, a 95 or 96..I think, what did you get then King?
The King: 96
CounterMan: oh...yeah I got 95.
Repeat the conversation but replace The King with me, and the scores from to 90 and 91. Do this over every round. Now you get the picture!
If Counterman was capable of holding any sort of interesting conversation, or stringing together any intelligent sentences, in fact adding anything to the group dynamic it might have changed my opinion. But he didn't. He is an empty vessel.
Bob6 had a complete nightmare and veered from club throwing, to swearing tantrums of the best quality. I felt for him, because we all go there at some time during golf. To go away for a weekend and play 6 rounds of golf, with only the last one bearing any resemblance to something good is a complete pisser for the individual. Bob8 might be a better name from now on, because he carded more 8's than I have ever seen anyone play over 4 days. But Bob6 did add to the conversation and he was genuinely warm in his praise of us. He did his turn at the bar and although he still has the behavioural protocols issue, it was much better than last year. He also provided us with the comedy moment of the weekend. He hit one shot and we watched as he looked down to us, but the ball was nowhere to be seen, then he looked to each side of where he was, again nothing. Then he looked behind him in case he had topped it so bad that the ball had spun back. Nothing. We were laughing by now, as was he. The kind of laughing that makes your legs go weak. He then noticed a 6 inch hole wehere the ball had been. Yep, he had single handedly tried to drill this ball through to Australia. The King and I (?) were about 150 yards from him, laughing violently by now. Bob6 drove the buggy to us, and showed this now black object, clasped inside his mud caked hand. We were crying by this time.
It took us 5 minutes before any of us could play another shot without breaking into gales of laughter. He took this well, he is after all my friend.
CounterMan thought this was out of order. Even Bob6 had to straighten him out on that one.
The weather was just as I described. Windy, cold and rainy. Thanks Devon! On Saturday, in the space of 2 holes we went from cold, wind burnt by the fiercesome gales blown into our faces, to completely and utterly soaked through to the skin. My glove was like a sponge. Even the single malts in the hip flasks couldn't help us on this one. We gave up with 2 holes left to play and went to the bar - and a good drinking session then took the sting out of the shortened round of golf. Overall though it was a good place, with good food, free golf, 4 pints at the bar for £9.00, all for £140, not bad at all. No Guinness though! I thought it might be a disaster, but they had a substitute drink instead. Beamish. It's not quite the top stuff like Guinness, but it's close enough. I drank quite a bit of it to ensure that it had my full quality approval. It's the best way innit!
So Counterman aside, it was an enjoyable and incredibly stress free weekend. I feel recharged. In a month I go to Spain with The King and The Major, plus The Worrier (a friend of The King), for a weeks golf, hopefully wind and rain free. That is the BIG one, where I want to peak. It's going to be a long 4 weeks!
DC, Teenager and Baby are having a great time in Spain. Its very warm and very sunny. My turn will come :-)
Nice to be back, GrocerJack
Thursday, 1 April 2004
Thats me for a while.....
On my weekend now. Found a PC with Internet access, so time for a quick post. My mobile is off, my Blackberry is off and at home, my laptop is off and in my desk at work. I am technology free, to a degree. But it's like smoking, you think you can do without it, but I couldn't resist a last blog post before the serious (drinking, golf, letching, sleeping) stuff starts. The only technology I'll be dealing with is of the beer pump (Guinness), red wine glass, titanium head, graphite shaft, high distance/low spin ball and "how does this sauna work" type. It's a lovely feeling, I hope it's pissed a few of you off (in a nice way).
I just read Croxy's latest post with a comment from Rightgirl". I'm torn a bit here, because as a confirmed "champagne" socialist New Labour, without the nannying stuff type of person , I do think we should offer a haven to genuine political refugees, as long as other countries in and out of Europe share that burden equally. I do also think we should not give them equivalent benefits to our indigenous people (irrespective of colour) and that the use of camps is justified, provided they are decent, clean and habitable, and are NOT used as prisons. Although there's a good few of "our own" that should be stopped benefits as well, (I mean those that won't as opposed to those who can't). The good intentions of the bleeding hearts are shrouded in misguided ideas of helping others. What we are doing though is encouraging more to come to this country. I agree that the black and Asian communities in this country have added huge benefits to us, in culture, sport and politics. But we are a small overcrowded island and there has to be a limit to how many we can absorb before we end up with clashes of culture which lead to riots and possibly more terrorism.
