Cruel to be kind

Oh my God I look Cute!!Firstly, apologies for the password protected post.   Maybe I will open it up in the future, but right now…that one is for me.

Anyhoo, I was chatting to DS yesterday and was reminded (I forget how) about something that happened a few years ago.

I was walking through a shopping center (mall to you non Brits) when I noticed, some way in front of me, a parent caring for a child in a pushchair…as I got closer I could see that the child was in some distress and was coughing a lot.   Obviously, as a parent myself I was concerned for the little mite, and was even a little relieved when I got close and saw that he had calmed down and was no longer in clear distress.

However, I noticed something…something far more insidious and I recognised it immediately as the possible cause of the poor childs coughing fit.   It was an allergic reaction, and it was so obvious to me that I had to mention it to the father.   I guess that, as a parent, you can’t always notice the dangers around your child, especially from something so innocuous.

So, being the kind hearted parent and good citizen that I am, I leant in close to the father and mentioned..”I think I see what caused your son to choke, I am pretty sure it is an allergic reaction”.   The father looks up at me, somewhat quizzically now, but not dismissive of this strangers advice.   “What is it?” says he.

I take a deep breath, almost a sigh really and point my finger in the direction of the child…pointing directly to a mark on the childs chest.   So obvious now that I come to think of it, I almost felt sorry that this father was so clearly blinded by the love for his child and the distress that he had felt.   He followed my gaze to the offending mark and that’s when he realised and I saw a look of understanding….it was the Manchester United crest on the childs shirt.   A glimmer of recognition flashed across his face and he turns to see me nodding sympathetically.

“That’s close to child cruelty right there” says I, “You are lucky I don’t report you to child services mate” as I back away from the loving fathers swinging fist.   Such a strangely angry reaction for such a random act of kindness from a stranger.

As I rapidly accelerate away, I think to myself:

“There is just no helping some people”

It's all in the lyrics

The ProclaimersOften the best things about any song is how the lyrics seem to apply to your life.   It could be that they seem to have been written specifically for you, or that you extract something powerful and meaningful to yourself from them.   It has to be mentioned though, this doesn’t apply to all songs.

I was on the phone to CW last night and at some point, the unmistakeable strains of 500 Miles by the Proclaimers drifted up into the apartment..

Now, on some levels, the lyrics aren’t all that bad.   It could be taken as a testament to the love that these 2 identical twins   have for this one woman, that they are willing to walk so very far, just to be with her.   I mean it seems to start off fairly well:

When I wake up yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
When I go out yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you

So, if we are to assume that they go to bed together (one of the twins and the woman….otherwise Eek! ), and she isn’t planning on doing a runner (this assumes she hasn’t heard of the rest of his plans)…chances are that he will wake up next to her, and clearly if plans are made to, say, go for a walk the next morning…her will indeed be the man who goes along with her.   Nothing strange there, some might be overly critical and wonder why he is stating the frickin obvious, but *meh* so far so bland.

If I get drunk yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
And if I haver yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you

Ok, getting drunk is starting to show a level of stupidity now.   They already said that they want to go out after waking up next to this woman, but after guys get wrecked, the most we can accomplish the following day is to stagger…stagger like a man in the desert in need of water…to the couch.   Also, most women aren’t overly enamoured by suitors being wrecked..unless they are planning to get wrecked together…but even then I would expect a level of control.   It’s just when you combine it with the last bit that I become concerned.   Not satisfied with getting drunk next to this woman (notice ‘next to’, not with…) he intends to haver her.   Now I know what some of you are thinking, but no..havering is not the act of drunken lovemaking.   It essentially means to talk bollocks.   So this guy, is going to sit next to the object of his affections, get pissed beyond all measurable belief and talk bollocks to her.   Oh you romantic bastard, she will positively swoon with joy at your overt show of affection, she will clearly be wondering if a proposal of marriage will be forthcoming as you have put so much effort into the evening.

