Big Day, Big Night
Yep, its finally here. The day I've been dreading and looking forward to at the same time. Tension has been building for the last week or so, and well, there's no way I can avoid it, no matter what I feel inside. I am going to have to throw away all trepidation and just get on and try and celebrate. Yep, you've got it, todays is DC's 40th Birthday. Actually she seems pretty cool about it all, but we'll see how that changes after the undoubtedly copious amount of Champagne and Wine she's gonna drink today. Still she wanted "low key" and that's what I've provided. Teenager actually spoke civilly to us both this morning, I think even she understands the milestone that DC has reached. Baby just loves a birthday, no matter whose it is! She is at the age where life is completely untroubled. The still completely innocent age. My envy shows yet again.
Oh yeah and there's a game of footie on tonight involving another love of my life. Chelsea vs Monaco, Champions (sic) League Semi-final 1st leg. Yes, I will actually watch this one tonight, because even if we lose then we have another leg at home in which to make amends. I will be is Spain for that game, and The King, The Major and The Worrier are not going to let me hide that night. Oh dear the OU course falls even further behind schedule. But to be truthful it is very dull at the moment and it's a real job to motivate myself to study. Watch how that changes if we concede a goal tonight!
Later, Grocerjack
Tuesday, 20 April 2004
Monday, 19 April 2004
Daylight Robbery?
I am going on a golf week to Spain on May 2nd. I booked this about 10 months ago to ensure myself and my mates got the dates we wanted, the tee times we wanted and some reasonable flights. The company we booked through did a fantastic job last year, but this year they came back with an outgoing flight of 16:45, meaning arrival in Spain at 20:00 (local time), which means by the time we have cleared customs, collected our kit and got to the car hire place it would be 21:00 on a good day. Then collecting the car, loading it up and driving the 25 or so miles to the hotel will mean AT BEST we'd be there at around 22:00. A bit shit really! Then checking in and going to the rooms means there hardly likely time for a beer before it's time for bed!
So I asked them for a better outgoing flight, accepting the incoming flight departure time of 18:00 as not being great, but then its on the way home so who cares? They came back with an 08:00 outbound flight, so an early start, but we'd be there early and be able to relax on the first afternoon before our game on the Monday. For this they charged us another £75. We duly paid.
Today they called to say the tickets were in place, but the times had changed. OK, I thought, maybe an hour or so....but no! We are now back on the original flight out, but we are not liable for any refund! Apparently the airlines can do this because it's within a 12 hour window of the original flight so it's not a "major" disruption! So we paid an extra £75 for our original flight and we can't do a fucking thing about it or even get the money back! Start of holiday bollocksed up, no recourse. Wankers. They have effectively picked our pockets in full view of us and we can't do a thing!
The return flight has also been moved to 21:55! Great so now we're back in the UK at fucking midnight! Which means I'm not home until 2 in the poxy morning. Which means the course I'm booked on the next day is now going to have to be canned. Worse than that, we're out of the room at 10, but can't go to the airport until at least 18:00, unless our idea of fun is sitting in Malaga airport watching the fucking planes (actually I wouldn't mind that but the others would never let me forget it!). So what do we do, go to Marbella with our cases packed and our golf stuff in the car. Call me old fashioned, or just plain suspicious but we might as well put a sign on the car saying "Golfers out and about - £5 grands worth of gear in here!"
I was remarkably calm and kept it in for a couple of hours. I told the others (The King, The Major and The Worrier) who weren't happy, but I rang the tour company back and asked them to arrange a room for us to leave our stuff in on the day and to arrange a game for us on our departure date - free of charge. It might just be enough to sooth our collective furrowed brows. Not too much to ask is it?
Lessons learned - book your own flights, buy your own place, don't rely on Jack to make the arrangements without being cursed at some point. Never , ever use Airtours!
Later, Grocerjack
I am going on a golf week to Spain on May 2nd. I booked this about 10 months ago to ensure myself and my mates got the dates we wanted, the tee times we wanted and some reasonable flights. The company we booked through did a fantastic job last year, but this year they came back with an outgoing flight of 16:45, meaning arrival in Spain at 20:00 (local time), which means by the time we have cleared customs, collected our kit and got to the car hire place it would be 21:00 on a good day. Then collecting the car, loading it up and driving the 25 or so miles to the hotel will mean AT BEST we'd be there at around 22:00. A bit shit really! Then checking in and going to the rooms means there hardly likely time for a beer before it's time for bed!