A big subject for a blog post, I agree, and one that is always open to misinterpretation because I can't dedicate the time to fully explaining the premises of my arguments, and the conclusions. (blimey..Philosophy at work). I am NOT racist or nationalist (in fact I am close to being a republican), but I do care about my society and the one my kids will grow up and live in and that's why this debate needs to be out in the open, especially in light of what is being discovered about this governments policies today. Oh yeah, the minister quit, but the Head of the Civil Service Union was straight on the radio, defending his "members", who were just doing what they were told. And they have no spine? No balls? It smacked of "Ve Vas only following orders!"
On a happier note, Teenager sent me a text tonight, very loving with kisses at the end. I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she hasn't done something wrong and is trying to atone for the attitude problem this morning. How very forgiving of me....even I admit that sounds a bit...overly cynical. That's it for a few days, check back on Monday or Tuesday to find out how successful Bob6 was, how crap I was, how DC's trip to Espana was. Have a good one, whoever you are.....
Later, Grocerjack.
On my weekend now. Found a PC with Internet access, so time for a quick post. My mobile is off, my Blackberry is off and at home, my laptop is off and in my desk at work. I am technology free, to a degree. But it's like smoking, you think you can do without it, but I couldn't resist a last blog post before the serious (drinking, golf, letching, sleeping) stuff starts. The only technology I'll be dealing with is of the beer pump (Guinness), red wine glass, titanium head, graphite shaft, high distance/low spin ball and "how does this sauna work" type. It's a lovely feeling, I hope it's pissed a few of you off (in a nice way).
I just read Croxy's latest post with a comment from Rightgirl". I'm torn a bit here, because as a confirmed "champagne" socialist New Labour, without the nannying stuff type of person , I do think we should offer a haven to genuine political refugees, as long as other countries in and out of Europe share that burden equally. I do also think we should not give them equivalent benefits to our indigenous people (irrespective of colour) and that the use of camps is justified, provided they are decent, clean and habitable, and are NOT used as prisons. Although there's a good few of "our own" that should be stopped benefits as well, (I mean those that won't as opposed to those who can't). The good intentions of the bleeding hearts are shrouded in misguided ideas of helping others. What we are doing though is encouraging more to come to this country. I agree that the black and Asian communities in this country have added huge benefits to us, in culture, sport and politics. But we are a small overcrowded island and there has to be a limit to how many we can absorb before we end up with clashes of culture which lead to riots and possibly more terrorism.
A big subject for a blog post, I agree, and one that is always open to misinterpretation because I can't dedicate the time to fully explaining the premises of my arguments, and the conclusions. (blimey..Philosophy at work). I am NOT racist or nationalist (in fact I am close to being a republican), but I do care about my society and the one my kids will grow up and live in and that's why this debate needs to be out in the open, especially in light of what is being discovered about this governments policies today. Oh yeah, the minister quit, but the Head of the Civil Service Union was straight on the radio, defending his "members", who were just doing what they were told. And they have no spine? No balls? It smacked of "Ve Vas only following orders!"
On a happier note, Teenager sent me a text tonight, very loving with kisses at the end. I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she hasn't done something wrong and is trying to atone for the attitude problem this morning. How very forgiving of me....even I admit that sounds a bit...overly cynical. That's it for a few days, check back on Monday or Tuesday to find out how successful Bob6 was, how crap I was, how DC's trip to Espana was. Have a good one, whoever you are.....
Later, Grocerjack.
Jeans are bad?
What a stir I have caused! Today I could not be arsed to dress up as normal for work, so I am wearing jeans. The weird thing is I have had comments from people wearing ...jeans. Hello Mr Pot, my names Mr Kettle! Perhaps people expect more of me, or perhaps I am that predictable that when I rebel for 1 day, it is noticed. Perhaps this is the only way anyone notices me these days at work. Anyway, I felt a bit rebellious today and this is my sad way of proving it.
Teenager and I fell out this morning. DC was off to work early, so I did the kid run. Teenager never spoke when waking up, and then failed to say any more than 2 words until we got in the car. Then she stopped speaking at all. I made a comment on a passing car, which was a jazzy new Mini in extremely bright red. It looked very chic but I recieved no reply or acknowledgement. Because Teenager ignored me, I repeated the comment......again silence. One more time I thought........nothing.
SMACK - right across the thigh. I can take lip, attitude or grumbling, but ignorance is too much for me. She protested, but I am afraid I took the opportunity to follow this smack, with a whole bunch of verbal rhetoric. She didn't cry, but was patently about to. I haven't done that to her for ages and I think the shock hurt more than the smack, which wasn't really hard. Judge if you want, but you won't find me backing anti-smacking laws. These are supported by exceptionally lucky people whose kids never played up, or by childless ones.
She got out of the car and flounced off in the best Teenager tradition.
I gave it 5 minutes, then rang her and apologised. I'd been awake for an hour and already I have capitulated.