But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles
To fall down at your door

Now I don’t know about you, but I have some issues with the chorus.   It seems quite harmless…some may even say sweet…the statement of being prepared to walk 500 miles, and then another 500 miles is almost kind of beautiful.   However, presuming they are in the UK… Land’s End to John O’ Groats is 837 miles by car, walking would be less…which would mean that even if they were seperated by the maximum distance you can be in the UK, he would have to get to her place and then just circle it for a couple of hundred miles, which seems a little dim to me.   On top of this if, you are together in Land’s End after spending such clearly wonderful times waking up and getting drunk (with occasional bouts of bollocks talking), and she moves to John O’ Groats…she is clearly making a statement mate.   Let it go.

Even if it was to be taken as a very romantic gesture and, ignoring all the inherent stupidity in not using some form of transportation (bad as it is), she was willing to welcome you with open arms…would you really fall down at her door?   I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense to fall down on her couch….with a cup of tea?   Or maybe fall onto her doorbell…so she would at least know you were there.   You made it 1000 miles, you have been walking around her block for almost 200 miles, presumably without stopping.   You can make it in the house…have a little faith dude.

When I’m working yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you
And when the money comes in for the work I’ll do
I’ll pass almost every penny on to you

Working hard for her…nice sentiment.   I like that, it shows a level of responsibility and commitment that have so far been lacking.   Be careful though, giving all of your money to her is a dangerous thing, you will have none left for taking her out and getting drunk with her.   After all, you can’t expect her to pay all of the time, surely you aren’t that guy.

When I come home yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old well I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you

Yet another obvious statement, presuming that she hasn’t taken all of his money and ran off with the Window Cleaner.   If they are living together, he will be coming back home to her when he goes home.   Does it need to be said?   Really?

The next line interests me though..”If I grow old”, IF…. Maybe there is some secret immortality recipe mixed in with the batter of the deep fried Mars Bars that the Scottish fellows are known to eat.   Maybe a study could be done to see if   high fat/cholesterol is akin to a delicious fountain of youth type thing?   Either that or they realised that they had overused the word “when” and needed to shake it up a little, just to keep us on our toes….Either way I am impressed.

But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles
To fall down at your door

Nuff said about the chorus really…

When I’m lonely yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man whose lonely without you
When I’m dreaming yes I know I’m gonna dream
Dream about the time when I’m with you.

Is he suggesting she is going to die here?   I mean, they just got together right?   She is a catch dude!   Admittedly, after you got pissed and started talking bollocks, she moved as far away as she could get without leaving the country…but with the whole walking thing you won her back…clearly there is love there.   What’s wrong?   Was it the chase that was the most interesting thing, now it’s all “Stop talking bollocks and are you drinking again!   My mother is coming over, you better not say anything like that to her…” etc etc etc.   This just says to me that maybe you should walk the 800 miles back and find someone else.   Dream about her?   I would guess your natural (and obvious) stalker tendencies would mean you are prone to such things…maybe you are dreaming about the time you wrapped your hands around her throat…in an effort to stop her nagging.

But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles
To fall down at your door

Stupid fucking chorus….

Next week…No Limit by 2 Unlimited Wink

I couldn't have guessed

Donner Kebab, Cologne, GermanyNow let me just say, I am all for surveys and research to be carried out if it is for something important, useful or even surprising if the subject matter is interesting enough..but this??? http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/7852168.stm

For those of you that don’t want/can’t be arsed to follow another link, let me summise.   Research was undertaken, no doubt at the tax payers expense, to provide us with the knowledge that kebabs..that staple of all drunken hunger cravings…are, wait for it, BAD FOR YOU.

Oh my god, why did noone mention this before.   Maybe this is where I have been going wrong over the years.   Will they commission another study to warn us of the risks of walking in front of cars travelling above 40 mph?   What about the dangers of eating a bucket of lard a day, washed down with a litre of syrup?   I heard a nasty rumour that having your head cut off is really painful and possibly terminal…I wonder if 76 councils could look into it for me to be sure?

