Sirloin steak.....right on the bone.

Didnt really fancy coming back here. After loosing Addie I had to think about stuff I've never been comfortable with, its nothing anyone can help with, its just stuff that's within all of us but unique to each.... probably.

So, what's the big news? Well, I like to start with the good news first, as there's nothing quite like watching that elated happy-go-lucky smile fade to abject misery right in front of my eyes. (little house on the prairie, girl in gingham dress skipping down slope (the good news)...... suddenly, an Indian scalping party appears at the top of the hill behind and come running and screaming after her - (the bad news))

Good News:

1. My boss has been told to sling his hook. Of course, being a large blue-chip top 500 company it wasn't quite conveyed like that to his minions. It was something like this, ahem.......

"......blah...blah..... bluesky thinking......blah blah..... robust deliverables......Re-aligning GW's skill set to better leverage his potential in new emerging and exciting technologies".... blah blah...repurpose back-end architectures...... blah blah.....strategize one-to-one bandwidth....... blah blah....synergize extensible e-commerce"


in other words he was a kak handed gobshite who couldn't tell the difference between his own arse and an elbow. He single handedly reduced our customer base by a 1/3rd, cost thousands of pounds to the business by renaming the department from something that was self explanatory to something that required a degree in horse-shite to decipher. I wont linger on his social skills, but this fella could make Jade Goodie look like Mother Teresa..... there's more business intelligence in a tramps vest.... and we still have no idea "what he was for"

2. I'm looking for a place to buy.

3. Goober is now 40

Bad news:

I'm now a cripple. I cant walk, I've been screaming like a girl most of the week. My hip has thrown in the towel..... big time. There is NO position I can put my leg where there is NO pain. It's constant and I'm sick of it. I've had to find new and inventive ways of wearing socks. I now have to use a calculator and a set-square to help plan my next bowel movements. You have no idea how stupid you look shouting at your own leg in the middle of a shop when it decides it would be "clever" to ignore the heroic dose of painkillers you've been feeding it.

Anyhow, I've had the consultation with Sweeney Tod (do all Orthopaedic Surgeons have fixations on anything sharp and shiny?) and he is waiting on my MRI results.... which bizarrely I have on my PC right now. So, I should have an answer on which flavour of plastic hip I'll need and when he can slice open my upper thigh and play with his new Black&Decker hammer drill and Meccano No.6 kit to my old bones.

This is an MRI scan of my left hip...apparently. It looks more like Tesco's Meat counter to me.

no title required.....

She keeps a distance, but she’s always there, watching, waiting, but most of all anticipating for the time when I return. She knows. We share a bond, and have done for over 16 years, she’s seen a wife and several loves both come and go and not once cast a judgement. Even tho at times I’ve taken her for granted, left for what must seem years at a time, yet she still greeted me with affection and love.

Her very name means “love and understanding”, something I first discovered in the lyrics and music of Stuart Adamson. In recent years she has become an educator to my daughter, teaching her the subtle qualities of care and responsibility, something that is sadly missing from a host of people around us who think they know what “love” means and is shown in their reactions to our situation.

At the moment she is fighting for her life, and the small group which I call “my family” are in limbo…… She is dying, there is no question of that, and with her passing I too will experience another part of “who I am” slip away.

I can only offer her comfort, she will go as she came, cradled in my arms.

My little girlie, my DC, my AddieCat.

Ssssshhhhhh, can you hear the voices?

Ok, I don't usually go for these online personality test things, they are only there to sell you a diagnosis of some major character flaw and before you know it you're a gibbering wreck, living under a bridge and £2000 lighter.

But, this one came from Kat, someone who seems to be sane, upstanding and without character flaws (ok, so believing you have a pair of haunted nutcrackers may not pass scrutineering by a professional on a leather chair, it's still harmless.... at the moment, so it doesn't count), so I thought I'd give it a go.....

These are my results..... if you know me, then feel free to comment. If you're a professional shrink and think you can help, then you can find me in the 3rd cardboard box under Staines bridge

Setback after setback has resulted in considerable stress and now you have got to the stage where you are continuously on your guard, not only to protect yourself from others but to protect yourself from yourself.