So I asked them for a better outgoing flight, accepting the incoming flight departure time of 18:00 as not being great, but then its on the way home so who cares? They came back with an 08:00 outbound flight, so an early start, but we'd be there early and be able to relax on the first afternoon before our game on the Monday. For this they charged us another £75. We duly paid.
Today they called to say the tickets were in place, but the times had changed. OK, I thought, maybe an hour or so....but no! We are now back on the original flight out, but we are not liable for any refund! Apparently the airlines can do this because it's within a 12 hour window of the original flight so it's not a "major" disruption! So we paid an extra £75 for our original flight and we can't do a fucking thing about it or even get the money back! Start of holiday bollocksed up, no recourse. Wankers. They have effectively picked our pockets in full view of us and we can't do a thing!
The return flight has also been moved to 21:55! Great so now we're back in the UK at fucking midnight! Which means I'm not home until 2 in the poxy morning. Which means the course I'm booked on the next day is now going to have to be canned. Worse than that, we're out of the room at 10, but can't go to the airport until at least 18:00, unless our idea of fun is sitting in Malaga airport watching the fucking planes (actually I wouldn't mind that but the others would never let me forget it!). So what do we do, go to Marbella with our cases packed and our golf stuff in the car. Call me old fashioned, or just plain suspicious but we might as well put a sign on the car saying "Golfers out and about - £5 grands worth of gear in here!"
I was remarkably calm and kept it in for a couple of hours. I told the others (The King, The Major and The Worrier) who weren't happy, but I rang the tour company back and asked them to arrange a room for us to leave our stuff in on the day and to arrange a game for us on our departure date - free of charge. It might just be enough to sooth our collective furrowed brows. Not too much to ask is it?
Lessons learned - book your own flights, buy your own place, don't rely on Jack to make the arrangements without being cursed at some point. Never , ever use Airtours!
Later, Grocerjack
Friday, 16 April 2004
The Sandman he calleth......
Scene 1: The Office, various soulless people sitting at PC's staring blankly into their screens. Jack has a coffee, and is busy surfing the net........cue the sudden jolt of a phone ringing, playing an mp3 mini version of "Enter Sandman" by Metallica as its ring tone. It is The Sandman....on a mobile...a crackly mobile
Jack jumps, for it has been some time since direct contact has been forthcoming
Jack (verbal) : Hello Sandman, how are you (for Jack knows when to enter arslikhan mode)
Jack (mental): Fuck, what does he want, it must be bad......why else would he stoop to call such a lowly person
Sandman : I'm alright mate, I have a question for you
Jack (verbal) : Oh right...I'm all ears
Jack (mental): shit, I bet it's "Are you GrocerJack?" or "Have you thought about a future with more liberty?"
Sandman : Do you have any bandwidth available?
Jack (verbal) : Sorry?
Jack (mental) : Did he just ask me if I had a sandwich available?
Sandman : Do you have any bandwidth available?
Jack (mental): No way, he can't be asking me for a fucking sandwich...think Jack...think...
Jack (verbal) : Oh....errrr........yes I have some bandwidth available
Jack (mental): sighing...Well played son, well played
Sandman : OK, I need someone to manage our contracts with the third parties who we will be using as we outsource more and more of our Operations
Jack (mental): Oh I get it, and you want me to suggest someone sutiable
Jack (verbal): sounds interesting......do you have anyone in mind?
Sandman : I think you'd be right. You know all of our third party partners and solution providers, and we need to manage them better blah blah blah ( insert unnecessary corporate gobbledygook bollocks talk)
Jack verbal) : Ok, count me in, and thanks for thinking of me for the role
Jack (mental) : too eager you dick, too eager. Now he's gonna think you have loads of spare time (I do)
Sandman : OK, I'll clear it with M. You're sure you have the time to take this on
Jack (mental) : play it cool
Jack (verbal) : Well, none of us have that luxury do we...but I'll do my best. You can always be sure of that..
Jack (mental) : Jesus, that was good, a true corporate blow job if ever I gave one
Sandman : OK, good news, I'll touch base next week and we can chat further.
Jack (verbal) : Cheers, have a good weekend.
Jack (mental): Christ you'll be swallowing next. But whatever it takes......
And that was my morning...