That’s right, it took officers from 76 councils, over 450 samplings to draw this conclusion.   Is it just me or does that just sound like they went on a huge bender over christmas and thought…how can we stick this on expenses?

Apparently some contained different meat to what was advertised…MEAT – I am impressed they can even call it that…I have seen them arrive, wrapped in blue cellophane wrap with “Medical Waste” stamped on the side.   I swear I saw a watch and a pair of trainers once.   This isn’t meat and frankly it isn’t supposed to, you should only attempt to eat a British Kebab when wrecked to the point of not being able to stand…where the fat that drips off this “meat” will congeal and act as a binding agent in an effort to stop yourself from throwing up…which you inevitably will as they taste like crap.   Why do you think so many people smother them in ridiculously hot sauce…it’s not for the added taste, it is your mind generating a natural defence mechanism and trying to mask what is laughingly referred to as the “taste” with something that will cause you to lose all sensation in your mouth and allow your alcohol addled mind to think it is pleasant.

Fortunately, I live in Germany and we don’t have kebabs out here, we get kebaps…and they at least have the appearance of meat…and the sauces actually add to the taste.   Also, it is perfectly acceptable to eat one without the need for alcohol.   That said, I am pretty sure I won’t using them as part of a calorie controlled diet.

What surprised you this week?

Distraction…

Exit st. Laz.Haven’t posted for a little while as I have been somewhat….distracted by recent events, most of them good.

I have a question though, escalators are stairs that move, right?   So why, when they aren’t moving (which, by definition, just makes them…well… stairs), do people look like bambi on ice when they try and walk up them.   I am fortunate in that, with my 2 remaining braincells, I can work out to just take the normal stairs….that are right next to the escalator.   Do these people think that the escalator with the STOP sign lit up will magically start moving as soon as they set foot on it?   Are they in some sort of trance like state that forces them to perform that same little jig that they do to moving escalators…you know, the one that you hope stops you from falling over but actually makes you look like the worlds most indecisive triple jumper.

Also, in the UK, trains are not reknowned for being on time all that often…so when a train finally pulls up, the whole station seems to want to get on it.   I can understand that as, let’s face it, you seriously don’t know when the next one will actually show up.   However, here in Germany a late train is anything over 2 minutes late…and they run ALL of the time.   A quick glance at the arrivals board the other day showed that the next 3 trains were coming no more than 4 minutes apart…and that continues all day.   So with that in mind, why did I find myself faceplanted into the window opposite the open door by an influx of people so severe…I thought that someone had announced a 99% off shoe sale at an expensive ladies shoe shop.   People were so close that I would normally expect that they buy me dinner…or at least provide some lube.   On top of that, my face was pressed up against a sign that announces the seating/standing limit for the carriage, which is clearly not set with any sense of reality…who the hell enforces these things anyway…I feel violated and dirty.   Alternatively, I could have wandered into a Guinness World Record attempt…I have been distracted somewhat after all.

Anyhoo…back to my week of distraction….to say that I have had the most amazing week is something of an understatement.   I normally blog when I see something that just grabs me…or reminds me of things that have happened in the past…but what happens when someone is happy and has pretty much lost his cynicism as a result…..no posts for a while is what.   Sorry 3 people… Wink

Actually, that should probably just be sorry MH…seeing as he has been putting all the pressure on me to write something.   So what could have distracted me and been so amazing?   Well, you may have read my last post about running the gauntlet of dental pain, that was fixed finally with a 3rd root canal to permanently fill the tooth.

I am no longer scared of the dentist and frankly just waltzed into the place pointing and winking at people in a Fonz’esque manner, jumped into the chair, threw my head back with my mouth open and said “Screw the anaesthetic, let’s do this shizzle”.   Ok, so maybe I wasn’t quite so relaxed about it, but for me it was pretty good.   Cue four hours slightly upside down with a dental assistant trying to help the dentist by being so close I thought she was looking for somewhere to sit in there.

