What do I know?
I’ve just met Screamer at the coffee machine where he decided to have a chat.
He’s got a wedding ring. He has a picture of his wife on his desk.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
She would be wouldn’t she?
I am the fuckwit.
As Martin Fry from the fantastic ABC once said
If you judge a book by its cover
Then you judge the look by the lover
I hope you’ll soon recover
Me?
I go from one extreme to another
Later, LoserJack.
The world of plans……
Yeah, I’ve calmed down….a bit.
Yesterday I went to a meeting, one of the ones you get invited to but have no real idea of what it’s about. One of teams in The Sandmans mini-empire has recruited a screamer from one of the The Godfathers (that’s the Sandmans boss….and yep….. he is Italian….so this pseudonym seemed apt) other mini-empires. This bloke has been bought in to help us improve our planning of resource and budget. A right fucking bundle of fun he sounds. Why do I call him a screamer…well to say he’s slightly effeminate is like calling Elton John slightly gay or even slightly bald. Now I’m NOT homophobic, but when you’re a bloke you can tell the screaming queens immediately and in my mind this bloke makes Dale Winton look as hard as nails.
So this was Screamers idea (I kid you not)
We are not Operationally effective or efficient.
We are performing well.
But we are not performing at our Optimal Operational Performance Ceiling
We need a plan.
In fact we need several plans.
We need a Project Plan showing in depth details of projects we are committed to.
We need a High Level Project Plan containing only high level details of the same projects
We need a Support Plan
We need a Strategy Plan which lists the strategies of each team function
Which in turn feeds into a Budget Plan
Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
So do you….
Plans are good. Plans will save me. Plans will save you. We need more Plans.
I need a lie down.......
Later, GrocerPlan.
Miserable bastard……
The mysterious Pen fairy is now plaguing me at work. When I want a pen I go to the pen pot on my desk…and there’s fuck all there. Perhaps there’s a national pen shortage I’m not aware of and therefore people are hoarding them with a view to selling them on eBay at enormous profits.
Nope – its because some Swedish cunt of a referee cost my beloved
Livid…..
Murderous…..
Boiling....
Raging….
The decision was scandalous because Drogba was going for a 50-50 ball with the goalkeeper. Drogba got the ball first but he and the goalkeeper collided each collapsing under the combined momentum of their efforts to get the ball. Cue Anders Frisk Prick, running over to brandish a second yellow card at Drogba, despite the first one being dished out for another innocuous challenge. I’m sure the fact that opposing coach Frank “Grolly Gobber” Rijkaard paid the ref a little “hospitality” visit at half time had nothing to do with it. He’s a striker for fucks sake – it’s his job to challenge for the ball. In the English premiership both challenges would have been dealt with by a ticking off from the ref AT MOST! But in the world of Euro-Ballet-Pansy-Gay-Amateur Dramatics football the goalkeeper goes down in a similar vein to Willem Dafoe in Platoon. Blimey the only thing missing was Barbers Adagio for Strings being played over the PA in The Nou Camp stadium. The balance of the game was changed after that, and despite leading 1-0, we were battered by them as they took full advantage of the numerical imbalance of 11 versus 10. Inevitably they equalized, and just as inevitably they scored to lead 2-1 and for 25 minutes they rained in attack after attack. It’s a credit to The Mighty Blues that we kept the score at 2-1. And in the cold light of day it’s a good result, because we have the away goal, and a return leg at
Oh, and one last thing. Didier Drogba was very upset at the decision, understandably and for those who don’t know – he’s black. As he left the pitch he was subject to the usual Spanish Fuckwit Racist Bigot Shitnecks monkey chants. This despite the fact that 3 or 4
Black Holes........
My house has become a black hole for various objects. By this I mean that the very things I want to use are never there. They have disappeared. They have ceased to exist.
Pens:
I bring home pens from work. Yes, I know technically this is stealing, but we're talking a dozen or so Bic biros so for fucks sake get real. I then place some in the container by the phone in the living room and some in the "desk tidy" (thanks Betterware) in the study by the main PC. So how come when someone calls and I need to note down a number or message I can never find a pen! The lovely fully working Bic Biros have all been replaced by blunt pencils or dried up gel pens. Are Teenager and baby running a pen racket at school? Is GMD giving them away to friends and neighbours?
Batteries:
I buy batteries for things such as remote controls, toys, cameras etc. Sensibly I buy in bulk so as to assure the presence of spares when required at a vital TV Channel turning over moment. Yep, you've guessed it, when I need one they've all gone. Mysteriously no-one else in the house knows where they are. Why is this?
