Tales of the unexpected…..muahahahah

P1000950Ok, I will admit that I got the idea for this post from another blog….I don’t remember the blog, just that they did a post about ouija boards when they were a kid.

This reminded me about the time at school when our R.E. Teacher (Religious Eductation) decided to cave to the constant questioning from us all about the beyond and ghosts etc.   Let’s face it, there probably aren’t that many kids of 12 or 13 that are genuinely interested in religion….well, there certainly wasn’t at our school.   So, in honour of halloween, she caved and agreed to setup a Ouija board to dispel the myth once and for all.   In return, we all faithfully promised to listen and pay attention to the rest of the classes she would deliver.

I am sure, with hindsight, she realises that it wasn’t a great idea and could never really end well.   If I recall though, she was quite new to teaching and keen to impress.   I think that was her biggest downfall.   Taking advantage of her willingness to go the extra mile, we persuaded her to allow us to dress the room up for the event…including the table that would ultimately be used for the demonstration…..of nothing according to her.

So the windows were duly blacked out, various halloween type ornaments adorned the doors/windows and hung off every available surface and, crucially, a large black curtain covered the table with stars and moons crudely marked upon it.   The Ouija board was duly placed on top and I made sure that the object to be used for “channelling the spirits” was predominantly metal.     At lunch, I snuck in to the room and placed a seriously powerful magnet under the table that I stole from the Science department.   A quick test revealed that I could move the object around with relative ease and almost no noise from under the table.   10 minutes later with an incredibly dull light and some chalk, I had pretty successfully recreated the Ouija board on the underneath of the table.

The plan was hatched and was easy to carry out….I stayed under the table where I couldn’t be seen and when the teacher called out my name…one of my friends responded for me.   The room was dark and eery, so noone was really sure anyway.

Then came the time of the Ouija board….a few people put their hands on the object and I let them do all the build up and everything…and did nothing.   So they tried again…nothing.   I think I let them try a few times and as soon as the teacher started to talk about how she was right etc, I chose that moment to move the object.   I couldn’t have planned it better though, I had waited until noone had their hands on it.

After the screaming subsided (mainly the girls and the teacher, but a couple of lads too), some of my mates started asking questions about who the ghost was etc..   I duly answered, very slowly of course.

Everyone freaked out and in the ensuing panic, when the teacher was turning the lights on and tearing down the window blackout stuff…..and most of the class were legging it outside…I calmly removed the magnet and ran out with the rest of the class.

I honestly don’t know if the teacher got in trouble for it, certainly she was still teaching long after I left.   I also can’t be sure how many people were scarred for life by the experience.   All I know is that my mates and I had a bloody great laugh, got out of a seriously boring lesson early and scared the bejesus out of loads of or classmates.

Good times.   Irresponsible and mentally disturbing times….but good nevertheless.

What nefarious schemes have you lot cooked up?

Airsoft? SOFT?!?!?!

I was sorting my photos out on the PC the other night, when I stumbled across these 2:

They reminded me of many moons ago, when I was into Paintball in a big way.   The pictures you see were from Airsoft, a different kind of game, but more of that later.

I played paintball regularly and had a great time….sometimes painful….but always great.   I do remember the first time I ever went though.   I was going with a group of regulars that had finally persuaded me to go, when one of the lads dropped out.   This meant I was able to save the ?20 equipment hire and spend more on paint and gas cannisters.   Back then the guns were pistol type affairs with individual gas cannisters that you changed and could hold a tube of 10 paint pellets.   I think they called them Splat guns, much better than the bent scaffolding tubes with a toilet cistern on top.   Anyhoo, enough with the older is better malarky….

So I borrow my friends camouflage gear and facemask.   I didn’t really see any issue in borrowing a mask from a regular…who played in a team…whos team were recognisable by the way their facemask was painted…..no issue at all.

So after I donned my equipment, and went to the instruction area to get…well instruction really, I noticed that a number of people were looking in my general direction and motioning toward me.   I thought nothing of it until I realised that everyone was basically going to take me out first, firmly believing that I was a team member of a very successful team.   Damnit.