I must confess to one moment of sheer bowel emptying terror though…picture the scene; I have had my mouth open for almost 2 hours, the dentists hands in there for most of that time and a dental assistant so close that I didn’t know if I should enjoy it or sue for sexual harrassment… Something is said in German, I don’t recognise these strange alien words of which they form.   I do however recognise a propane torch being fired up in front of my eyes and close enough to feel the heat…Fonz’esque Dave exits stage left, to be replaced by shaking like a shitting dog’esque Dave as panic sets in.   The dentist then starts heating up an instrument with the torch and I am desperately trying to dislocate my jaw to ensure this thing doesn’t touch anything that had not been numbed.   Relaxing eh Smile

After 2 and a half hours, the dentist tells me that they can now begin to fix my nasty front teeth…which they do…really well…to my utter amazement, and I get the hell out of there after a mere 4 hours….and I haven’t stopped smiling since, although that isn’t entirely to do with the teeth….

The day after the dentist, I get my new phone from my brother in the mail, a spangly N95, which is a frickin’ great phone with a ridiculously loud set of speakers, as MH and NB discovered to their near heart failure when my text message alert sounded, to that memorable scene from “A Few Good Men” where Cruise and Nicholson are ranting at each other about answers and truth in the court room.   Also, I couldn’t possibly confirm that, this morning, with the phone on silent and in my pocket….whilst I was in the little boys room….that I discovered that my phone was not in fact on silent, but may in fact have been on Outdoor…when the phone rang and it was probably the best location to be in…as I pretty much shi….nah, will leave it there Wink

As you can see…quite a hectic and distracting week right?   No you say?   Fair enough, I can’t lie to you internet so I will tell you the rest…I met CW a few weeks ago in the bar and we hit it off, although, as it usually does for me, I thought I had just made another good friend.   Which was nice in itself.   Then we started chatting on Facebook for a while, which progressed to phonecalls..but still, all very friendly.   Then came IPs schoolgirl/boy themed party and, along with lots of others, CW came in costume.   We were getting on great and then it happened…the first kiss (but not in the pet food section), and thus began the nicest week of distraction I can remember.   Neither of us knows where it is/could be going and we are just enjoying spending time together..but I have to say, I already know that that I want to know more and for the first time in a year, I am happy it isn’t just a one night stand.

I will probably be writing about CW more in the near future…but I have rambled enough for one post Grin

How was your week??

The pain…the paaaain!

Smile!I think that the title is a quote attributed to the Hunchback of Notre Dame, which is quite appropriate seeing as I look like him at the moment. Either that or a hamster with loads of food in his left hand mouth pouch thing.

I haven’t slept in a while, thanks to what I believe to be an abscess.   There is nothing I have experienced that is more frustrating than toothache.   It is so focussed and there is nothing you can do to relieve it.   Cold irritates it, warm pisses it off, direct contact makes it fight back – This thing is the surly teenager of teeth and it is determined to let me know how much it hates me.   So I have to go to the dentist today, one of the few places that will make me regress to a scared child.   I already mentioned my fear of dentists before, so you can probably imagine that I am heading there with no small amount of trepidation.   That said, I have researched this guy on the internet and he is undoubtedly not Australian, so fingers crossed.   This is the guy that I used to take the kids to when they lived out here with me…so if I am a good boy, I may get to choose a cool toy to take home.

It is such a bizarre psychological response though, I am sat here typing, with just under an hour before my appointment, and I can barely type I am shaking so much.   I have smoked almost half of a pack of smokes since I made the appointment and I keep irrationally praying for the pain to stop so that I can avoid going.   I am a rational, almost intelligent man..yet I can’t stop this involuntary panic.   I know it needs to be done, I also know that he may remove the tooth…he will most certainly comment on the state of my teeth, but I will at least be able to get a quote to get whatever teeth I have left after today (you never know) fixed.   Maybe I should download a Paul McKenna self hypnosis thing to stop the fear?   Damnit, why didn’t I think of this when I was booking the appointment….I could be happy and oblivious right now….you know, my usual state of mind…

I will finish this off when I get back..providing I can type of course.