Later, Grocerjack
Scene 1: The Office, various soulless people sitting at PC's staring blankly into their screens. Jack has a coffee, and is busy surfing the net........cue the sudden jolt of a phone ringing, playing an mp3 mini version of "Enter Sandman" by Metallica as its ring tone. It is The Sandman....on a mobile...a crackly mobile
Jack jumps, for it has been some time since direct contact has been forthcoming
Jack (verbal) : Hello Sandman, how are you (for Jack knows when to enter arslikhan mode)
Jack (mental): Fuck, what does he want, it must be bad......why else would he stoop to call such a lowly person
Sandman : I'm alright mate, I have a question for you
Jack (verbal) : Oh right...I'm all ears
Jack (mental): shit, I bet it's "Are you GrocerJack?" or "Have you thought about a future with more liberty?"
Sandman : Do you have any bandwidth available?
Jack (verbal) : Sorry?
Jack (mental) : Did he just ask me if I had a sandwich available?
Sandman : Do you have any bandwidth available?
Jack (mental): No way, he can't be asking me for a fucking sandwich...think Jack...think...
Jack (verbal) : Oh....errrr........yes I have some bandwidth available
Jack (mental): sighing...Well played son, well played
Sandman : OK, I need someone to manage our contracts with the third parties who we will be using as we outsource more and more of our Operations
Jack (mental): Oh I get it, and you want me to suggest someone sutiable
Jack (verbal): sounds interesting......do you have anyone in mind?
Sandman : I think you'd be right. You know all of our third party partners and solution providers, and we need to manage them better blah blah blah ( insert unnecessary corporate gobbledygook bollocks talk)
Jack verbal) : Ok, count me in, and thanks for thinking of me for the role
Jack (mental) : too eager you dick, too eager. Now he's gonna think you have loads of spare time (I do)
Sandman : OK, I'll clear it with M. You're sure you have the time to take this on
Jack (mental) : play it cool
Jack (verbal) : Well, none of us have that luxury do we...but I'll do my best. You can always be sure of that..
Jack (mental) : Jesus, that was good, a true corporate blow job if ever I gave one
Sandman : OK, good news, I'll touch base next week and we can chat further.
Jack (verbal) : Cheers, have a good weekend.
Jack (mental): Christ you'll be swallowing next. But whatever it takes......
And that was my morning...
Later, Grocerjack
Thursday, 15 April 2004
Nouvelle Cuisine is bollocks
The main distinguishing feature of the course, or at the very least the most contentious discussion point was the food supplied by the hotel.
Nouvelle Cuisine.
You see, this hotel is in a provincial market town, somewhere in the home counties. It thinks it's the Savoy or the Ritz, but this is an achievement it can never gain because it isn't in The Smoke. Only ridiculously overpriced hotels in London should attempt what this place did. Because only in London are there people who are rich enough and stupid enough to eat this Nouvelle Cuisine, and remark on how "marvellously presented it was dahling". It's the "Emporers New Clothes Syndrome" applied to food. However the food they served us was the abomination called Nouvelle Cuisine. Art on a plate. If I wanted "aesthetically pleasing" food then I would buy it and then frame the fucking thing. What I wouldn't do was to serve it up to 18 people on a course who were hungry because my own incapable staff couldn't do their job properly and supply any biscuits at break times.
So on the first day i selected the Roasted Guinea Fowl, with the "legumes de jour". The Guinea Fowl was obviusly a bit under nourished during it's life because it was the size of a sparrow - a sparrow in need of a good few worms. If this is the correct size for Guinea Fowl then I apologise for my ignorance....but for fucks sake give me 2 or 3 of them then! The vegetables were.....pathetic. Two strategically placed "baby" leeks - barely past the foetus stage in my view, with 2 newborn carrots the diameter of a pencil and the length of a Nokia 3330 mobile phone (someone used theirs to measure them!). As for the potato....well it was the size of a BABY cup cake, should such a thing exist. All drizzelled with some tasteless goo sauce. Oh my God! We communally sat there for 5 minutes waiting for the extra bowls of veg to arrive...but no...this was it. No starter, and this was the main course.
We had all eaten our miniature, but freshly heated Bread roll (white or "less white"), so when the offer of a second came, the staff could barely match the demand. You see , they had to go back and cook some more rolls, as they hadn't catered for the number of apparently heathen like guests who need more than 1 roll and some minute portions to survive an afternoon of performance coaching.