My lasting memory of my first ever paintball excursion though, was being chased through the woods, paint pellets whizzing past my ears and spotting an overturned tressle table.   I dived over the table to get to cover, only to land…knee first…onto a rock that nature had chosen to hone into a knee destroying pyramid affair.   The reason that this is so memorable is my reaction.   Instead of screaming (like I was in my head) in pain, I was more focussed on changing the gas cannister and reloading the paint.   Paint!   ffs, you would have thought I was pinned down under heavy fire in ‘nam or something.   I am an idiot.

So, back to the photographs.   No, they aren’t from some sort of terrorist training camp and that is not Colonel Gadaffi on the right.   On the left we have my good self, attempting a menacing look but failing whilst looking at Lee, hidden under a mountain of camo gear and full face mask.   On the right, we have Ross and this was the day I went to Airsoft for the first time.

Now Airsoft (or Softair as it is occasionally known), differs from paintball in a number of ways, firstly – there is no paint, secondly – the guns are replicas of real weapons and thirdly – the name is a LIE.   Whilst paintball is basically shooting balls of paint at each other, airsoft is most definately not shooting soft air at one another.   What you are shooting in air soft are 6mm 0.20g plastic pellets.   You also shoot these in rapid succession as your average airsoft rifle will hold 250 of these things in a single magazine.   A high capacity magazine will hold 500+.

In short, pain.

Imagine the joy of my teammate, when, in a pressure situation I didn’t recognise him…and proceeded to shoot about 200 of these things at the top of his head.   Another joyous moment came when myself and another guy were making our way over to two guys that had reached cover.   They were refusing to admit that we had hit them, which made us apretty annoyed to tell the truth.   So we decided to get closer.   I must explain at this point that their is a rule that says that if you get too close to someone, they will surrender and you shouldn’t open fire.   We definitely got the drop on these two guys, and in fact were the other side of their cover.   So we jump up and start screaming for them to surrender, which makes them panic and the guy holding a shotgun shit himself and pulled the trigger.   Right into the face of my mate…who had chosen that game to go with shooting goggles instead of a full face mask.   I saw the three holes in his cheek start oozing with blood and we both opened fire on this guy.

My fave moment from this day out though, has to be “Defend the base”. The “base” in this sense was a garden shed.   The rules were simple, team A would attack the shed and team B would defend it.   The game was over if all of team A were “dead” or if team A managed to get inside the “base”.   We defended first.

It was decided that I would have the dubious pleasure of being the last line of defence…I would be “In the Shed”.   Lee decided, in a show of solidarity I guess, to put himself on top of the shed…and build what can only be described as a nest up there.   The shed opened away from the attackers and the door was open.   I spent most of my time watching my defense standing up and yelling “hit” and walking away.   It started to get quite lonely in there.   I then noticed a small hole had been cut out of the wall facing the attackers, so decided to poke the barrel through and take some pot shots.   This basically served to highlight where Lee was hiding, and shortly afterwards he was climbing off the roof.

I could see that I was rapidly running out of teammates, and decided to stop wasting ammunition, when I heard a small thud above me.   I look at the hole in the wall, and see a BB grenade teetering and almost entering the shed….WITH ME IN IT!!.   These things contain around 500 pellets and explode with quite a bit of force.   Fortunately for me (and my underpants) the BB grenade fell on the outside of the shed just as it exploded.   It did not, however, place me in a calm state of being.   The shout went up from the marshalls that there was a minute to go.   After they then shouted “30 seconds!” I heard them…the unmistakeable sound of someone charging towards me in my garden shed of fear and doom.   The guy slipped and fell down just in front of the open door….as he was falling, I unloaded a full 500 pellets into his chest.   I seem to recall it took him around 5 minutes to get up again…we had won!

So then it was our turn to attack and lets just say that we started pretty badly.   By the time we had even advanced a short distance…we were already pinned down.   It did not look good.   We countered these tactical bastards by singing…always look on the bright side of life…if I recall.   All of a sudden, Lee decides that he can take some of them out and allow us to move forward, he will run from tree to tree and we will lay down covering fire to allow this to happen.   Good plan.   Lee prepares himself and then runs full tilt at the first tree, skids to a halt and recovers himself.   We lay down suppressing fire and he charges to the next tree…only he actually charges AT the next tree and basically runs full steam into it.   After he picked himself up off the ground, he realised that he had left his guns at the first tree.