It would seem that many of your unfulfilled hopes and dreams have led to uncertainty and suspicion. You no longer wish to answer to others and you are insisting on freedom of thought.

You are seeking ways to protect yourself from further loss of prestige and against further setbacks. You have become very dependent and you doubt that matters could possibly get any better in the immediate future and this negative attitude is leading you to exaggerate your claims and to refuse reasonable compromise.

You are probably English, northern, fat and most likely bald as a coot.

The good news is that you are not paranoid, everyone really does think you're a tit.

If you want to have a go, then go here...... remember to paste your results back here. We can then compare and see who is most likely to knit themselves a suit from the skin of their dead victims.

1973 - burn baby burn (....cos it's all 100% Nylon)

I've got a serious case of "cant-be-arsed" going on. I have NO interest in anything I'm doing, and Christmas is nothing more than a reminder that everything I've previously done was wrong.

Anyhow, some months ago I came across an old UK home shopping catalogue from 1973... In '73 I was 6..... and more importantly Sunderland AFC won the FA cup..... which has nothing to do with this post, so I'll carry on.

This catalogue is fantastic, it's a snapshot of almost anything that you could purchase, and an awful lot of stuff that you shouldn't.

From highly flammable 100% Terilene/Nylon sleepwear to Fibreglass curtains and more Crimpolene than you can shake a steam iron at.

After the initial shock at the non-biodegradable materials used you start to notice the colours. WOW, I can only imagine before 1973 all clothes/carpets were either black & white or just brown. The words "busy" and "why" are constant companions on each turn of the page.

So here's a few I've "cut out"......

This poor unfortunate lass on the left here is typical of the clothes on offer.

I'm speechless.... I can only assume there's a dog's bed somewhere in London missing it's cover.

At some point, the manufacturer sat down with the designers and agreed this "garment" was marvelous and should be mass produced and sold for a premium...... just let that soak in for a while, no doubt these people have retired and are drawing huge pensions. Proof there is no justice in this word.

It's got flared sleeves for Christs sake! I think it could be a kind of contraception rather than clothing.

I'm welling up here, Oh the shame!

I guess by now you've seen the abomination which is the fella on the right. There's not one thing right about this. I've no idea where you'd wear this to, no, hold on..... apparently there are clubs that cater for this kind of perversion, I think I leave this one here.

I think we need to move onto some of the flooring that was available. You need to prepare yourself first, I would suggest taking a seat.... one with a belt would be good as I think you'll need to hang on as you may become nauseated and a little confused.

here we go....

and again.....

I feel for the cat on that last one, you can see its terrified! it darent move! I can understand buying one of these carpets if you're incontinent or need to cover up a crime scene, apart from that I'm baffled.

and to round off, here's a few that require no comment at all.

Stuffed and remembered

A video of all the stills I took while on tour with The Wonder Stuff.....

Music by Miles Hunt "These Things Remembered" Demo, used with kind permission

If you like what you've heard then why not buy the album

Ganin' yairm t'tek sum pictures liek

It was a Saturday, no Em to entertain and the weather not conducive to silly lean angles so I decided to drive 300 miles to where I grew up and take some pictures. So here are a few from the small town where I grew up.....

Easington Colliery, Co Durham, UK....

This site was originally occupied by the Easington Colliery Coal Mine, when the profits were too small for the black suited boys they closed the pit. Now all that stands there is this monument to over 100 years of coal mining. It is in fact the cage used to carry the men (and equipment) up and down the south shaft... Including my father, brother and countless other relatives and friends.

The North East Coast.... From Hartlepool to Seaton Carew.

The Cage - looking south east

Seaton Carew - Beachcomber

a Beach Txt'er

Sunset @ dawn

I see no ships

Coughing horses and see-though students.

I'm on a training course (its a BMC Remedy course if ya must know and I'm on Day 8 of 10).....