Get this as well - we had to pre-order the meals at 10 in the morning. Why then did the lunchtime meal of 2 courses, orange juice, bottled tap water and 2 bread rolls take an hour and a half to serve? Why was the orange juice freely available in jugs, but the water served in wine glasses, by a wine waiter, bottle in hand, cloth draped lovingly around the bottle?
The evening meal was more or less the same (allegedly it was chicken, but one guesses it was the cartoon variety such was the paucity of the portion available). Thje potato had changed though! No more cup cake for us. No - they had replaced it with what can best be described as a "skid mark" of potato.
Seriously.
It was like someone had dipped a paintbrush into the potato, wiped off the excess and then artistically brushed it over the plate in a painterly style, perhaps like early Picasso, or Van Gogh. What an absolute crock. Then there was the Cheese and biscuits. Biscuits again is a moot point here. They were of that nature, only smaller, more like Young Baby Ritz to put it in the correct parlance.
We got 7 of these alleged biscuits between each pair who ordered the Cheese and biscuits. Further orders for more biscuits were merely met with confused looks.
Yesterdays meal was a "rack of lamb", which is one of the most interesting uses of the word rack. Perhaps if the rack was new, and had been boil washed so as to shrink it to magnifying glass proportions I could accept it. Or perhaps theses artiste chefs have found some cunning method of cloning lambs into dwarf lambs. The lamb version of Mini-Me.
Pocket Lamb.
25 minutes from ordering the wine to the delivery of it. Were they treading the grapes freshly for us? Was the stuff being personally imported from the vineyards of Southern France? Someone actually had the temerity to complain about this for which they were rewarded with a bollocking from the Hotel Manager! Customer Service taken to new levels of rudeness. Our company pays £650 each delegate, you deliver shit, we complain even though it's not our money, and you bollock us! Basil Fawlty eat your heart out.
Is this what the rich and famous get when they eat in The Ivy or similar. If it is then thank God for Little Chef. It might be shit, but at least it's filling shit.
Later, Grocerjack
The main distinguishing feature of the course, or at the very least the most contentious discussion point was the food supplied by the hotel.
Nouvelle Cuisine.
You see, this hotel is in a provincial market town, somewhere in the home counties. It thinks it's the Savoy or the Ritz, but this is an achievement it can never gain because it isn't in The Smoke. Only ridiculously overpriced hotels in London should attempt what this place did. Because only in London are there people who are rich enough and stupid enough to eat this Nouvelle Cuisine, and remark on how "marvellously presented it was dahling". It's the "Emporers New Clothes Syndrome" applied to food. However the food they served us was the abomination called Nouvelle Cuisine. Art on a plate. If I wanted "aesthetically pleasing" food then I would buy it and then frame the fucking thing. What I wouldn't do was to serve it up to 18 people on a course who were hungry because my own incapable staff couldn't do their job properly and supply any biscuits at break times.
So on the first day i selected the Roasted Guinea Fowl, with the "legumes de jour". The Guinea Fowl was obviusly a bit under nourished during it's life because it was the size of a sparrow - a sparrow in need of a good few worms. If this is the correct size for Guinea Fowl then I apologise for my ignorance....but for fucks sake give me 2 or 3 of them then! The vegetables were.....pathetic. Two strategically placed "baby" leeks - barely past the foetus stage in my view, with 2 newborn carrots the diameter of a pencil and the length of a Nokia 3330 mobile phone (someone used theirs to measure them!). As for the potato....well it was the size of a BABY cup cake, should such a thing exist. All drizzelled with some tasteless goo sauce. Oh my God! We communally sat there for 5 minutes waiting for the extra bowls of veg to arrive...but no...this was it. No starter, and this was the main course.
We had all eaten our miniature, but freshly heated Bread roll (white or "less white"), so when the offer of a second came, the staff could barely match the demand. You see , they had to go back and cook some more rolls, as they hadn't catered for the number of apparently heathen like guests who need more than 1 roll and some minute portions to survive an afternoon of performance coaching.
Get this as well - we had to pre-order the meals at 10 in the morning. Why then did the lunchtime meal of 2 courses, orange juice, bottled tap water and 2 bread rolls take an hour and a half to serve? Why was the orange juice freely available in jugs, but the water served in wine glasses, by a wine waiter, bottle in hand, cloth draped lovingly around the bottle?
The evening meal was more or less the same (allegedly it was chicken, but one guesses it was the cartoon variety such was the paucity of the portion available). Thje potato had changed though! No more cup cake for us. No - they had replaced it with what can best be described as a "skid mark" of potato.