Ok, so I am back now and now I feel like Quasimodo…I can’t feel the left side of my face…or my lower lip.   Had to have a root canal done, which was about as nice as you can imagine.   2 things though, firstly fair play to the dentist who made sure it didn’t hurt too much, although he did manage to lose a piece of one of his instruments in my tooth…it’s ok, he “hopes” that it won’t cause any problems before I go back to do it all again.   Secondly, they gave me a free professional clean afterwards, which was great except it hurt more than the frickin root canal…what the fuck is that all about?!?

Still, it wasn’t an abscess although it would probably have become one.   The whole experience has confirmed my suspicions though, after having instruments in my mouth by multiple people….I could never be a prostitute.

I better look for another fallback career..I’ll start doing that as I try to smoke out of the only part of my mouth I can still feel.

Now where can I find those hypnosis downloads?…I have to go back on Friday.

I like driving in my car

Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VI Tommi Makinen EditionI am considering buying a car at the moment.   I am looking at the new Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution.   It is expensive, but if I am honest, there are two things that appeal to me about the car.   The first is that I live in Germany, the land of fast motorways..the second is the thought of seeing the face of my kids as I pull up to get them in their favourite car.   Let’s ignore the fact that I can’t afford one for now..

There is a third thing, and that is the fact that it would be new.   I still miss my old Alfa, sure it had it’s annoyances and foibles, not to mention how much it cost to do anything with it, the noise it made going round in circles and all the other faults that drove me insane.   Finally it blew a valve once too often and I got shot of it, but I knew everything about that car and especially how to make it tick.   It was comfortable I guess.   I could never have an Alfa now though, I look back at all the reasons I loved that car and realise that there are far more why I don’t.   Plus, when I got it, they were rare…now they seem to let anyone drive one.   So I think it is about time I got myself a new car, it has been long enough without one of my own…you can only borrow one for the night so many times before you want one to drive whenever the mood takes you.

Let’s face it though, I live in the land of the BMW/Mercedes/Audi and Volkswagen.   I don’t like the new Volkswagens, have never been keen on any Mercedes other than the sports versions that I could probably never afford, Top Gear have said that an Audi is officially the car of the Cock these days…which leaves a BMW as my only realistic alternative.   The problem of course is that the BMW held the title of Cockmobile for so long, I wonder if it will regain its title soon after I buy.   Which takes me back to the Evo.   Such a great car..fast, full of electronics (me likey)…oh and did I say fast?

I have had some great cars in my time..not necessarily great cars, but great memories with them and therefore great cars to me.

My first was a pristine Morris Marina, which was older than me when my Mum and Dad presented it to me, one owner from new and immaculate.   All I remember really was that it had the capability to be run ragged and keep going.   It had a solid steel bumper and because the suspension comprised of these weird elastic band type things, the back end was quite high.   This led to a number of issues.   The first was when, on a winters night with the windows iced up, I reversed into my (soon to be) wifes neighbours car.     The question that was raised the next day to her was “Does Daves car have a towbar?”…which it didn’t..so I did the only thing I could do…I owned up and paid for the damage shook my head and commented on “dishonest bastards”.   The self same bumper also did about ?1000 worth of damage to a Ford Sierra that rear-ended me at traffic lights.   I pull up at some lights, and start to take a swig of my coke when, BANG, idiot smacks straight into the back of me.   I motion for him to pull over after the lights change and we both get out.   When I get to the back of my car, I notice the massive amount of damage to this guys car, seriously, the bumper was hanging off..the grill was completely wrecked and his bonnet was crumpled.   I think one or both of his headlights were knackered aswell.   I quickly look to my car…just in time to see a small fleck of rust wafting its way to the ground like a leaf in the autumn.   I didn’t feel the need to get the guys insurance details and I went on my merry way.

The constant abuse that I gave the car almost came back to hurt me though, when a bearing came loose from the gearbox and literally shot out of the side of the gearbox housing….it was only blind luck that it didn’t come into the car….