Brita Filtered Water:
I bought one of these because I am tight-fisted. I want filtered water, but not something that needs attaching to the plumbing of the house. I fill it up, leave it for two hours to chill the water nicely for subsequent pouring into a long glass, with a dash of lemon juice or some Blackcurrant squash (because all other squash is crap). But when I go to the fridge, all that is there is an empty, but very cold water container. Again, no-one seems to know why this has happened.
Remote Controls:
Nine in total – 3 downstairs for the TV, DVD and Cable plus 6 upstairs for the various TV, Cable and DVD bits of kit. So why is the one I need always missing? Why does no-one else in the house know anything about the whereabouts of the one I want?
Sweets, biscuits and chocolate:
I know there are copious amounts of these dotted around the house. I also know I buy some to munch at a quiet moment. Something like a nice Plain chocolate digestive, or a packet of wine gums….or a bar of Fruit and Nut. Yep, you’ve guessed it. They disappear into the black hole existing somewhere in the core of my house.
I’ve now got to the point where I hide pens and batteries, stash biscuits and sweets. I buy bottled mineral water because the kids don’t like it. I am turning into this miserly person who resents buying things that are consumed by others, leaving none for me? Is this normal?
Later, Grocerjack.
The Review…..
Past Mortem by Ben Elton
This is by my calculation Elton’s 9th novel and probably his best yet. I have followed Ben Elton’s career with interest since the 80’s because quite simply I am a big fan of his Motormouth comedy style. I loved his satire in the 80’s and his tirades against Thatch and her gang seemed to sum up the futility of my generations feelings about what was being dismantled around us – little things like the manufacturing industry, the mining industry, community spirit, whole communities and introducing s dividedness into Britain which exists to this very day – the huge gap between the Haves and Have-Nots. Over the years I have been to see him on stage several times and each time he has been superb and left me with tears running down my face. PC? A bit. Toilet Humour? Absolutely! One thing is for sure, he has settled into a softer middle aged with the inclusion of marriage and kids in his life, but as a comedian of my generation I expected this to occur to him, as it did to me and my loyalty remains undimmed.
Sure, he has written some musicals with Lloyd Webber, and wrote the scripts behind the Rod Stewart and Queen musicals, both of which were savaged by the critics but are still raking in full houses and loads of money to the theatres staging them. I never really understood the criticisms of these shows. Its as if the Theatre is the sole preserve of “new” stuff by Lloyd Webber, whereas quite frankly I’d much rather have a night out listening to songs that I know and love, and have played a big part in my life especially during the growing up years. I haven’t seen either show yet, so I will not comment on their respective merits or otherwise. This type of criticism just reinforces my bemusement at people my age who rave on about how good the “new” stuff is whilst denigrating the stuff they grew up with in some sad desperate measure of their desire to be “down with the kids”. These are same sort of knobbers who criticise The Manic Street Preachers or U2, whilst parading their faux indie-ness and street cred by wearing badges of The Fall or other dull arsed wannabee untalented musical whores like The Libertines – yeah very original them, that’s never been done before has it?
One thing that is lacking in the book is the usual level of wry humour expected from Elton and in this respect this is a step up for him, although personally I hope he does keep the humour going in future books. Being able to make people laugh is a real and rare talent and one which he shouldn’t jettison too freely. All of his previous books have contained several laugh out loud moments, including some that have made me look like a right nutter in embarrassing places like trains or hotel restaurants. It is also the most adult of his books so far by virtue of the first real attempt at writing sex scenes and the first time that sexuality is really covered in any of his books to date. As you would expect though Ben Elton does not write the scenes as the most romantic and rose tinted scenes ever, and gritty realism is a better description of how he writes them, and in this case openly describing the rather extreme acts (in my view) of …ahem….fisting and felching. The latter being a new one on me, and ….errrr…quite an eye opener as well!
Later , GrocerJack
The Politics of Girl Guiding and The Brownies
The cast of the Brownies trip to
GMD – you know who this is
Fletcher Christian – The Kings Wife, GMD’s friend and the overall organiser of the trip.
TMW – The Majors Wife, GMD’s friend and another confirmed Guider
BOU – Another guider but with barking mad tendencies and an adeptness for telling some might fine porkies
Captain Bligh – The District Commissioner, old bag, born again virgin, part of the Mary Whitehouse brigade and freeloader extraordinaire
The Admiralty – the girl guiding hierarchy who have succeeded in pretty much preventing this movement form joining the rest of us in the 21st Century.
