Shut up ya girl

I know, I know..... look, it'll be worth while, trust me I know doctors, dentists and architects.

Day one in the house (using authentic northern accent).

Ok, I probably need to start at the beginning, remember my knackered hip? the one they were going to fix then decided they hadn't raped my insurance company enough so cancelled it and ran some unnecessarily expensive tests involving a myriad of specialists all eager for a slice of the Xmas bonus cake? Well, I now have a new date for the Op. It's February 18th. Hurrah? Hmmm.

Except I hate February. It's just not my month..... people die, wives run off and I become significantly older. February has no place on this earth, it's simply there to prolong winter and keep evenings dark, and don't let the 28 day thing fool ya, each day has 26 hours in it to make up for the short fall......... Hateful.

So after all the tests it seems my blood pressure is far too high for an operation (195/110 yesterday), so it needs to come down. As there were 5 weeks to the Operation the Doc seemed quite confident it could be done with nothing more than a hand full of potent chemicals.

I guess all was going sort of OK. but then work decided everything was going far too smoothly and lobbed a spanner in the works, the spanner was in the shape of several idiots each attempting to stamp their authority on things they know nothing about...... Under normal circumstances, this could be considered, well, normal circumstances for this company. Unfortunately for me it has the effect of keeping my BP higher than a perfect darts score.

So, as each visit to the Doc revealed my BP was getting higher and not lower it was decided I should not return to work before the Op.......

That means I've had to tell work I cant be involved in their Fantasy Remedy League any longer. Which of course gives them the "Golden Scapegoat" card they'll need when reality kicks in and their mothers call them in for Tea. "It was that fat lad wot done it, not us" wil lbe rining out from boardrooms as I write.

So there you have it. I have to cry off work like a girl so I can eventually walk around like everyone else on the street without looking like I've shat myself.

127/72 pulse 67 at 11am. Something seems to be working!

My Manager does bird impressions, at times you'd swear there was a Tit in the room with you.

Without getting into too much detail, I'm shit at my job... Official.

It's no longer good enough to work in three technical teams, cover two Out OF Hour slots and help implement an entire new way of working that will effect every worker, manager, engineer and customer within the department.

What REALLY counts is the ability to hide in dark corners and not get involved in ANY issues........ oh, and not to tell ya boss that he has the managerial expertise of Bert & Ernie and couldn't find his own arse with both hands.

I'm now on a "Redundancy" list. Heavens forbid if there's a world wide recession and they decide to get rid of a percentage of the staff here.

Of course that would only happen if there was some kind of Credit crisis that escalated causing the stock markets to panic creating a free fall in shares with billions of $'s being wiped off the value of major firms worldwide.......

Not much chance of that happening then........

Bert & Ernie, with help from Mr Snuffalufagus are the brains of this outfit

and so it begins....

So there I am, Friday evening in Tesco's with my Em doing the weekend shopping when Em turns around and states with glee....

"Daddy, Mammy's getting married in September......"

"Errrm, Oh thats fantastic news....... pass me a tin of those mushy peas....... second shelf down, not the bashed one, one from the back, thanks"

My immediate response was not to rain on Em's parade. If Sue is getting married then I assume Em would be one of several bridesmaids and just how exciting could that be for a little girl!

Of course while I'm saying "Oh, thats fantastic" I've already processed several hundred possible scenarios as to how bad this could be for Em and me...... I finally stick with the one most probably (in my mind anyhow).... and it goes something like this...

They marry, move away. Em has to change school, new friends, turmoil, upheaval, resentment. He gets custody of his kid who will now live with them and Emily becomes the second class citizen that causes trouble while his kid can do no wrong and I end up doing time for GBH.

By the time I've placed the mushy peas in the basket things have changed, I know what it's like to be around Sue for an extended period..... all I can do is chuckle to myself. Oh boy, I feel as if I should be making myself comfy with a big bucket of popcorn in anticipation of the events that will undoubtedly unfold.

Ok, enough of that. It's never as bad as it seems at first, and the fact is.... it's not bad at all.

Sue has no plans of moving away just yet, maybe that'll change when her husband decides what is best for his new family, who knows. All I can do is make sure Em has a fantastic time at the wedding and a clear and uninterrupted line of communication to me whenever she needs it.

I did have a long discussion with Sue on this very subject. She's confident that nothing will change, and I'm fairly confident she believes that. I just wish Em didn't have to be involved in the things that will come.

".....recording new tracks for the EP"

Can you get your people to talk to my people darling? I shall be "in session" recording the new EP, hmmm, hmmm, hmmmmmmmmmm.

So, it's all set. Finally we get to etch our acoustic vibrations onto the waxy cylinder Thomas Eddison raved about in 1066 just before he fell on an arrow. Please, not all at once!....... you'll get a chance to listen or even BUY this EP at some point as we know a clever man who can transfer an Eddison Cylinder into 0's and 1's and make it appear on a tellyputer in EmpeeIII

This isn't the first time I've had the pleasure of being directly involved in producing some form of music, in 1999 and 2000 I funded, arranged, directed, shouted, shoved, fed and watered Goober to produce a couple of "cottage industry" CD's that actually made enough lolly to.... well.... buy a few lollies actually. My Mate Pete was also in attendance and provided light entertainment and an assortment of sandwiches all washed down with lashing of ginger beer. Hurrah!

In fact, below is a vid I did from the "footage" I took while in the studio recording some "Goober". The track is "Brother" by Goober, inspired by a Friday night out in Easington Colliery and how some people change over time while others remain in a teenagers mind set..... or it could be about the demise of light engineering in the late 19th century.

The dancing fool in the Sunderland away shirt, small nose - me

Baldy bloke. big nose - Goober

Baldy skinny bloke, big nose - Keith

Baldy bloke with glasses, normal nose - My Mate Pete

Full head of hair bloke, big nose - Simon

Man on the flight deck, big nose - Jez

Baldy bloke on Goobers T-shirt with normal nose - Miles Hunt

Ted Rogers - himself

it didnt look like this....

Norovirus.

This is the little bastard that had me lobbing my guts up on New Years Eve and all New Years day. It's better known as the "Winter vomiting disease".... apparently affects over a million people in the Uk every year.

Some professor dragged up by the BBC suggests that suffers should drink plenty of fluids and stay away from work for 48 hours.

Personally, having gone through this my suggestion would be this......

......have a bathroom very close to your proxcimity and in a configuration which would allow the wash hand bason and toilet pan to be no more and 2 feet apart.

......when you do return to work ensure you make the coffee and tea for all your fellow management types.

Oh... nearly forgot, dont even think about passing wind for at least 3 days, it will catch me you out.