Seriously.
It was like someone had dipped a paintbrush into the potato, wiped off the excess and then artistically brushed it over the plate in a painterly style, perhaps like early Picasso, or Van Gogh. What an absolute crock. Then there was the Cheese and biscuits. Biscuits again is a moot point here. They were of that nature, only smaller, more like Young Baby Ritz to put it in the correct parlance.
We got 7 of these alleged biscuits between each pair who ordered the Cheese and biscuits. Further orders for more biscuits were merely met with confused looks.
Yesterdays meal was a "rack of lamb", which is one of the most interesting uses of the word rack. Perhaps if the rack was new, and had been boil washed so as to shrink it to magnifying glass proportions I could accept it. Or perhaps theses artiste chefs have found some cunning method of cloning lambs into dwarf lambs. The lamb version of Mini-Me.
Pocket Lamb.
25 minutes from ordering the wine to the delivery of it. Were they treading the grapes freshly for us? Was the stuff being personally imported from the vineyards of Southern France? Someone actually had the temerity to complain about this for which they were rewarded with a bollocking from the Hotel Manager! Customer Service taken to new levels of rudeness. Our company pays £650 each delegate, you deliver shit, we complain even though it's not our money, and you bollock us! Basil Fawlty eat your heart out.
Is this what the rich and famous get when they eat in The Ivy or similar. If it is then thank God for Little Chef. It might be shit, but at least it's filling shit.
Later, Grocerjack
Wednesday, 14 April 2004
Hungover (the reprise).....
Yep, they were that stupid! An all night long free bar. Well we attempted to drink the place dry, and of course we failed valiantly, but it was a good night, and strangely enough, it was a very enjoyable course. I am normally cynical about these "performance coaching" type courses as they are usually a load of LA/West Coast psychobabble shite. But this one was very good, with some interesting topics and unusual exercises from a very interesting and funny instructor. We even had Eddie Izzard video clips to demonstrate points being taught, plus clips from Planes, Trains and Automobiles and some very funny foreign adverts. So my cynicism is dulled a bit today and I feel a bit more upbeat about the job, and what I can make it. We'll see how long this lasts for. Having said that the course needed to be interesting to keep the walking detritus that was the delegates awake after the shenanigans of the night before.
Just a quick post tonight, but normal service should be resumed as of tomorrow...I need some non alcohol induced sleep starting almost immediately.
Later, Grocerjack
Yep, they were that stupid! An all night long free bar. Well we attempted to drink the place dry, and of course we failed valiantly, but it was a good night, and strangely enough, it was a very enjoyable course. I am normally cynical about these "performance coaching" type courses as they are usually a load of LA/West Coast psychobabble shite. But this one was very good, with some interesting topics and unusual exercises from a very interesting and funny instructor. We even had Eddie Izzard video clips to demonstrate points being taught, plus clips from Planes, Trains and Automobiles and some very funny foreign adverts. So my cynicism is dulled a bit today and I feel a bit more upbeat about the job, and what I can make it. We'll see how long this lasts for. Having said that the course needed to be interesting to keep the walking detritus that was the delegates awake after the shenanigans of the night before.
Just a quick post tonight, but normal service should be resumed as of tomorrow...I need some non alcohol induced sleep starting almost immediately.
Later, Grocerjack
Monday, 12 April 2004
Hungover
Thats why I haven't written. Good Friday was the piss up I haven't had for a very long time. Started midday, finished midnight (ish). Last hour completely unknown! There was no particular reason, just the fact that it was a Friday off and I guess we all felt like getting a little socially relaxed. Normal service to be resumed soon, on a course now for 2 days (Mastering Motivation) so updates might be difficult. Sounds like more corporate gobbledygook bollocks talk to me, but there is a free bar in the evening .....I mean are they stupid or something?
Later Grocerjack
PS, sorry to hear Croxy's condition has taken a slight turn for the worse. Hopefuilly it's just a blip.
Thats why I haven't written. Good Friday was the piss up I haven't had for a very long time. Started midday, finished midnight (ish). Last hour completely unknown! There was no particular reason, just the fact that it was a Friday off and I guess we all felt like getting a little socially relaxed. Normal service to be resumed soon, on a course now for 2 days (Mastering Motivation) so updates might be difficult. Sounds like more corporate gobbledygook bollocks talk to me, but there is a free bar in the evening .....I mean are they stupid or something?