At this point it was over for us…none of us could see the opposition because of the tears streaming down our faces.   Still thinking it was a good idea, he now sprints back to the first tree and slams into that one too.

That lad is an accidental comedic god.

So to finish this ramble, we head back to Ross (he of the Colonel Gadaffi pic above).   He has the dubious pleasure of appearing in this blog due to his very own moment of accidental comedic genius.  

Now, I have mentioned that Airsoft guns are essentially replicas of real guns and they look pretty damned realistic….especially to the untrained eye.   Say for example…the untrained eye of a neighbour.  

So Ross and friends are cleaning their various airsoft guns and decide to pose for some photographs.   To do this, they get dressed in all their gear and head into the garden.   Around 20 minutes later it happened.   The back gate was kicked down, the front door smashed open, SO19 (Britains SWAT) swarmed the place.   Ross told me that they were screaming for him to drop the weapon and he froze completely, he couldn’t speak…he certainly couldn’t put the weapon down.  

It was soon put down as a misunderstanding, it would appear that a neighbour had looked out of their bedroom window and saw terrorists in camo gear with a crapload of weapons in the garden.   I think I would have called the police too tbh…. I may call them now :-)

Argue much?

Calm down, calm downIs it bad when your boss starts sending emails that end with things like “Ask them to change it, but try and be nice”?

Sure, I can argue and I can do it pretty well.   At work I can get quite aggressive, which is in direct contrast to what a soft cuddly teddy bear I am outside of work…no honestly.

But my boss has recently started adding lines much like that one to emails…and more recently in direct conversation.   I wouldn’t mind, but he regularly drags me into meetings I have neither the desire nor inclination to attend, specifically so that he can utilise me as some form of verbal weapon in the war against more work heading to our section.

Initially I thought it was as a result of my general knowledge and skills, however, I now realise it is simply because I am an opinionated and obstinate bastard.   Not that I am complaining, it is nice to have members of senior management in fear of me.

My rants are fairly well known in the office and I think that most people just humour me until I inevitably fall back from the ceiling.

The thing is, generally I am not argumentative outside of work.   I can have debates or disagreements, but rarely do I get as vein bulgingly irate as I do at work.   I am not sure why this is, maybe the fear of personal injury is somewhat enhanced outside of work.

I have a philosophy, based entirely on my opinion of myself as reasonably intelligent (read: Not stupid), which centers around the fact that I am right…until you prove me wrong.   I am willing to be proven wrong (sometimes) and in fact openly tell people that if they want to beat me in an argument they just have to be able to backup their facts.   I will then admit defeat and add the knowledge to the future argument munitions dump.

I like winning arguments.   I win a lot of arguments.   I especially like winning unwinnable arguments.   Back in my college days, we had a class entitled “Communications”.   Quite a vague name for a class, but I enjoyed it.   Basically, I discovered really early on that I could start an argument amongst the class, sit back and wait for the lesson to end.   It was here that I found my joy at going for unwinnable arguments.   I am not sure how or why, but some of the guys in the class were talking about cars, one of the guys mentioned how getting anything and driving it above 60mph was pointless due to fuel consumption.   I argued that you may use more fuel, but you get there quicker, so it all evens out.

To qualify the statement, I entered into the ridiculous.   I posited that if a car (for arguments sake) travels 100 miles at 50mph arrives in 2 hours and uses half a tank of fuel, the same car travelling at 100mph will use twice the fuel but arrive in half the time,  therefore still only using half a tank of fuel.

It is quite possibly my most favourite argument as it is utter, utter bollocks.

I won, and had 25 other classmates convinced that it was true.

In the same class I argued that the British Armed Forces should pay Poll Tax (The old Council Tax) when away on Aircraft Carriers.   My statement was centered around the fact that another country stepping foot on a British Aircraft Carrier without permission could constitute an act of war.   Therefore, a British Aircraft Carrier is considered to be British soil.   The same argument works for British Embassy buildings and their grounds.   The best part about that argument (which I won btw) is that I disagree with my own argument entirely.