I had a Ford Sierra (other wise known as a Ford Clitoris..every cu…nah) a Vauxhall Nova that had the distinction of breaking down whenever I wanted to go anywhere, especially if there was any rain.   There was a Renault 19 that lasted pretty well, until some idiot joyriders smashed into Sarah when she was driving it home.   Come to think of it, they were driving a Sierra…I hate Sierras, or at least they hate me.

Then I had a black Peugeot 306 Turbo that tried to kill me on the way to work when all of the electrics failed at around 100MPH….meaning I couldn’t use the electrically assisted brakes.   This woudln’t have been too much of a problem except for the huge traffic jam a mile or so ahead of me…and all of the traffic around me that basically wouldn’t let me pull in.   In the end I had to use the handbrake to slow down and force my way across traffic to the hard shoulder…with black smoke pouring off my tires.   My lasting memory of that was phoning my bitch boss from hell at the time and telling her what had happened.   All she asked was “Well…how late are you going to be?”.   Nice.

I have already mentioned my next Peugeot, and just before I got the Alfa, I had a Ford Mondeo.   Although, just before the Mondeo was delivered I was driving around in a rented Vauxhall Vectra (sorry Top Gear) for a while…that Sarah reversed into a concrete wall one night.   Our driveway at the time was very long and had a (surprise) concrete wall along the length of it.   She was taking Lisa home on a very foggy night and when she started to reverse she asked Lisa if she was clear.   Lisa, thinking that she was referring to other cars, said yes.   Unfortunately, she was referring to the wall.   Cue acceleration and a loud noise, which put a sizeable scratch/dent combination into the passenger side.     A few weeks later, I am making sure the scratch/dent combination is covered in dirt as I had to give the car back to the rental company….fortunately the guy collecting the car was on the phone and didn’t notice..thanks to some crafty parking by me Wink

So there you have it, maybe I shouldn’t buy a car after all…it will only end up in disaster

Lts srt ths 1ce n 4 all!!

txt msgWhat am I talking about? Fucking text speak of course. Wait, that should be “fckn txt spk f crs”…maybe…I honestly can’t be sure.

Why is it that the need to write short messages has essentially caused us to become illiterate cretins.   Oh, and by us I mean people other than me…and probably you…but you over there, stop it..yeah you, you know who you are.

I mean seriously, it is ok when sending an SMS (barely) if…and only if, typing the thing in full would either a) make the message more than one SMS long or b) cause the person sending it to die…or something.   It, however, is never OK if you are not restricted to the length of message you send, or if the message you are going to send would (in full) not be over the limit that you have.   It should be punishable by death to use it in a forum post, blog or email.   Email….I have recieved emails made up of this shit.   It beggars belief, it really does.

It’s almost like there is an international letters crisis, and everyone has to watch out how many they use in case we run out.   The various Prime Ministers, Chancellors and Presidents will soon start finding ways to inject dictionaries and extra letters into circulation in an effort to stimulate literacy.   I am all for abbreviations when the person who is reading it isn’t required to reply to you to get a fucking idea what you meant.   I have been guilty of using FFS, BTW and LOL on many occasions, but at least people know what the hell I am talking about…generally…sorry Mum!

If you can’t spell very well, fair enough, turn on predictive text messaging…even the most basic phone has this capability and let’s face it, if you don’t know what the word begins with, you have no hope of shrinking it down to the illegible bollocks I keep seeing over and over again anyway.

Maybe it’s an age thing and I am just not home with the downies enough to get it.   I doubt it though.   I went through some of my drunk New Years Eve texts..and to be honest, bar the odd spelling mistake, I still managed to be more understandable than some of this crap.   Also, my daughter manages to text without causing me to suffer an artery popping 5 minutes trying to decipher what is being said…half the time it is like trying to crack the Enigma code all over again.   I am half expecting Websters or Collins to coin in and release a text speak dictionary in the near future…I’m not sure how it would sell though…who the hell would know what Wbstrs Dctnry means?

Ne wy am guna wch sm tv nw – l8rs

Happiness is….