So I have to be quick as I only have a few minutes between modules and Lab exercises (nothing to do with Labradors, no court orders were breached!) but the keyboard is SO loud that people are looking at me and today I'm pretending to be translucent.... not totally invisible cos that's silly, but just enough to get me on the news... think The Abyss or Donnie Darko

Then there's the fella sitting next to me... He's our assigned COUGHING MONKEY. I know every course, seminar, meeting, cinema, animal research lab and doctors surgery has to have its complement of coughers, but the one we've been assigned is attempting to launch a slice of his infected lung across the room and onto the whiteboard..... This is not a gentle "ahem" politely placed into a tissue or perhaps an enclosed hand, but what seems at first to be the death rattle from a wild horse just off my right shoulder.

Anyhow, its almost lunch time.... not much to report there, I did ask if the manky looking "lunch" had been tested on ex-Soviet Spies but I don't think they got it.

For Jillian (my niece)....and my sister Susan.

It seems an explanation is required for a previous post.

So, to answer your question... no.... no I'm not in love with the ex wife Linda. I may be "in love" with that particular time in my life, but its a far cry from actually being in love with someone I haven't seen or heard from in the last 13 years.

It has been suggested that if Linda was to "reappear" I'd drop everything to be with her. Hmmmm, that's an interesting one. I'd like nothing better than to meet up with Linda, I think she's got a lot of explaining to do, some of which could end the remorse and guilt I know she should be suffering from. But if the suggestion is that I'd give up "who I am" and "what I've got" to be with at best a liar and worst an internally deceased emotionally barren purveyor of STD's then some people need to update their perceptions........

(wow I just read that back... for someone who says he doesn't care I'm sure putting a lot of emotion into it! Yikes)

Anyhow, what you need to understand is that "those" people no longer exist, there is no-one to fall in love with.

There are three things you should never return to, no matter what.

1. A dud firework
2. An ex girlfriend (this includes Ex Wives who "re-appear" with delusional expectations)
3. A wounded Ninja

I hope that puts an end to any confusion about the ex wife.

@rse over tit....

I could of fallen off the bike, oh yes.... tight left hander, magnesium knee sliders spraying a shower of sparks into the air as the lean angle allows me to almost touch the hot tarmac.... As I concentrate my attention into the far distance I don't notice the smallest of diesel spills which has exactly the same dimensions as the credit card sized contact patch my front Avon uses to hold over 300lbs of racing machine (and human) to the road surface.. Within a fraction of a second the bike has low-sided and I'm sent spinning across the road, across on-coming traffic and into a variety of road furniture............

It could of been like that.....

but it wasn't.

I actually fell UP the stairs at work. Arse over tit. Latte in one hand, bacon and sausage bap in the other. The first thing to touch mother earth was my right knee cap, it slammed into the metal edge cover and then had the best part of 17 stones of pure British lard jack-hammer it home.

Yes... it hurt. I swore a lot.... repeatedly. The pain was so intense I almost lost grip of my bacon and sausage bap (the latte was mostly a stain on the wall at this point).

The security guard (who is stationed right next to the stairs) immediately called for the Duty First Aider, smart move you may think, only, I am the duty first aider..... After I stopped screaming I switched off my First Aid pager and returned to my "screaming like a little girl" routine until a small crowd had gathered.

Luckily, there was no claret, if there had been the screaming from me would of stopped sharpish as I passed out (as a first aider I can handle other peoples blood, but not my own). I could feel my knee cap swelling by the second and I could feel the unmistakable signs of shock welling within.... cold, clammy, gray skin and a raised heartbeat. I took refuge on a nearby couch just as one of our other first aiders arrived (thanks Ann!)

It was quickly established I needed a visit to E&A pretty sharpish, there was no way I was gonna waste a busted knee cap on an ambulance so Chuckie volunteered to drive my car with Ann and myself to St. Peter's Hospital.

After lots of poking about, x-rays and a heroic dose of painkillers it was established that I hadn't broken anything and it was no more than a very nasty sprain/twisted knee and severe bruising.
In good old NHS fashion I was fitted with a tubular bandage and a shiny pair of crutches and told to naff off home for tea and sympathy.

and thats where I am now, "working from home", high as a kite on Tramadol (Hmmmmm, t-r-a-m-a-d-o-l) nursing a right knee cap the size of one arse cheek while watching daytime TV.