I do this a lot, I argued recently with a Linux fan, from a stance where I really know very little about Linux.   I got the guy so flustered that he couldn’t argue his point.

I could be a politician, but I enjoy telling the truth too much….to tell the truth

In true form, I have no idea where this is heading so let me try and drag it to a succinct and informative close

I am an obstinate bastard

Nuff said

I must stop coughing, it's making me smoke!

My name is Dave, and I am a nicotineoholic.   It has been 5 minutes since my last cigarette and it is difficult.

Ok, so it isn’t quite that bad, yet, but I have my moments.   Anyone that has smoked will more than likely know that when you drink alcohol, you smoke more.   Oh, and when I say “Anyone” that excludes occasional smokers….I don’t know how you do it, well those of you that inhale anyway.

So most smokers will have, on occasion, woken up to the feeling that someone has parked a small articulated lorry on their chest.   We resolve this by “kickstarting the lungs” with a cigarette.     Genius eh?   Normally intelligent folks performing random acts of moronity.

Now, before you shun me as the social outcast you now know me to be…I understand my problem.   Yes cigarettes are addictive, but that isn’t it.   They also do have some side benefits.   They are an appetite Sch??ner rauchen
suppressant, trust me, if they weren’t I would probably be indistinguishable from any other large building that waddles down your street.

You see, I gave up smoking for almost 5 years, unfortunately when I started the process I was quite slim.   Fast forward to when I started smoking again and I am roughly the size of an up and coming sumo star.   Face it, I had to start again before I ballooned further.   It was self preservation really.   Stop the weight gain or have to be removed from my house by a crane.

Just recently though, Germany adopted the smoking ban…and currently it is not an issue.   The weather is fantastic and the beer garden is king.   However, all of the non-smokers,   previously more happy than vegetarians when the BSE scandal hit the UK, are now following us smokers outside for the fresh air and sunshine.   The issue, smokers are now upsetting non-smokers outside too.   I actually read a rant from a smoker actually complaining about all of the people smoking outside.   WE GAVE YOU THE BAR DAMMNIT!!

At least out here drinking outside is normal, and the bar staff take your order and deliver the beer to you.   In the UK it would kill me….quite literally with regards the extra strain placed upon my weak heart and lungs.   In a lot of pubs they don’t allow you to take your beer outside, and the chances of being served outside are even slimmer.

I was looking for an image to drop on here and discovered this:

Smokes info

Now I can’t deny any of this, and frankly I wouldn’t want to.   But the information that is always missing from this kind of information is that the extra years are the bad ones at the end…you know, the years in the nursing home covered in your own crap and not remembering your name without some sort of tag.   The doddering, frail, zimmerframe years.

I like the fact that the warning on cigarettes now takes up half the packet.   That will sort out that guy buying smokes that has been living under a rock for the last 20 years… Who is that for though, seriously?   Let’s face it, they could market cigarettes in a black packet with a picture of a skull and crossbones on and call them “Death Sticks” with the slogan “Guaranteed melanoma with every inhalation” and there would be a queue halfway down the street to buy them… Why?

Because smoking is cool…..

Cool or what?

Right?

Social Networking?

I don’t know why I haven’t written about this before, especially as it was such a big part of my life for a long time. Now, I have to warn you, some of this post will be deeply geeky. So to that end (and for our American friends):

Those of you with a “jock” disposition, should probably close down your browser……hang on, they wouldn’t be reading anyway, surely. *meh*

I used to run LAN parties many moons ago. I like to think that the emphasis was on party and that the LAN side of it was a means to an end. In fact, we probably had less stereo-typed geeks than most other LANs could lay claim to. For those of you that don’t know, a LAN party is essentially a get-together of people that like playing computer games against each other, people bring their computers to a central venue and spend a weekend shooting people. The main game at my LANs seemed to be centered around drinking as much as humanly possible.