In a grudging manner she also apologised to me, complaining that she was tired. Wonder what she'll say when I turn her TV off at 10 tonight.
I may post tonight if I get the chance, but if not then wish me a good weekend with Bob6 - I'll be watching his score, and The King will be my witness! Last thought, apparently now Traffic Wardens will be able to issue arbitrary fines for poor driving, such things as bad parking, U-turns in road junctions, stopping in box junctions and other minor offences. Follow this link for the full story. I wouldn't want to be a Traffic Warden issuing me with a fine for such trivial offences. What next, fines for schoolkids playing ball in fields that have barred ball games. Fines for people who accidentally mount their wheels on the kerb whilst parking. Prison for people who drop litter. Lets have some fucking perspective for once.This poxy country is already overladen with legislation and fines for pathetic offecnce, with prisons containing people who haven't paid ...errr fines, or their TV Licence. When will the people of this country get the bollocks to mount campaigns of civil disobedience, like the French do, to stop being trodden on like doormats by this overpowering, bad breath suffering, legislation mad government? In France, the government does things like this, the French either strike, or they ignore it. If we had 10% of their free spirit, then perhaps we could class ourselves as free society. As it is, we just lamely accept everyting that comes our way and I for one, am sick of a society that penalises ordinary people for trivial offences and coppers nick people for speeding on Motorways, yet old people get mugged, children get bullied, murders and rapes are rising, gun crime is increasing and drug use is on the increase (don't even start me on drugs policy......read High Society by Ben Elton, then you'll find my views). Just think how much serious crime could be cut if we diverted the police resources to that instead of sitting on roadsides for hours on end!
Later GrocerJack
What a stir I have caused! Today I could not be arsed to dress up as normal for work, so I am wearing jeans. The weird thing is I have had comments from people wearing ...jeans. Hello Mr Pot, my names Mr Kettle! Perhaps people expect more of me, or perhaps I am that predictable that when I rebel for 1 day, it is noticed. Perhaps this is the only way anyone notices me these days at work. Anyway, I felt a bit rebellious today and this is my sad way of proving it.
Teenager and I fell out this morning. DC was off to work early, so I did the kid run. Teenager never spoke when waking up, and then failed to say any more than 2 words until we got in the car. Then she stopped speaking at all. I made a comment on a passing car, which was a jazzy new Mini in extremely bright red. It looked very chic but I recieved no reply or acknowledgement. Because Teenager ignored me, I repeated the comment......again silence. One more time I thought........nothing.
SMACK - right across the thigh. I can take lip, attitude or grumbling, but ignorance is too much for me. She protested, but I am afraid I took the opportunity to follow this smack, with a whole bunch of verbal rhetoric. She didn't cry, but was patently about to. I haven't done that to her for ages and I think the shock hurt more than the smack, which wasn't really hard. Judge if you want, but you won't find me backing anti-smacking laws. These are supported by exceptionally lucky people whose kids never played up, or by childless ones.
She got out of the car and flounced off in the best Teenager tradition.
I gave it 5 minutes, then rang her and apologised. I'd been awake for an hour and already I have capitulated.
In a grudging manner she also apologised to me, complaining that she was tired. Wonder what she'll say when I turn her TV off at 10 tonight.
I may post tonight if I get the chance, but if not then wish me a good weekend with Bob6 - I'll be watching his score, and The King will be my witness! Last thought, apparently now Traffic Wardens will be able to issue arbitrary fines for poor driving, such things as bad parking, U-turns in road junctions, stopping in box junctions and other minor offences. Follow this link for the full story. I wouldn't want to be a Traffic Warden issuing me with a fine for such trivial offences. What next, fines for schoolkids playing ball in fields that have barred ball games. Fines for people who accidentally mount their wheels on the kerb whilst parking. Prison for people who drop litter. Lets have some fucking perspective for once.This poxy country is already overladen with legislation and fines for pathetic offecnce, with prisons containing people who haven't paid ...errr fines, or their TV Licence. When will the people of this country get the bollocks to mount campaigns of civil disobedience, like the French do, to stop being trodden on like doormats by this overpowering, bad breath suffering, legislation mad government? In France, the government does things like this, the French either strike, or they ignore it. If we had 10% of their free spirit, then perhaps we could class ourselves as free society. As it is, we just lamely accept everyting that comes our way and I for one, am sick of a society that penalises ordinary people for trivial offences and coppers nick people for speeding on Motorways, yet old people get mugged, children get bullied, murders and rapes are rising, gun crime is increasing and drug use is on the increase (don't even start me on drugs policy......read High Society by Ben Elton, then you'll find my views). Just think how much serious crime could be cut if we diverted the police resources to that instead of sitting on roadsides for hours on end!
Later GrocerJack
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