Later Grocerjack
PS, sorry to hear Croxy's condition has taken a slight turn for the worse. Hopefuilly it's just a blip.
Thursday, 8 April 2004
Back to bloody normal....
DC, teenager and Baby came back yesterday from their weekend in Espana. Baby nearly knocked me off my feet with the welcome cuddle. I missed her a lot.
DC is already pissed off with me. Apparently I'm not affectionate enough. She has just spent the weekend with Bob6's wife, lets call her PostmanPattie. Bob6 and PostmanPattie are sickening together. They never stop kissing and cuddling, and saying things to each each other full of sexual innuendo...IN PUBLIC! Now, don't get me wrong I can be affectionate, but it's not really my nature to be continually expressive about my feelings, and I'm very private, so those feelings, sexual, romantic or whatever tend to be delivered to the intended recipient ...IN PRIVATE. However postman Pattie and Bob6 spent the weekend apart and , this is no word of a lie, sent each other in excess of 20 texts each, per day!! Now either they are very insecure, which is my guess, or they could genuinely have that sort of deeply loving relationship.
This might seem like a nice ideal, to be so deeply in love and infatuated with each other that you must be contacting each other by phone or text so frequently when apart, but I would find this very intrusive, and I guess most other guys would, and indeed most women. Most of my friends seem to have a balance on this, in that a couple of calls or texts per day whilst apart is sufficient. Anyway DC seems to have been polluted with this view that this is how normal people are. She says she doesn't compare our relationship with other couples, and then throws this at me. Oh really! Sorry to sound like a pig here, but what is it with women that they feel they need to change the guys they marry. I buy her flowers regularly, not at any specific frequency, but just as a surprise. We eat out, we make a point of spending Saturdays/Sundays with each other to make up for the "ships passing in the night" lifestyle during the week (like a lot of working couples do). I work all week. I strive to earn more to provide more. And still it doesn't seem to be enough. It makes me feel like giving up.
I am lost, it's a non-winnable argument. If I convince her that we are normal then that's a bubble burst and her expectations deflated, if I don't then I am admitting defeat and will have to start acting like Bob6. What a fucking choice.
Teenager never said much, nothing unusual there. In fact she seems to be straight back to MSN and her bloody mobile. Today she's off shopping with her friends, who happen to include Mini-Me. Mind you at this moment I envy the fuck out of her. Life must seem so trouble free to her sometimes. Perhaps that's where the occasional disconnect happens between us. My envy.
One last note - the Beckham "affair". So the fucking scum tabloids have decided it's his time to be knocked off his perch have they. So what if he is having an affair, it happens, every day, to lots of different people. Whatever the morality of having an affair, its still between two adults, who freely choose their actions. The pain they cause is something they are always going to be aware of. It may be morally wrong, but it happens for good reasons sometimes. Do we really live in an age where people are obliged to stay together in marital misery? And I say this....you don't choose who to love, love chooses you. If you fall in love with the "wrong" person, then the more you try to resist, the more that feeling grows.You are helpless. If Becks has fallen in love with her then he's helpless. If it's just a shag, then he's just acting like a lot of blokes. And she is acting like a lot of women these days...liberated and not labeled as some sort of slut just because she enjoys a healthy sex life. Most of us men are ruled by genitals first, heart second then our head, when it comes to women. Another fact from the GoGB archives.
If he isn't guilty (which I happen to believe) then will these pieces of trash publish huge front page apologies...will they bollocks. As for all this role model stuff, well he's a footballer, not a priest. He hasn't asked to be set up as a role model. If the tabs cared about him being a role model then they wouldn't pursue him, like they did Princess Diana, looking for the sleazy or scandalous story in order to shift their tainted rags. I know him and Posh court publicity, but that doesn't give anyone carte blanche access to all areas of their life. If the press didn't want to upset the kids who look to Becks a role model then don't print the fucking story. If the marriage has failed that will be painful enough, without a fucking camera lens and microphone recording every facet of it, and multiplying and exaggerating it for their alleged readers to digest like starving lions.
Nothing is more hypocritical than The Sun , The Daily Facist, or The Mirror, dictating morals, and determining the high ground views. Fuck me, The Sun and The News of the World wouldn't know what high ground was if they published it on the summit of Everest.
And I want Beckham to be on top form for Euro 2004, not worried about what the papers ay about his PRIVATE life (memo to editor of The Sun, Rebekah Wade....look up the word private in the dictionary you stupid bitch).