Unfortunately, not many business want to give over a large venue with enough power for say 70 computers, so I moved around a number of different venues. One of which had an ornamental pond outside and was a no smoking building. The pond was on 3 levels like a set of steps, starting at the top with a huge pond, then one level lower that had a slightly smaller pond, ending at the bottom with a small pond. One guy gave us a moment of drunken comedic genius by falling into the top pond, where he panicked and scrambled out of it….. into the next pond down, where he panicked and scrambled out of it….. into the next pond down, where he panicked and scrambled out of it onto the grass. A lot of people took a very long time to recover from that. I managed to pull myself together for long enough to stop him heading into the room with all of the very expensive computers….

At the same LAN, a guy got so drunk that he started stripping down to his boxer shorts and mumbling incoherently. When he finally passed out, we very kindly….stacked beer cans and alcohol bottles around his inert form and balanced them on his head. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

At some point we decided to run a LAN in Blackpool which, up until this blog post, was known as the LAN that shall never be named. The main reason for this was that I was completely stitched up by the hotel owner. I visited him and was given assurances that he could meet the power requirements of some 60-70 computers and all associated paraphenalia. He also told me that, as it was out of season, we would have the entire hotel available. When I arrived, he was checking in a stag do, which meant I couldn’t have the entire downstairs…there weren’t enough tables and chairs so friends from the area had to scrounge them from other hotels, there was no parking that he said we could have and then to top it all off…..no power. He expected us to run everything from 2 or 3 plug sockets. In the end we had to string power extentions into the hotel next door. The stag do were a bunch of arseholes and none of the guys were happy leaving their equipment out. I basically spent the whole LAN trying to calm people down and not have to give them all their money back.

In the end we overcame the shite and had a great time. There was Evs destroying everyone in the UT competition. He was so good that I stopped monitoring the match to sit and watch this guy play. Couple that with the fact that he was just having a laugh and getting pissed, just made it all the more impressive. We also had operation car breakout. A military style operation where Preachys motor was extricated from its clamp hell with an angle grinder and about 20 fairly sizeable guys telling the clampers to fuck off.

After Blackpool, we headed back to our previous venue – Also known as the “Sex” LAN, which basically seemed to revolve around me fighting with the “caretaker” of the building when his power tripped and he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, and people being randomly “sexed”. For those of you not in the know, sexing involves taking a photograph of a sleeping member of the LAN, whilst having a photo of you gyrating your hips above their head. It was quite the sport across that one. This was also the LAN where Exo chose to drink almost every left over beer and glass of..whatever the hell was left. When we got him back to mine, he thought that Sarah was his missus and tried to get her in bed with him…fell over and cracked his head on a shelf. We checked he was ok, but he didn’t wake up for quite some time….mad Irish Goat pr0n loving bastard. This was the first LAN where we had a rare breed…the female gamer. Finally Lee decided to try his hand at topless modelling….oh and eyballing various alcoholic beverages. It was quite an eventful weekend that’s for sure.

Yes, that does look like we got Pierre Luigi Collina pissed and posing.   In fact, when we went to Anfield a load of lads took their photo with Lee as he could pass for PLC :-D

I also started running private LAN parties.   This started with the guys and gals from Loony Asylum.   If we thought that the WolfLAN mob were drunken party machines, these boys were pros.   If I were to post all of their exploits in party form it would take all month to read this post instead of just all day.   Let me bulletpoint some of my fave memories:

  1. Actually naming Man Love Central
  2. Shooting airsoft weaponry at each other…in the room
  3. Someone getting rammed on Jack Daniels and throwing up after losing control…but maintaining enough control to find a plastic bag
  4. Bringing an entire professional Karaoke setup
  5. Porn displayed on 30 PCs and also 15 feet high on the projector
  6. An asian lad being more offended at being called Jackie Chan by some dickhead.   Asking to at least be called Chow Yun Fat
  7. A few local lads kicking off in the venue thinking that Loony were a bunch of computer geeks.   The same lads being very surprised when 40 fairly un-geeky guys wandered downstairs in some sort of “The Warriors” stand-off
  8. Sharing so much porn across the network that it couldn’t actually handle it
  9. Conning a barman to leave the bar unattended for slightly too long…

There were many many more things, but my absolute fave has to be a lad called Geordie.