A perfect weekend watching Tom & Jerry on tv and laughing...…hard to define.   If it is good friends, fun and more than a smattering of weekend alcoholic goodness…I am there.

Reconnecting with your children and, being able to enjoy them so much that, you don’t even touch a computer when they are awake…I am there

Getting on with your family in ways that you haven’t for the last 12 years or so….I am there.

Enjoying time on your own to just be…I am there.

Discovering that you have feelings for someone (even if they are unrequited)…I couldn’t possibly commit Razz

Happiness…I am there….probably

A bit of a bizarre way to start any post off, particularly with someone that claims to have dangly bits of a testicular nature but, screw it, there it is.   There are probably any number of other reasons as to why I am happy and any number of those could come crashing down at any moment.   Sure, I get maudlin from time to time, wondering what I could/should have done differently…I think everyone does but, the difference between old me and new me (by new I don’t just mean 2009…in your face resolutions…in your doomed to fail face!), I don’t let it get me down or even bother me for longer than the time it takes to dwell on it in the first place.

The thing is,   I love to just spend time doing things these days…it could be wandering aimlessly around Frankfurt…going for a beer at the pub, visiting friends, going to watch a concert, even playing sport occasionally.   My computer is now a chat/tv show machine and I like it that way.   I used to be reclusive, I used to prefer to play a computer game than get out there and do things…not anymore.   Case in point, I bought a game that a lot of my old gamer friends play.   I bought this game about 3-4 months ago and it cost me â??60.   I installed the game that very night and configured it all special for me.   I have actually played the game…well, let me see…no times at all.   For those of you keeping count that is zero, nada, zip, zilch etc..

I have just finished reading “The Yes Man” by Danny Wallace and, whilst I haven’t gone anywhere near the extremes he did, there are a lot of similarities to my last 12 months and the book.   Essentially I say yes more.   It didn’t take a bearded man on a bus to get me to do it either, just a desire to get out there.   It has lead to some great fun this last year, it has also lead to being drunk at work and hungover at work (2 different times), a number of one night stands that culminated in a stalker and lord knows what else that I didn’t already cover in my Happy New Year post.

It has been said that I spend too much time in the pub….not at all, although maybe too much money…but where else can you witness comedy gold without paying an entry fee…and get picture evidence to upload to Facebook for the world to see (when they sober up).   Incidentally…how can I be held accountable for people “Looking like an arsehole on Facebook” when they were the ones pulling the stupid poses??   Answer me that PM, answer me that!

Shite…I was doing so well too…it has been ages since I didn’t know where I was going with a post…although with this one I didn’t know where I was going from the bloody title.   At least my ability to talk bollocks hasn’t deserted me Smile

Are you happy?   If so, why?   If not….shut the fuck up and don’t ruin my buzz dude Wink

Oh dear god

Hear No Evil - 080808So..it is just past lunch on my first day at work in the new year, and I am already glad that I don’t have much hair.   It would most definitely be torn out already.

Seriously, how hard is it to remember a single frickin’ password for just over a week?   Also, if you do forget it…try not to shout at my team when they tell you that you have to visit our office for a reset.   This is not new, you have done it at least 5 times in the last few months (ticket history is great).

I won’t apologise for my level of sarcasm when I respond to your claims of “Never had to come to the office before”…when 3 of the last 5 tickets were created and solved by myself….and I don’t do over the phone.

If you phone up to chew me out because your account extension didn’t go through don’t expect sympathy when, after I manage to get an emergency 24 hour extension, you call back to give me the number of a request that was created an hour AFTER your phonecall.   No, no need to apologise…I am here to take your abuse…no problemo (account/change pass/confirm).   See you soon Wink

We have taken over 250 calls since 08:30 this morning, and honestly, over 90% of these were from people that couldn’t remember their passwords from a week ago…..The others were from people who seem to have forgotten that the email reminders of their pending password expiry need to be acted on…or how to change their password…or their frickin’ username (here’s a hint…it starts with your LAST FUCKING NAME)

Umm…better stop before I really go on a rant…

How’s your day been so far?