So GMD and Fletcher Christian disappear with TMW and BOU and other assorted women who are kind enough to give their time to run the Guides, Brownies and Rainbows. This trip has been planned for 128 months because if nothing else Fletcher Christian knows how to plan such events meticulously because frankly taking 36 kids of varying ages from 9 to 14 is such a taxing thought that only near military precision can make it work successfully. Plus to be actually allowed to do this the Guiders have to study and take exams that would frighten most of us away muttering “fuck that for a game of soldiers”, especially when the only gain is pride and satisfaction but NO money! . She even took the exam to be a lifeguard and to do that had to overcome a general fear of water.
The trip leaves from the Coach pick up point at 06:00 and by 15:00 I have received the “we’ve arrived safely” message and all seems to be going well. I received a few updates during the trip but to be frank they were only away for 2 nights and synchronizing calling times rarely works so conversations with GMD were infrequent at best. But it transpires that Captain Bligh was operating a “whispering” campaign throughout the weekend. Yes, the type of thing that has done for many a politician was happening here, on a Brownie trip!. The “smear” campaign being run by this pseudo Guide supremo was targeted at Fletcher Christian. It was just like Maggie Thatcher damning John Major or any of her successors with faint praise or generally just criticising them in general. In the end she did for all of her successors with some mistimed, misinterpreted or probably just deliberate comments on their abilities. Now, if this happened to me I’d be inclined to confront the person there and then, maybe clock ‘em if necessary with an unfortunate one, but then that’s what blokes tend to do. Violence is not always the answer, but fuck me sometimes it is exactly the answer. That’s how I stopped myself being bullied at 13 and having the fags I nicked from my mum nicked off me at school. I just smacked the geezer concerned and we ended up in a fight but that’s another story for another day. This is not meant to be sexist in any way but women do tend to be softer about this type of thing and consequently end up suffering more and so Fletcher Christian put on the brave face during this covert personal assault.
On the way home this seemed to be continuing and Captain Bligh was operating from the back of the coach even before they got to the Ferry. With any large group of course the more in the group the more chance of a mishap and so, as fate would have it. BOU’s daughter fell on the very last step on the ferry staircase that leads to where the coach was parked. She appeared to have sustained a broken arm and was obviously very shocked and upset, as was BOU. However if nothing else BOU is a competent guider and so knew not to panic. Her daughter was taken to the nearest A&E unit and Fletcher Christian dispatched The King to drive to the hospital thus ensuring that BOU and casualty could get home that evening. BOU’s husband is a sea-farer and is currently in the middle of some god forsaken part of the world waking up every day and looking out of the window and thinking “Yup, that’d be the sea then”.
Of course this incident was a godsend to the poisoned tongue of Captain Bligh who elevated the smear and whispering campaign up a notch to make it plain that she was not happy with the turn of events and the way they were dealt with. All of this served to undermine what Fletcher Christian had done in organising the trip, and to bring her down and perhaps question her own handling of everything. Classic bully tactics - make the person feel bad about themselves and you’ve won the battle. Despite the best will in the world Fletcher Christian then rang Captain Bligh after the trip and actually confronted her about the whispering and smearing. Did Captain Bligh back down? No, from what I gather she went back at Fletcher Christian even harder. GMD spent a good hour or so on the phone trying to support Fletcher Christian and devise a strategy going ahead. At this time it seemed that Fletcher Christian had the support of TMW, GMD, The Lone Rangers Wife and the rest of the volunteers, although oddly BOU was keeping right out of everything. The next day Fletcher Christian then rang GMD and said that the Admiralty had called her and had asked her to hand in her warrant card. Bloody hell, this was serious and immediately GMD was on the phone to the local Admiralty explaining what had really occurred. Since then all I’ve heard is that whispers are continuing and that cliques are building. Another phone call from Fletcher Christian to Captain Bligh resulted in Blighs own daughter matter of factly saying that Bligh was not in and that even if she was she would not enter into any dialogue with Fletcher Christian anyway.
Does this end up nicely? Did the full crew mutiny and join Fletcher Christian? I had hoped it would, and that mass resignation would bring about the downfall of the Hierarchy at the Admiralty when no-one was able to run the brownie and guide packs for the surrounding area. Of course the real victims would be the girls who attend each week and actually gain valuable life skills instead of hanging around the local shop, listening to rap, smoking fags with spotty twats whose ambition is to be part of a boy band or get a good steady job in MacDonald’s
Watch this space.