Now let me just explain, we had a venue above a pub in Edwinstowe.   It was run by Andy and Andy, a gay couple and a superb laugh.   You know how cats will always jump on the lap of the only person in a room that is allergic?   Well, Little Andy had much the same knack, only his particular talent was finding people that were slightly uncomfortable with homosexuality.   Well, Geordie fell into this category.   He wasn’t homophobic or anything like that, he was just a little uncomfortable.   So the drinks are flowing, the bar has been closed and has turned into a lock-in for the Loonys.   Little Andy decides to have some fun at Geordies expense, by flirting with him…you know, stroking his head, leaning a little too close when he was talking…all the classics.

Geordie, for his part, took it all in reasonable spirits.   That said, it was fair to say that he was drinking slightly faster than perhaps he would have normally done.   This ended up with him being comatosed in the bar.   The lads took it upon themselves to make him pay for this lapse of judgement and write on him, spray shaving foam etc etc.   One lad went a little far though, and got some Veet hair remover and sprayed it on his head.   Anyway, Little Andy finds him and decides to wake him up and help the poor guy.   So he took him to his shower, stripped him and showered him.     Being the kind and generous soul he is, he recorded the event for posterity.

I don’t think I have ever seen a man so completely broken as Geordie was the next day.

You know what, I think I may have to post more about WolfLAN at a later time….

Great times..

Nuts?

kingore kapow

So there is a school of thought that American guys are nuts….and possibly a little gullible. Now, I can only speak from experience and conclude that they are generally no more so than any other guys.

That said, there is a particular group that have been known to frequent my living room from time to time….that have been coming here for some time.

Let me explain a couple of things first. There is a gentleman who is a regular, he is an Irishman and we shall call him M.

Now M is a very nice guy, who has a reputation that generally precedes him. He is generally considered to be the type of person that you don’t fuck around with. It doesn’t detract from him being a good guy, but for the love of all things holy, do not get on his bad side. I can safely say that I am fortunate to be on his good side (at least until he reads this).

Now, he has a particular issue with the word “Awesome”, especially when used by American guys. This issue led to a statement of intent being issued. The statement was something along the lines of:

“If any of you Americans say awesome again…I will kick you in the nuts”.

Now M is a man of his word and suffice to say that the Americans he was with at the time learned this the hard way.

Fast forward to a week ago, one of the original group of American guys is heading back stateside and is out on his last night in Frankfurt. He is trying his damndest to get as many Americans as possible to tell M what an awesome time they are having in Frankfurt. Leading to a high number of guys folded up in agony, strewn around the area.

Now myself and M were chatting, when this guy comes up and gets in on the conversation. He was explaining the “game” as he called it. During the explanation he says “So I keep telling these guys to go up to M and say Awes…..omething like that 8-O ”

Now M decides that half saying something still meets the criteria and informs the guy that as he only half said it, he will only kick him in the left nut. Before the guy can move – whack- M kicks out. I distinctly remember the guy squeaking “that was the left one too” before hitting the floor.

Eventually he recovers and tells me the story of playing the “game” the week before. Apparently he persuaded some huge monster of a biker from Colorado to say the “A word”. So off the guy trots, with his equally big friend, and goes up to M…a guy he has never met, nor been introduced to before. He delivers the now immortal words “Hey man, I just wanna say what an awesome time we are having here”

*whack*

The guy keels over…”What the fuck was that for man?”. “You said the word” says M. “What word? Awesome?”

*whack*

And so it continued. The story goes that the guy said it a total of 5 times, getting whacked progressively harder each time. Eventually, a little nonplussed and certainly none too happy. Biker dude and his friend decide that enough is enough and start claiming how they will kick the crap out of M. M, being M, grabs hold of the guy and gets out his wallet.

“I will pay you 300 euros right now, so that we can go over there and I can thump you and yer mate”

It is at this point that the 2 guys realise that a single M has them outnumbered. I mean, lets face it, if you are a big guy (he was) and you have an equally big friend stood next to you (he did)…what are the odds that a single Irishman will threaten you, and offer to pay for your trouble…if that person couldn’t back it up?