Later, when I've calmed down, Grocerjack.
DC, teenager and Baby came back yesterday from their weekend in Espana. Baby nearly knocked me off my feet with the welcome cuddle. I missed her a lot.
DC is already pissed off with me. Apparently I'm not affectionate enough. She has just spent the weekend with Bob6's wife, lets call her PostmanPattie. Bob6 and PostmanPattie are sickening together. They never stop kissing and cuddling, and saying things to each each other full of sexual innuendo...IN PUBLIC! Now, don't get me wrong I can be affectionate, but it's not really my nature to be continually expressive about my feelings, and I'm very private, so those feelings, sexual, romantic or whatever tend to be delivered to the intended recipient ...IN PRIVATE. However postman Pattie and Bob6 spent the weekend apart and , this is no word of a lie, sent each other in excess of 20 texts each, per day!! Now either they are very insecure, which is my guess, or they could genuinely have that sort of deeply loving relationship.
This might seem like a nice ideal, to be so deeply in love and infatuated with each other that you must be contacting each other by phone or text so frequently when apart, but I would find this very intrusive, and I guess most other guys would, and indeed most women. Most of my friends seem to have a balance on this, in that a couple of calls or texts per day whilst apart is sufficient. Anyway DC seems to have been polluted with this view that this is how normal people are. She says she doesn't compare our relationship with other couples, and then throws this at me. Oh really! Sorry to sound like a pig here, but what is it with women that they feel they need to change the guys they marry. I buy her flowers regularly, not at any specific frequency, but just as a surprise. We eat out, we make a point of spending Saturdays/Sundays with each other to make up for the "ships passing in the night" lifestyle during the week (like a lot of working couples do). I work all week. I strive to earn more to provide more. And still it doesn't seem to be enough. It makes me feel like giving up.
I am lost, it's a non-winnable argument. If I convince her that we are normal then that's a bubble burst and her expectations deflated, if I don't then I am admitting defeat and will have to start acting like Bob6. What a fucking choice.
Teenager never said much, nothing unusual there. In fact she seems to be straight back to MSN and her bloody mobile. Today she's off shopping with her friends, who happen to include Mini-Me. Mind you at this moment I envy the fuck out of her. Life must seem so trouble free to her sometimes. Perhaps that's where the occasional disconnect happens between us. My envy.
One last note - the Beckham "affair". So the fucking scum tabloids have decided it's his time to be knocked off his perch have they. So what if he is having an affair, it happens, every day, to lots of different people. Whatever the morality of having an affair, its still between two adults, who freely choose their actions. The pain they cause is something they are always going to be aware of. It may be morally wrong, but it happens for good reasons sometimes. Do we really live in an age where people are obliged to stay together in marital misery? And I say this....you don't choose who to love, love chooses you. If you fall in love with the "wrong" person, then the more you try to resist, the more that feeling grows.You are helpless. If Becks has fallen in love with her then he's helpless. If it's just a shag, then he's just acting like a lot of blokes. And she is acting like a lot of women these days...liberated and not labeled as some sort of slut just because she enjoys a healthy sex life. Most of us men are ruled by genitals first, heart second then our head, when it comes to women. Another fact from the GoGB archives.
If he isn't guilty (which I happen to believe) then will these pieces of trash publish huge front page apologies...will they bollocks. As for all this role model stuff, well he's a footballer, not a priest. He hasn't asked to be set up as a role model. If the tabs cared about him being a role model then they wouldn't pursue him, like they did Princess Diana, looking for the sleazy or scandalous story in order to shift their tainted rags. I know him and Posh court publicity, but that doesn't give anyone carte blanche access to all areas of their life. If the press didn't want to upset the kids who look to Becks a role model then don't print the fucking story. If the marriage has failed that will be painful enough, without a fucking camera lens and microphone recording every facet of it, and multiplying and exaggerating it for their alleged readers to digest like starving lions.
Nothing is more hypocritical than The Sun , The Daily Facist, or The Mirror, dictating morals, and determining the high ground views. Fuck me, The Sun and The News of the World wouldn't know what high ground was if they published it on the summit of Everest.
And I want Beckham to be on top form for Euro 2004, not worried about what the papers ay about his PRIVATE life (memo to editor of The Sun, Rebekah Wade....look up the word private in the dictionary you stupid bitch).
Later, when I've calmed down, Grocerjack.
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