The killer stairs, tried to take me and my bacon & sausage bap OUT.... not forgetting my knee cap

I was never told what happened to my bacon and sausage bap. We went through a lot that day.

I'M BARRY SCOTT..... I SAID I'M BARRY SCOTT!

So I have a thing about cleaning.... I do take an unhealthy interest in cleaning products and can sometimes be found in the household cleaning isle at Tesco's gently caressing various bottles of detergent....... in a non sexual way you understand.

I still get thrown out by security, but only if they are new in the job, the regulars just move me along with a pointy stick

Anyhow, I don't expect you to understand, only me and Barry Scott know the real buzz a Universal De-greaser can give (again, it's nothing sexual...)

So, there's a new TV advert for Cillit Bang Lime & Grime..... but there's something wrong. I think Barry may be suffering from hearing loss. Why? well, just listen to this advert..... try not to swayed by Cillit Bang's amazing cleaning power, it's Barry's shouting that's in question.


You see! He just SHOUTS throughout the advert, and its not the first time I've noticed this. It's that poor lass standing right next to him I feel sorry for, she probably shat herself at the first take.

What is one to do?

So, I find myself with nothing better to do than blog.

It's never a good way to blog (for me anyhow). I know it will turn out to be rubbish, far too long and will stay on my site abusing my eyes for days.

That's why I could never be a professional writer. There are many things preventing me from doing this (list far too long to put here) but the biggest hurdle for me would be writing about stuff I'm not interested in, to a deadline and with a word count........ which pretty much puts a stop to that career.... but let me give you an example......

The ongoing battle for power with the Democrats and Republicans and recent mid term elections* as reported by our man on the street "The Man From Delmonti"

"Fat hairy knackers with the lot of them. Dull, corporate soul-les suckers of Satan's genitalia everyone of them. Don't vote because it only encourages them..... it's your democratic right after all"

See! I'd be pushing a shopping trolley and routing through bins within a week.

If you wanna know how writing should be done, by a REAL professional writer, then pop over to Kat's gaff and check it out.





*if any of this text is wrong, then blame my US of A work colleague (Mike) who gave me the technical info about US politics.

If there was a drug.....

The sun is low, there’s a slight frost. I stand at the window, it’s cold. Cold enough to warrant a sly smile, the kind that you know has come from a past memory.

I see me now, looking from my window, grey and alone. But it’s not what I see in my heart, I see me at age 23, looking from a different window onto a different scene but lit in exactly the same way.

My silent here-and-now world is in stark contrast to the one I’m re-living in my minds eye. There’s the empty but running Ford Escort that holds my attention, I started the engine, turned on the heaters then re-entered the house and took up my position at the window, watching the car as the windscreen defrosted….. and waiting for Linda before we drive into Durham.

I’m almost 40

and occasionally, I still find myself waiting for her.

The song in my head right now was written for me sometime ago
This is The Truth, written and performed by Goober

...

...

Jotter

Things to do this weekend....

1. Chubby Brown gig at Croydon
2. Photo session at Polesden Lacy
3. Propose new governmental regime after a civil war/coup I'm planning in the UK. I dont want to give the game away just yet as I'm still trying to figure out how to avoid UK Hate Laws especially the "Incitement to cause violence" bit. I feel a Civil War/Coup seldom works without some violence and a well managed leaflet drop
   
4. Clean the bathroom
5. Point and stare at passers-by from my window

It's gonna be a busy one...

The seed has been planted.....

My next big purchase* is gonna be an Apple Mac.

I'm done with Microsoft and Windows XP, it's just too fat and retarded. I spend far too much time, effort and money keeping it all together.....

MS have missed an opportunity with Vista and they are ignoring the home user. An operating system is supposed to help the user not be an obstacle.

It's time to move on.... but which Mac?

Don't want the Mini - its too small (expandability wise)

iMac - Don't need to buy another LCD display, and its not very expandable

Power Mac - It's expandable, I can use my own LCD...but I don't have £4k burning a hole in my pocket

*next big purchase. This is wishful thinking as I'm skint.

Comments

I've been told "It's why we blog". It's a kind of applause I guess.

Just having "hits" to your blog isn't enough really, you like to know that somewhere out there someone is thinking "I'll just take a look and see if there's anything new at whats-his-faces blog". Even better if they take the time to leave a comment (if you missed that, ITS A HINT TO LEAVE ME A COMMENT)

A few days ago I got "tagged" by another blogger. "Dr John" (who purports to be a man of the cloth) has some sort of game where he asks his blog readers to visit a blogger site and leave a message to gain "JC" points that could win you a prize.

Dr John does point out that its only for fun, the prizes certainly corroborate this, a "Saffron Bun" being one of the better prizes (that's what he says!... I dont even know what one is)..... even so, Dr John does have a large congregation and they've taken his advice and visited yours truly.

Admittedly, most of the visitors that have left a message are not interested in anything I have to say and deposit a message just to receive their "JC" points, absolutely nothing wrong with that. The main point is that they left a message, and that message was "you exist"

What I'd like you to do, in return, is visit Dr John and leave him a comment, just mention you've come from this blog.... a round of applause if you like (and no, there arnt any prizes, sorry)

Last second of the minute.....

...thats the time to begin it.

Available to download from most on-line vendors today
(there's a live version on there, with me as special "kit-setter-upper" guest*)









* probably

EDIT: I've just been informed that the "Miles and Dray" picture on the cover could very easily be in next months Viz..... in the column entitled "Up the Arse Corner".

Quote from Wikipedia about Viz... "There's also 'Up The Arse Corner', where photographs are submitted of people whose pose, and/or facial expression, could be misconstrued as being in the midst of an act of buggery."

Looking at it now even the title seems a little suspicious......

.......damn. It's all spoilt now.

What's he for?

No, I have no idea either Maude, its just bollocks isn’t it?. God only knows who the hell he thinks he is with all this dreadful drivel.

I mean, have you looked at some of this stuff? Is it supposed to mean anything? Is it supposed to be deep? trivial? shocking? It’s a load of gob-shite if you ask me.

It’s just post after post after post of whingeing….. He must think he’s the only one with problems. If its all that bad he should go and do something about it, and I don’t mean another ranting post…… at least we’d all be one car length up in traffic tomorrow.

Miserable git that he is. He’s not happy unless he’s bitching about someone or other. What he needs to do is take a long good look in the mirror….. that’s if he can find one big enough.

His first wife left him…… yes……. Had to move away, change her name…… had her eyes sucked out and replaced with hot toffee apples just in case she ever saw his twisted face again. Tragic it was…… made her “fear for her own safety”

Anyhow, I don’t think it can go on for much longer, I heard rumours that he’s not all there if you get my drift. They say personal hygiene is the first sign, once that’s gone there’s no stopping the out of control spiral into deep and dark depression. Couldn’t happen to a better person I say….. I SAID IT COULDN’T HAPPEN TO A BETTER PERSON.

MAUDE!..... do keep up dear.

5 Liverpools, 0 Failure

There's this fella I know..... His name is Philip Bimpson... He's gonna visit all the "Liverpools" the world has to offer in celebration of Liverpool (the original one in England) Cities 800th birthday in 2007.

Phil is many things, doctor, dentist and architect... probably, but recently he's been getting involved in the wider world of "media".... and this is his latest venture.

Good luck Phil, I'll be keeping an eye out for more of your updates.

Picture from the BBC's "The Experiment" where Phil and myself were prisoners for a week

I really have nothing useful to say...

If it looks like I'm doing something else, or I don't answer you when you expect, its probably because the implications of telling you to go take your pointless blabber somewhere else would cause difficulties I'm too lazy to fix.... so.....

As a guide, these are the things I'm simply not interested in...

You
Your boyfriend
Kent
Your new job
Your old job
How you're feeling

It's a broad list, but I think it covers most things you have to say. Basically, cutting out anything that involves you talking about yourself should reduce global greenhouse gasses by at least 20% ..... and possibly your ego by 90%.........


If only you came with a mute button