It is fair to say that these guys beat a hasty retreat and have never returned, to the best of my knowledge. It’s a shame – they are definitely the sort of guys that you want around….the money making opportunities are enormous.

Now…if I can just find some more Americans and my steel toecapped boots………

Almost there…

To quote Billy Connolly….. Jesussufferingfuck

Everytime I look around the apartment and think.. “Just another hour or so”, I discover something else that has been bloody forgotten.

Still, it would appear that I have been blessed by <INSERT DIETY OF PREFERENCE HERE>, as my friends are pretty bloody amazing.     Let’s recap my last few days:

Friday:

  • Work as normal – Finish at 12:30 to visit Docs and then on to packing
  • 16:00 – Collect van (Eat ham roll)
  • 19:00 – Alan, Darryl and Michael appear – Load van with *almost* everything that is going to the UK
  • 21:00 – Van packed, we have a quick beer.
  • 22:00 – I get back into it
  • 00:00 – Go to bed

Saturday:

  • 06:30 – Wake up, more packing
  • 09:30 – Paul, Scott, Tim and Alan appear to move stuff to new apartment
  • 11:00 – Paul + Alan sort out dismantling of various furnitures that I didn’t have time to do
  • 15:00 – Me, Scott and Tim head to Angelas where we unload the van (for 2 days!!)
  • 17:00 – Drop off Van, I continue working
  • 18:00 – Simon lends me his car
  • 18:30 – More work, moving bits and bobs to new apartment
  • 23:00 – Make final trip of the night (including cats now) to new apartment (Eat crisps)
  • 00:00 – Bed

Sunday:

  • 08:00 – Wake up
  • 08:30 – Realise clocks have gone forward – It is actually 09:30
  • 08:35 09:35 –   Make coffee, phone Mel and Jamie (Eat Pringles)
  • 10:00 11:00 – Mel and Jamie arrive, we head to apartment
  • 10:20 11:20 – Begin working
  • 15:30 16:30 – Break for first half of Liverpool v Everton (Eat Pizza)
  • 16:45 17:45 – Head back and carry on – Alan arrives
  • 20:30 21:30 – Mel leaves, give Jamie lift home
  • 21:30 22:30 – Get to new apartment
  • 22:30 23:30 – Bed

And then I got up to be at work this morning :-(   – DAMN YOU DAYLIGHT SAVINGS

If you look back at that, thanks have to go to (in no particular order):

Alan, Scott, Tim, Mel, Jamie, Darryl, Michael, Paul and Simon

Without you guys….well, I am probably still trying to lift the first box.   I owe more beers than I can reasonably buy right now…

Things that happened :

  • I got fed up and started throwing stuff away that could have been sold (Sorry Sarah/Lesley)
  • Darry and Michael broke the lift on Friday night, fortunately it was repaired just before the washing machine move on the Saturday
  • I made a deliberate detour to bauhaus to get a new toilet seat, bought 3 other things and forgot the toilet seat
  • I arrived at Angelas to discover way more stuff of hers to be transported than I thought – I panic and start thinking about what else can be thrown away.   I then stop panicking and decide to rent another van at the end of April or May.
  • Paul, when asked to unplug my computer and keep all the cables together with their devices, puts cables and devices in separate bags.
  • External HDD2 and Scanner blow up when I inevitably plug the wrong power into each of them :cry:
  • This morning I couldn’t figure out how to get hot water out of my new apartment shower
  • Oh, and I just had a phonecall from Simon, I didn’t drop his car keys off, IDIOT

I am currently out on my feet and have more to do tonight.   Once again Jamie is coming to the rescue.

Best. Friends. Ever

She just canna tek it capn, we don't have the pooer

LAN party goodness - The left side ended up with no powerâ??A while ago I used to run LAN parties (I mentioned my general geekiness before right?), they started off with about 9 people taking over my house for the weekend, and ended up with some decent numbers and some excellent prize giveaways. It was fun, bloody hard work, but fun.

So anyway, we were running our 7th, LAN in an old building where power requirements were quite….tight shall we say.

We setup the LAN, everyone started arriving and setting up, the games had commenced and fun was being had by all. We even had Lindsay and her friend doing a cafe type thing in the Kitchen just off the main room.
I think it was the next morning where we experienced our first power outage. Bang, the whole room tripped out and we had essentially melted the main distribution board. We managed to limp back into life, but only with half of the LAN running. Now with tournaments to run, beers to be drunk and various other distractions, I didn’t need 50% of the attendees bored out of their minds.

We phoned around for a generator, a friend of a friend apparently had one that could power half the world if necessary. Unfortunately, the friend of a friend had decided to take his entirely family on holiday to have fun in the sun. Selfish Bastard.

With that down, another friend mentioned that he had a small generator that could probably power 5 or 6 PCs. We jumped at the chance, and the “smoking room”, quickly became the power core. It also became ridiculously loud and with a distinct smell of petrol. All was well, if you class well as having 5 PCs fading in and out like something out of Star Trek when some alien ship/being starts to drain the power.

In fear for their PCs, the attendees decided to switch off…probably a good call.

At this point, with stress levels at an all time high for me and Lee (more stories about Lee later), we were probably minutes away from people starting to leave…when this happened:

Scene Right: Entrance: Lindsay approaches stressed Lee and Dave across the room, she is carrying something.

Close up: Dave/Lee: They acknowledge Lindsay but do not see what is being carried – They appear distracted

Close up: Lindsay: (In a cheerful tone) “You will figure it out guys, here – Have a coffee”

Close up: Lindsays hands: Lindsay proffers not one but two cups, there appears to be a milky brown liquid inside and possibly smoke coming from them.

Pull back: All 3: Dave and Lee gratefully accept steaming hot coffee, each take a sip and place their cups on the table in front of them

Close up: Dave: “Thanks, I really need this”

Close up: Lee: “Me too, thanks Linds”

Close up: Dave: “How the hell are we going to do this?”

Close up: Lee: “No fucking idea mate, but we better think fast”

Pull back: All 3: Dave picks up coffee for another drink – Dave: “Nice coffee Linds, thanks again”

Close up: Lee: “Yeah, it’s good – Where did you get it from?”

I think you can all see where this fine script is heading…

Pull back: All 3: Lindsay: “From the kitchen, why? Do you want another one”

It was at this point that Lee and I made a mad dash to the kitchen to discover that it remained blissfully unaffected by the power issues we were having…Lee told me afterwards that commercial kitchens have to run off of their own, high capacity, ring main and distribution due to the requirements of some commercial kitchen appliances.

After beating him repeatedly about the head for not telling me that in the first place, we hastily looped some power through into the kitchen and the party was in full swing once more.

We. Are. Idiots

Don't panic!!!!

Ok, so after the break up I have been somewhat of a procrastinator – I haven’t quite packed as much as I had planned, nor have I started redecorating for the new tenant after I leave.

I have found time to blog recently, but seeing as I do that on my 2nd monitor whilst watching TV shows, that probably doesn’t count as an actual activity…

Now all of a sudden everything kicks off. I get a message from Sarah to tell me that they now have a house from Monday and to get my arse in gear, and get the stuff over to the UK. At the same time, I find a tenant to take over the lease when I leave.

Cool, thinks I, 6 weeks to get sorted – Nice one…not so, tenant lady needs to be in on the 1st of April

Holy.Fucking.Crapola

So, I now have 17 days to finish packing, decorate, deliver practically the full contents of a 3 bedroom house to the UK and move into my new apartment. Damn you procrastination, damn you to hell.

To say nothing of the fact that I have to work all day throughout the week, leaving all this work to my scheduled TV time :-?

Ahh well, back to The 4400 and Flight of the Conchords….

….Oh, as an aside – Just got this in my email

A â??Uniqueâ? blend, methinks

I have GOT to get me some of that :-D

I love Germany

I am a bit busy tonight, so just a quick one.

The genius of living in a foreign country, is the products…. Clearly the marketing people decided that this would not be shipped to any country where English is the native language.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you….

mmm salty goodnessâ??

If you click the picture, you may well notice that not only is this liquorice, it is SALT liquorice

mmm salty goodness

:lol: