I arrive at my vehicle to find that the accursed flock of seagulls have, once again,
decorated it in their inimitable fashion. Splattered in concentric circles,
windscreen, bonnet and BOTH front doors.
The diuretic bastards with their
machine gun arses, achieving in moments what would take mere pigeons, hours. Mind you
the clue Is in 'flock', there's shed loads of them, all circling the street squawking
like banshees, no doubt taking arse aim at the merest hint of a green motor vehicle.
From heights of 30 feet and more they manange to splatterdash my beloved green machine whilst missing my neighbours car parked slap bang next to it! I'm taking this personally, very personally indeed.
I want to know where on earth has this urban plague developed from?We'd
come accustomed to the omnipresent filthy pigeons, they're a nuisance, but by and
large, small, quiet and unobstrusive. Smaller arses for one thing.
Not
seagulls! Have you seen them up close? They're bloody huge. They make a infernal
racket and, when they are swooping about above you, nothing is safe from the
aforementioned poop!except perhaps my neighbours vauxhall as mentioned.
I'd read a piece recently whereby bird charities
were pleading with cat owners to keep tiddles in at night in an effort to
mitigate the losses to the bird populations....I'm sending my cat OUT at night
armed with pre-sharpened claws and a picture of a seagull...kill puss
kill....
Not that I'd have a hope in hell, she's not daft our cat, she'll
chase squirrels and the male cat next door but seagulls? Not on your
nelly.
Perhaps they mistake my car for a trawler? I'd imagine these particular seagulls have neevr even seen the bloody sea so its quite conceivable.Somewhere in their feathery genes they know they're supposed to swoop and holler over something that moves below them at a somewhat stately pace.....trawlers at sea, the green machine in downtown Birmingham, nature will then invariably take its course, hatches will be opened and dive bombing commenced.
I'm annoyed enough now to write to my good friend Kim, asking her to send me a gun, what works for
Grackles ......
thrown by ladies
I really, REALLY enjoyed the Olympics, Particularly revisiting the sports I'd
forgotten existed in the interim four years.
Fencing is definitely one of those sports, I find it utterly bewildering, lots of prancing and lunging with rapid scoring that I, literally never spot.
To the commentators I'm witnessing fencing excellence with moves of great skill, to me I'm seeing them take turns to run at one another whilst holding a bendy sword.
I had a bendy sword as a child, (no jokes!)great fun it was, I guess there in lies the attraction. I wonder if the olympian fencers are also pretending to be pirates?
Then there's the judo. I love judo, I did it as a child albeit briefly. I got thrown all over the place, all the while laughing like a drain. You see, I went with my friend Eddie, a large lad who's ma had sent along to help lose weight. The 3 packets of crisps he'd eat afterwards somewhat mitigating her hopes.
Now Eddie was a grumpy child who loved the strength his bulk gave him and particularly using it on his friends, so, to see him being thrown round the mat by a girl, was hilarious.
He ALWAYS got paired with a tall teenage girl, some 4 or 5 years older than us.
I could'nt concentrate on myself for laughing at Eddie. This is MY excuse for being thrown around by a ginger lad. I mention his hair only as a point of reference, I love ginger folk....
For me now, some years later, the thought of being thrown by a sporty lady has its appeal...as long as its onto a bed.....for the soft landing you understand.
Well now, thanks to Olympic focus I once again know what an Ippon is, I forget in the interim periods and have to have it explained to me again every 4 years. I feel almost guilty that I pay so little attention otherwise but, really the difference between that and the other moves is negligible to my untrained eye.
Its the same with a multitude of other sports, if you told me I'd be gripped by the womens weightlifting I'd have said you were off your head!
Its big ladies lifting stuff, where's the attraction?. Well, the attractions there and I'll tell you what, the women these days are often fine looking ladies! Not that that is important, I mention it only to emphasise my surprise. I remember the days of East German weightlifting 'ladies' with a shudder.
A confusion for me in the judo is the constant state of undress. They spend an inordinate amount of time and energy repeatedly having to readjust disaassembled clothing, I'm like that myself, my trousers forever needing adjustement but, in a high paced sport shouldn't they wear something a bit more sensible?
Those huge jackets are like dressing gowns. I could turn up at the venue wearing a hotel dressing gown and they'd probably let me compete! Not that I'd want to appear on television in my dressing gown, its forever flopping open, what would the BBC think!
As for BMX, I want one! I want one now, I want to ride that mad course up and down those humps and bumps. Granted the last time I rode one....1984 ish...I flipped off a ramp and damaged my groin of all things, but I'll give it a go!
I might feel a little daft to be fair, grown man and all riding a dinky little bike but, with Rio only 4 years away....now what can I use to build me a ramp?.
Fencing is definitely one of those sports, I find it utterly bewildering, lots of prancing and lunging with rapid scoring that I, literally never spot.
To the commentators I'm witnessing fencing excellence with moves of great skill, to me I'm seeing them take turns to run at one another whilst holding a bendy sword.
I had a bendy sword as a child, (no jokes!)great fun it was, I guess there in lies the attraction. I wonder if the olympian fencers are also pretending to be pirates?
Then there's the judo. I love judo, I did it as a child albeit briefly. I got thrown all over the place, all the while laughing like a drain. You see, I went with my friend Eddie, a large lad who's ma had sent along to help lose weight. The 3 packets of crisps he'd eat afterwards somewhat mitigating her hopes.
Now Eddie was a grumpy child who loved the strength his bulk gave him and particularly using it on his friends, so, to see him being thrown round the mat by a girl, was hilarious.
He ALWAYS got paired with a tall teenage girl, some 4 or 5 years older than us.
I could'nt concentrate on myself for laughing at Eddie. This is MY excuse for being thrown around by a ginger lad. I mention his hair only as a point of reference, I love ginger folk....
For me now, some years later, the thought of being thrown by a sporty lady has its appeal...as long as its onto a bed.....for the soft landing you understand.
Well now, thanks to Olympic focus I once again know what an Ippon is, I forget in the interim periods and have to have it explained to me again every 4 years. I feel almost guilty that I pay so little attention otherwise but, really the difference between that and the other moves is negligible to my untrained eye.
Its the same with a multitude of other sports, if you told me I'd be gripped by the womens weightlifting I'd have said you were off your head!
Its big ladies lifting stuff, where's the attraction?. Well, the attractions there and I'll tell you what, the women these days are often fine looking ladies! Not that that is important, I mention it only to emphasise my surprise. I remember the days of East German weightlifting 'ladies' with a shudder.
A confusion for me in the judo is the constant state of undress. They spend an inordinate amount of time and energy repeatedly having to readjust disaassembled clothing, I'm like that myself, my trousers forever needing adjustement but, in a high paced sport shouldn't they wear something a bit more sensible?
Those huge jackets are like dressing gowns. I could turn up at the venue wearing a hotel dressing gown and they'd probably let me compete! Not that I'd want to appear on television in my dressing gown, its forever flopping open, what would the BBC think!
As for BMX, I want one! I want one now, I want to ride that mad course up and down those humps and bumps. Granted the last time I rode one....1984 ish...I flipped off a ramp and damaged my groin of all things, but I'll give it a go!
I might feel a little daft to be fair, grown man and all riding a dinky little bike but, with Rio only 4 years away....now what can I use to build me a ramp?.
A sporting tale.
In the midst of the Olympic extravaganza, I caught a local news item whereby, they reported on a protest by users of a, community sports arena designated for closure.
Now, when i say protest there were 7 actual people outside the arena with a smattering of small, handwritten placards among them. The(less than)magnificent 7 included a baby and at least two other people who appeared to be actually waiting for a bus, probably wandering across with the shopping bags to see what the camera was about.
Anyway, when the piece cut inside, the reporter did his report in front of the badminton court where, easily the worst ever badminton players ever allowed on a court, were enacting an(alleged)game of badminton. The news item was only a few minutes long and the 'game' only filled a couple of those but I seen enough to validate my statement. Easily the worst ever.
The two ladies in question did not get the shuttlecock over the actual net once! Not once, the player 'serving' and i really hesitate to call it that,would drop the cock(!), take a mad desperate swing at it with the poor misfortunate racket and, if they did connect at all, it 'flew' upward for about two miserable feet before decending with the grace of a fallen swan to land unceremoniously at the same players feet. The whole fiasco would be repeated while player b tried to look 'sporty' down the other end.A look she might have greater luck with if she hadn't been wearing jeans and a jacket.
The poor baby( protester no7 from outside...keep up!)had to watch all this from her pushchair parked courtside. Sadly for her they parked her facing the court but at least, being more than 3 feet away, she had no chance whatsoever of being hit.
With the theme of this Olympics being the legacy for sport afterward, our local news team obviously saw the chance to shoehorn a topical piece into the evening news, a classic filler item which they actually led the whole bulletin with! A seriously slow news day obviously, I believe the reported rounded up the 'protesters' from the local mom and baby club, theres no way on earth those two women had seen a shuttlecock before let alone hit one. Come to think of it they're probably still there 3 days later trying to hit that one!
Still, I hope they are sucessful in their protest, sports venues should be saved, I might even phone up and offer assistance, oh not with the placarding but to show the two ladies at least which way up a racket should be!
Now, when i say protest there were 7 actual people outside the arena with a smattering of small, handwritten placards among them. The(less than)magnificent 7 included a baby and at least two other people who appeared to be actually waiting for a bus, probably wandering across with the shopping bags to see what the camera was about.
Anyway, when the piece cut inside, the reporter did his report in front of the badminton court where, easily the worst ever badminton players ever allowed on a court, were enacting an(alleged)game of badminton. The news item was only a few minutes long and the 'game' only filled a couple of those but I seen enough to validate my statement. Easily the worst ever.
The two ladies in question did not get the shuttlecock over the actual net once! Not once, the player 'serving' and i really hesitate to call it that,would drop the cock(!), take a mad desperate swing at it with the poor misfortunate racket and, if they did connect at all, it 'flew' upward for about two miserable feet before decending with the grace of a fallen swan to land unceremoniously at the same players feet. The whole fiasco would be repeated while player b tried to look 'sporty' down the other end.A look she might have greater luck with if she hadn't been wearing jeans and a jacket.
The poor baby( protester no7 from outside...keep up!)had to watch all this from her pushchair parked courtside. Sadly for her they parked her facing the court but at least, being more than 3 feet away, she had no chance whatsoever of being hit.
With the theme of this Olympics being the legacy for sport afterward, our local news team obviously saw the chance to shoehorn a topical piece into the evening news, a classic filler item which they actually led the whole bulletin with! A seriously slow news day obviously, I believe the reported rounded up the 'protesters' from the local mom and baby club, theres no way on earth those two women had seen a shuttlecock before let alone hit one. Come to think of it they're probably still there 3 days later trying to hit that one!
Still, I hope they are sucessful in their protest, sports venues should be saved, I might even phone up and offer assistance, oh not with the placarding but to show the two ladies at least which way up a racket should be!
Shades of conference grey.
Anal Fisting. Its not a subject that gets spoken of very often but we did...on the way to a certain retail conference,mssrs Wheeldon, Ellis and myself.
Don't get me wrong we were not discussing the pros and cons of said sexual activity but, rather the fact that it features strongly in Fifty Shades of Grey. The mommy porn trilogy now available everybloodywhere.
(Incidentally, I wonder if 'mommy porn' will now become a genre at bookstores perhaps even an entire section of the library? Our librarian is a very staid lady, probably perfect fodder for mommy porn actually.....I'm now picturing her being spanked, oh sweet Jesus)
Anyway it was young Liam who proffered the information, he hasn't read the book but was reliably informed by someone who has. We, it has to be said, were somewhat abashed by the conversational bombshell and a little mind boggled that soooo many women have subscribed to it....the book that is, I have no inside data on the anal fisting figures.
Of course as mature sensible adults we got great mileage out of this titbit of info and discussed it at length. We determined that, clearly we are not the only perverts around here! Umm, by that I mean the male of the species and not Liam, Barry or I.
It does now tend to colour ones view of woman kind, you see them now and wonder what's going through their mind, are they mentally stripping naked before tying me to the bedstead, probably not its fair to say but you see our thought process.
On another note I'm actually looking at my own fist here and now and its bloody sizable, I can see no occasion at all when it should be inserted into something as small and delicate as...welll, as an arse quite frankly.
And, as they bored us stupid at the conference I thought of it a lot. I don't think any of the women I've known would be partakers of the activity no matter how many of the book series they'd read. Not that I would be offering...oh God I wish I hadn't gone down this strand.......
As yer man up on stage went about his topic.....I remember a conundrum of when to switch from pastels to shades!.... I was thinking about anal fisting. When they delivered us their own sandwiches as lunch, I was definitely thinking of anal fisting and, when they then herded us out of the main room into a glorified mini conferenece of our own, well you KNOW what I was thinking.
Don't get me wrong we were not discussing the pros and cons of said sexual activity but, rather the fact that it features strongly in Fifty Shades of Grey. The mommy porn trilogy now available everybloodywhere.
(Incidentally, I wonder if 'mommy porn' will now become a genre at bookstores perhaps even an entire section of the library? Our librarian is a very staid lady, probably perfect fodder for mommy porn actually.....I'm now picturing her being spanked, oh sweet Jesus)
Anyway it was young Liam who proffered the information, he hasn't read the book but was reliably informed by someone who has. We, it has to be said, were somewhat abashed by the conversational bombshell and a little mind boggled that soooo many women have subscribed to it....the book that is, I have no inside data on the anal fisting figures.
Of course as mature sensible adults we got great mileage out of this titbit of info and discussed it at length. We determined that, clearly we are not the only perverts around here! Umm, by that I mean the male of the species and not Liam, Barry or I.
It does now tend to colour ones view of woman kind, you see them now and wonder what's going through their mind, are they mentally stripping naked before tying me to the bedstead, probably not its fair to say but you see our thought process.
On another note I'm actually looking at my own fist here and now and its bloody sizable, I can see no occasion at all when it should be inserted into something as small and delicate as...welll, as an arse quite frankly.
And, as they bored us stupid at the conference I thought of it a lot. I don't think any of the women I've known would be partakers of the activity no matter how many of the book series they'd read. Not that I would be offering...oh God I wish I hadn't gone down this strand.......
As yer man up on stage went about his topic.....I remember a conundrum of when to switch from pastels to shades!.... I was thinking about anal fisting. When they delivered us their own sandwiches as lunch, I was definitely thinking of anal fisting and, when they then herded us out of the main room into a glorified mini conferenece of our own, well you KNOW what I was thinking.
new bowl for a well trained cat
Dragged into pet smart again....not kicking and screaming just sulking mildly..... I came across the most awful product in the world ever!
They had a cat loo! No not a cat litter tray but an actual toilet shaped cat litter that, in theory, introduces a cat to the toilet before weaning them onto our actual real toilet!
I kid you not, pet smart (or world or whatever the stupid place is called) are actually trying to promote cats on the toilet!
This bemuses me greatly I mean, how many poor cats have fallen in after attempting their first number two? And don't their claws get stuck on the andrex using up an entire roll to wipe very small arses? The mind boggles, I mean, what do they read on the toilet?
Bloody Pet Smart. Our one doesn't even have any animals or fish, whcih would at least make it interesting. They pipe bird noises through the speakers! Your perusing the cat treats feeling like you've stumbled I the Amazon....jungle not online retailer.
I hate the place with a passion. Its souless and clinical, staffed invariably by lifeless automatons whom they forgot to program with smiles, or indeed manners.
Mind you, I don't suppose I'd be happy cheery bundle of joy I am(what?) if I'd had to listen to birds warblin and squawking day in day out. In fact I can safely say I wouldn't!
For all those people who bought the stupid contraption I sincerely hope the cat leaves a floater.
They had a cat loo! No not a cat litter tray but an actual toilet shaped cat litter that, in theory, introduces a cat to the toilet before weaning them onto our actual real toilet!
I kid you not, pet smart (or world or whatever the stupid place is called) are actually trying to promote cats on the toilet!
This bemuses me greatly I mean, how many poor cats have fallen in after attempting their first number two? And don't their claws get stuck on the andrex using up an entire roll to wipe very small arses? The mind boggles, I mean, what do they read on the toilet?
Bloody Pet Smart. Our one doesn't even have any animals or fish, whcih would at least make it interesting. They pipe bird noises through the speakers! Your perusing the cat treats feeling like you've stumbled I the Amazon....jungle not online retailer.
I hate the place with a passion. Its souless and clinical, staffed invariably by lifeless automatons whom they forgot to program with smiles, or indeed manners.
Mind you, I don't suppose I'd be happy cheery bundle of joy I am(what?) if I'd had to listen to birds warblin and squawking day in day out. In fact I can safely say I wouldn't!
For all those people who bought the stupid contraption I sincerely hope the cat leaves a floater.
last of the holy men
My promise at 6 or 7 years old to my Grandad, that I would definitely be a priest when I grew up, is obviously one of many I've broken... mostly to women it has to be said and none of it priest related.....the chances of me making it too priest hood were slim even back then.
You see, despite being brought up in a hugely Catholic country, I had a somewhat lazy attitude to church attendance, something my dear ol' Ma didn't enforce either, she herself having a rather distant relationship with religion. The pub didn't have an altar and priests were boring company.
Don't get me wrong she was mad keen on the pageantry and tradition and had me do the communions and the confirmations and what have you, but the day to day nitty gritty of pious obedience was beyond her remit. I had freetime while everyone elses parents made them go to church. This presented somewhat of a problem for the local priest who feared for my mortal soul. He would diligently try to cajole my Ma' into raising a good catholic boy and would take great umbrage when she told him where to go.... often quite literally!
Now, when it came to confirmation at around 10 years old, it was just my luck that this same priest took us for the weeks of nonsense leading upto the day, he'd teach us how to prepare for good catholicism and take us to church for confirmation practice and so on. He had a distinct problem with yours truly! Partly because of my ma and partly because I played him up something rotten!
One of the deeds of preparation for confirmation was an increase in confession. We seemed to be prostrate in the confession box very 5 minutes! Always ready to palm the confessional priest....and we never knew who they were of course .... off, with corny sins such as lying to the teacher etc etc, I'd instead get quizzed about ..bad thoughts...did I have them?...Fast approaching puberty and being a cocky 10year old I wasn't about to admit to not having a clue what he was talking about, I instead replied in the affirmative and wondered the nature of these bad thoughts.
Suffice to say when I'd been issued with my 10 hail mary's and a diatribe on the deadly sin of self abuse I was still none the wiser nor indeed chastened. If there were bad thoughts to be had that upset priests this greatly, then i was up for that!
Outside the confession box you would be expected to take a pew and sit there saying your 25 hail marys and 14 our fathers, me, I'd get bored after 4 and sidle off when no one was looking, a sin in itself I was told, you see? I couldn't win no matter what.....
I wonder now though, if there was something in my bearing that suggested to them that I was a dead cert for rampant wanking? They were seemingly obsessed with keeping me and my peers away from the perils of masturbation. We were certainly getting curious and girls now had interesting shapes for us to consider, but any thoughts in this direction seemed like good ones to me. The very thought of them being impure and sinful seemed absurd. As did the term 'self abuse', did they think I was going to shout at myself, call myself names and abuse myself in general? Maybe a session in front of the mirror pointing and shouting MASTURBATOR!
In later years when all became clear, I did wonder about the priesthood...not about joining!,good God no!......I wondered if young priests were given a rule book, obviously banning sex of any description and all thoughts of women, but I wondered if it included, RULE 37 ..you must not self abuse.....seriously confusing the innocent young priests? Perhaps a sign in the dormitory,
LIGHTS OUT AT 9.30 AND ABSOLUTELY NO MASTURBATING UNDER THE COVERS.
I'd almost like to return to the confession box and query the notion, “father, what is so wrong with masturbation anyway?”
You see, despite being brought up in a hugely Catholic country, I had a somewhat lazy attitude to church attendance, something my dear ol' Ma didn't enforce either, she herself having a rather distant relationship with religion. The pub didn't have an altar and priests were boring company.
Don't get me wrong she was mad keen on the pageantry and tradition and had me do the communions and the confirmations and what have you, but the day to day nitty gritty of pious obedience was beyond her remit. I had freetime while everyone elses parents made them go to church. This presented somewhat of a problem for the local priest who feared for my mortal soul. He would diligently try to cajole my Ma' into raising a good catholic boy and would take great umbrage when she told him where to go.... often quite literally!
Now, when it came to confirmation at around 10 years old, it was just my luck that this same priest took us for the weeks of nonsense leading upto the day, he'd teach us how to prepare for good catholicism and take us to church for confirmation practice and so on. He had a distinct problem with yours truly! Partly because of my ma and partly because I played him up something rotten!
One of the deeds of preparation for confirmation was an increase in confession. We seemed to be prostrate in the confession box very 5 minutes! Always ready to palm the confessional priest....and we never knew who they were of course .... off, with corny sins such as lying to the teacher etc etc, I'd instead get quizzed about ..bad thoughts...did I have them?...Fast approaching puberty and being a cocky 10year old I wasn't about to admit to not having a clue what he was talking about, I instead replied in the affirmative and wondered the nature of these bad thoughts.
Suffice to say when I'd been issued with my 10 hail mary's and a diatribe on the deadly sin of self abuse I was still none the wiser nor indeed chastened. If there were bad thoughts to be had that upset priests this greatly, then i was up for that!
Outside the confession box you would be expected to take a pew and sit there saying your 25 hail marys and 14 our fathers, me, I'd get bored after 4 and sidle off when no one was looking, a sin in itself I was told, you see? I couldn't win no matter what.....
I wonder now though, if there was something in my bearing that suggested to them that I was a dead cert for rampant wanking? They were seemingly obsessed with keeping me and my peers away from the perils of masturbation. We were certainly getting curious and girls now had interesting shapes for us to consider, but any thoughts in this direction seemed like good ones to me. The very thought of them being impure and sinful seemed absurd. As did the term 'self abuse', did they think I was going to shout at myself, call myself names and abuse myself in general? Maybe a session in front of the mirror pointing and shouting MASTURBATOR!
In later years when all became clear, I did wonder about the priesthood...not about joining!,good God no!......I wondered if young priests were given a rule book, obviously banning sex of any description and all thoughts of women, but I wondered if it included, RULE 37 ..you must not self abuse.....seriously confusing the innocent young priests? Perhaps a sign in the dormitory,
LIGHTS OUT AT 9.30 AND ABSOLUTELY NO MASTURBATING UNDER THE COVERS.
I'd almost like to return to the confession box and query the notion, “father, what is so wrong with masturbation anyway?”
Dear QE2
The queue is an interminable length, 4 people ....but then this is the doctors surgery reception and 4 people will take an eternity, as always..... I'm person 4 and can only stand and daydream as the usual nonsense plays out before me.
Its guaranteed that of the 3 receptionists only one will be actually dealing with patients. The other two will be doing indefinable things with folders and telephones perfecting that look of extreme busyness while accomplishing nothing. I've worked with people who're masters at this, broom pushers, trolley amblers and cleaning spray carriers, they don't actually do anything but transport said items to different locations until their time runs down. Oxygen thieves was the way a colleague referred to them. Cruel but somewhat apt.
So, I'm standing in the queue, as usual ruminating over exactly wtf was holding things up. (My heart sinks every single time I walk in to find myself behind an old person! Worse if its more than one.)
This time the old person at the front was discussing where he needed to be, 2 (2!) Of the receptionists were now consulting his paperwork, umming and ahhing over it with a typical lack of urgency, meanwhile his wife added to the confused rapport by loudly discussing what to do for dinner.
Seemingly no one, apart from me, was listening to the poor old dear and I nearly shouted out, 'ffs do the sausages' in answer to her plea but thought better of it. Meanwhile the greek tragedy that was the old mans appointment, played out before us. Again I, briefly, held the urge to interject loudly,' look just send him to the effing nurse' but once again, rather cowardly kept schtum.
Anyway, when they'd finally deciphered between the four of them (5 if u include the food obsessed wife )that, a)he was indeed booked to see a nurse and, b) he would be having the sausages, the queue finally moved on. Receptionist a went back to serving and rec.b returned to advanced file carrying, never for one moment considering helping with the queue of course. Normality resumed and I began to feel that maybe sometime this month it would be my turn.
But oh no, fate decided to play a different hand as an elderly guy, not in the queue, suddenly marched up and started talking to the receptionist as she were mid serving, she held him off, showing him the hand, while finishing with her current client. However, when this finished and to my utter amazement, she then dealt with the queue jumping interloper! I was apoplectic with indignation but still 2 people back, the person who was rightfully next just stood there like a pleb!( Maybe the illusion was swan like and underneath the calm exterior she was actually a raging inferno of balled up fury?)
Anyway, it turned out the interloper was looney tunes and he'd queue jumped only to ask the receptionist if she knew the queens address, yes THE queen. He'd had a hefty electricity bill and wanted to complain to her maj in the hope that she'd agree it was unwarranted! I heard all this from my place in the queue and then 3 more times as the recptionist regaled the rest of her queue, me included, with the sorry tale. He wanted to write to the queen' she chortled to me, 'just gimme my effing prescription' I replied....or at least I wished I'd replied I actually affected an amused expression and wittered something like, 'some people eh?'
Its guaranteed that of the 3 receptionists only one will be actually dealing with patients. The other two will be doing indefinable things with folders and telephones perfecting that look of extreme busyness while accomplishing nothing. I've worked with people who're masters at this, broom pushers, trolley amblers and cleaning spray carriers, they don't actually do anything but transport said items to different locations until their time runs down. Oxygen thieves was the way a colleague referred to them. Cruel but somewhat apt.
So, I'm standing in the queue, as usual ruminating over exactly wtf was holding things up. (My heart sinks every single time I walk in to find myself behind an old person! Worse if its more than one.)
This time the old person at the front was discussing where he needed to be, 2 (2!) Of the receptionists were now consulting his paperwork, umming and ahhing over it with a typical lack of urgency, meanwhile his wife added to the confused rapport by loudly discussing what to do for dinner.
Seemingly no one, apart from me, was listening to the poor old dear and I nearly shouted out, 'ffs do the sausages' in answer to her plea but thought better of it. Meanwhile the greek tragedy that was the old mans appointment, played out before us. Again I, briefly, held the urge to interject loudly,' look just send him to the effing nurse' but once again, rather cowardly kept schtum.
Anyway, when they'd finally deciphered between the four of them (5 if u include the food obsessed wife )that, a)he was indeed booked to see a nurse and, b) he would be having the sausages, the queue finally moved on. Receptionist a went back to serving and rec.b returned to advanced file carrying, never for one moment considering helping with the queue of course. Normality resumed and I began to feel that maybe sometime this month it would be my turn.
But oh no, fate decided to play a different hand as an elderly guy, not in the queue, suddenly marched up and started talking to the receptionist as she were mid serving, she held him off, showing him the hand, while finishing with her current client. However, when this finished and to my utter amazement, she then dealt with the queue jumping interloper! I was apoplectic with indignation but still 2 people back, the person who was rightfully next just stood there like a pleb!( Maybe the illusion was swan like and underneath the calm exterior she was actually a raging inferno of balled up fury?)
Anyway, it turned out the interloper was looney tunes and he'd queue jumped only to ask the receptionist if she knew the queens address, yes THE queen. He'd had a hefty electricity bill and wanted to complain to her maj in the hope that she'd agree it was unwarranted! I heard all this from my place in the queue and then 3 more times as the recptionist regaled the rest of her queue, me included, with the sorry tale. He wanted to write to the queen' she chortled to me, 'just gimme my effing prescription' I replied....or at least I wished I'd replied I actually affected an amused expression and wittered something like, 'some people eh?'
Regulated Urinals
I've had a spate of urinal related curiosities of late.......panic not propriety fans, i hav,nt pee'd on the guy next to me, a life long dread, imagine a noise startled you at the wrong moment and you jerked around in fright, thereby inadvertently spraying the poor guy next to you, ruining for ever his beige chinos?.......what i mean is, a couple of weeks ago at a venue for our territory manangement meeting, we lads encountered the worlds highest urinals.
People of average leg length, such as myself, had to aim upward as it were, luckily mine comes fully flex....umm, unless aroused that is, although i have to state that is NEVER an issue at the urinals..
This week i'm at a hotel for a food safety course, only to find the worlds lowest urinals! Clearly sited for small boys, of which there are none on the course!
Again with the flexing i made good the difference and, downward in any case is pretty natural but i'm perplexed as to the vagries in urinal design, i would have thought there'd be a universal design size.
Possibly even a european union regulation?
People of average leg length, such as myself, had to aim upward as it were, luckily mine comes fully flex....umm, unless aroused that is, although i have to state that is NEVER an issue at the urinals..
This week i'm at a hotel for a food safety course, only to find the worlds lowest urinals! Clearly sited for small boys, of which there are none on the course!
Again with the flexing i made good the difference and, downward in any case is pretty natural but i'm perplexed as to the vagries in urinal design, i would have thought there'd be a universal design size.
Possibly even a european union regulation?
Dreamy!
So i had a dream last night and you were in it.....yes, an opening line that, really, neither of us wanted to read.
Let me still your now fast beating heart by quickly adding that it was a completely clean and innocent appearance!
I was running a newsagents......yes......and we had drafted in an old stalwart to cover a shift, who turned out to be you ,only with a different name and appearance! You looked like an oversized gnome complete with extravagent beard.
How i deciphered this was you i cannot say, other than it was definitely you, the dream was clear on that.
I was introducing you with a potted history, to the young girl also working that shift. She was a current member of my staff only also haviing a different name.
We were joined by a cafe lady....yes the newsagents has a cafe...who was going on her break pushing a wheelchair bound individual of indeterminate description, i know not what part they played or even why the cafe lady was taking them on her break.
Now, the girl, she of the different name, was bemoaning the cafe lady saying she was using your till and letting customers go out back into the cafe area for a warm!
The cafe lady then told me she had to drop a shift as she had no one to look after her kids and couldn't ask her husband as they weren't his kids..... She too was based on a former employee of mine who also had a casual attitude to kids, marriage and shift scheduling. However she remained nameless in the dream.
As the 2 ladies argued the rights and wrongs of using your till, you, wore your patented,' bemused round women' expression without saying a word.
Let me still your now fast beating heart by quickly adding that it was a completely clean and innocent appearance!
I was running a newsagents......yes......and we had drafted in an old stalwart to cover a shift, who turned out to be you ,only with a different name and appearance! You looked like an oversized gnome complete with extravagent beard.
How i deciphered this was you i cannot say, other than it was definitely you, the dream was clear on that.
I was introducing you with a potted history, to the young girl also working that shift. She was a current member of my staff only also haviing a different name.
We were joined by a cafe lady....yes the newsagents has a cafe...who was going on her break pushing a wheelchair bound individual of indeterminate description, i know not what part they played or even why the cafe lady was taking them on her break.
Now, the girl, she of the different name, was bemoaning the cafe lady saying she was using your till and letting customers go out back into the cafe area for a warm!
The cafe lady then told me she had to drop a shift as she had no one to look after her kids and couldn't ask her husband as they weren't his kids..... She too was based on a former employee of mine who also had a casual attitude to kids, marriage and shift scheduling. However she remained nameless in the dream.
As the 2 ladies argued the rights and wrongs of using your till, you, wore your patented,' bemused round women' expression without saying a word.
Self Help
Would solo bondage work? Couples try it all the time to spice things up but what about the poor sods who live on their lonesome, don't they deserve a little spice as well?
Don't see why they couldn't tie themself to the bedstead, i'm sure theres some kind of self tightening knot that'd do the job.
I know your supposed to have a safety word for release in the case of emergency, bit pointless really if your the only one playing but,
I suppose the answer would be to keep a phone handy, imagine the call? 'Yeah i'm tied to my head board.... stop laughing please and send help'
Personally i couldn't ever contemplate bondage as i know for a fact i'd tie mr's andy up then wander off to get some essential acoutrement only to forget all about the poor woman. Believe me she'd not be happy lying there trying to spit out her ball gag!
Then theres the gear, i'd feel daft dressed up like a gay metal head, leathers far to sweaty. I cant even say i find the womens stuff sexy, crotchless just looks drafty, theres no obvious allure.
And what about all those zips? I'd never find anything! All thoughts of lust would disappear quickly as i try locate my car keys.
Don't see why they couldn't tie themself to the bedstead, i'm sure theres some kind of self tightening knot that'd do the job.
I know your supposed to have a safety word for release in the case of emergency, bit pointless really if your the only one playing but,
I suppose the answer would be to keep a phone handy, imagine the call? 'Yeah i'm tied to my head board.... stop laughing please and send help'
Personally i couldn't ever contemplate bondage as i know for a fact i'd tie mr's andy up then wander off to get some essential acoutrement only to forget all about the poor woman. Believe me she'd not be happy lying there trying to spit out her ball gag!
Then theres the gear, i'd feel daft dressed up like a gay metal head, leathers far to sweaty. I cant even say i find the womens stuff sexy, crotchless just looks drafty, theres no obvious allure.
And what about all those zips? I'd never find anything! All thoughts of lust would disappear quickly as i try locate my car keys.
Flex, Aim, Fire
I've had some a spate of urinal related curiosities of late.......panic not propriety fans, i hav,nt pee'd on the guy next to me, a life long dread, imagine a noise startled you at the wrong moment and you jerked around in fright, thereby inadvertently spraying the poor guy next to you, ruining for ever his beige chinos?......
what i mean is, a couple of weeks ago at a venue for our territory manangement meeting, we lads encountered the worlds highest urinals.
People of average leg length, such as myself, had to aim upward as it were, luckily mine comes fully flex....umm, unless aroused that is, although i have to state that is NEVER an issue at the urinals..
This week i'm at a hotel for a food safety course, only to find the worlds lowest urinals! Clearly sited for small boys, of which there are none on the course!
Again with the flexing i made good the difference and, downward in any case is pretty natural but i'm perplexed as to the vagries in urinal design, i would have thought there'd be a universal design size.
Possibly even a european union regulation?!
what i mean is, a couple of weeks ago at a venue for our territory manangement meeting, we lads encountered the worlds highest urinals.
People of average leg length, such as myself, had to aim upward as it were, luckily mine comes fully flex....umm, unless aroused that is, although i have to state that is NEVER an issue at the urinals..
This week i'm at a hotel for a food safety course, only to find the worlds lowest urinals! Clearly sited for small boys, of which there are none on the course!
Again with the flexing i made good the difference and, downward in any case is pretty natural but i'm perplexed as to the vagries in urinal design, i would have thought there'd be a universal design size.
Possibly even a european union regulation?!
Shining My Metaphorical Halo
For all my good intentions not to, i still have a tendency to use the occasional profanity, i'm a man of ltd vocabluary, i need swear words to bulk it out.
Obviously as a consequence, i myself am not easily shocked and can hear all manner of effing an blindin without blinking an eye. Therefore it bothers me greatly that i am so acutely embarrased by the word knob!
Whenever i use it, or hear it used, even in the most innocent context, i feel like a naughty schoolboy, stopping short of giggling nervouslyt but almost certainly blushing like a guilty tomato. Its not even spelt like the...ahem..naughty nob?
Why does it sound so decadent? I blame bloody catholocism.
Anything that conjures up thoughts of my willy automatically kicks in the catholic guilt! Only catholicism could overlook every deadly sin known to mankind and then prop masturbation up as numero uno! Thou shalt not shine thy knob.....
Another aspect of guilt that troubles me lately is, ironically linked to my attempts to NOT use swearwords. In expressing extreme annoyance i forgo FFS in favour of for God's sakes!
This is all well and good except for when i'm in the presence of religeous folk! Such as the lovely old guy at work who worships God and Jesus with every ounce of hs being and who now has to hear me blaspheming 17 times a day!
I can guarantee that every time i'm for Gods saking, our resident holy man is wthin earshot! i end up apologsing and, i can only hope, convincing him that i too like God and am, in my own strange way, keeping his name alive and active! I'm not sure he is buying this?
As a probable consequence he speaks about jesus at every possible juncture, feelng perhaps that i need it. He's quite skilled, he can shoe horn JC into any conversation seamlessly. I now speak of increasingly random topics to see how creatve the' jesus s my savour' gets.
Obviously as a consequence, i myself am not easily shocked and can hear all manner of effing an blindin without blinking an eye. Therefore it bothers me greatly that i am so acutely embarrased by the word knob!
Whenever i use it, or hear it used, even in the most innocent context, i feel like a naughty schoolboy, stopping short of giggling nervouslyt but almost certainly blushing like a guilty tomato. Its not even spelt like the...ahem..naughty nob?
Why does it sound so decadent? I blame bloody catholocism.
Anything that conjures up thoughts of my willy automatically kicks in the catholic guilt! Only catholicism could overlook every deadly sin known to mankind and then prop masturbation up as numero uno! Thou shalt not shine thy knob.....
Another aspect of guilt that troubles me lately is, ironically linked to my attempts to NOT use swearwords. In expressing extreme annoyance i forgo FFS in favour of for God's sakes!
This is all well and good except for when i'm in the presence of religeous folk! Such as the lovely old guy at work who worships God and Jesus with every ounce of hs being and who now has to hear me blaspheming 17 times a day!
I can guarantee that every time i'm for Gods saking, our resident holy man is wthin earshot! i end up apologsing and, i can only hope, convincing him that i too like God and am, in my own strange way, keeping his name alive and active! I'm not sure he is buying this?
As a probable consequence he speaks about jesus at every possible juncture, feelng perhaps that i need it. He's quite skilled, he can shoe horn JC into any conversation seamlessly. I now speak of increasingly random topics to see how creatve the' jesus s my savour' gets.
BP's Got Talent
Despite our normal gift for self publication, bp is rarely on our tv
screens in an advertising sense....obviously we were on tv 24/7 for a
significant part of 2010, but not quite in the sense I hoped.....badly
blackened sea birdy's don't sell screenwash and the like.......We don't
seem to do tv advertising and I think that's a shame, what we need is
our own Howard...not Mr Nunn, we have him, I mean Halifax Howard, the
all singing all dancing former bank clerk. We have many gifted folk
within our organisation crying out to expose themselves.....so to
speak......take for example,
Guyscliffe's own young Liam who is a dance fanatic, seldom a day goes by when he's not waiting for me, jigging excitedly round the office with his latest dance move. I honestly don't know the difference between his gyrations but he seems spirited enough.......
Then there's another (former) dsm of mine, Helen at Ashchurch who fancies herself as a bit of a diva, there are many a huddle sung at Ashchurch, believe me. Her dedicated warblings would be perfect for prime time tv sandwiched in the middle of Corrie. But everyone'd be off making a cuppa? I hear you protest.......exactly!
The opportunities are endless, Sarah from Ashchurch tap dances in her spare time, Charlie at Raunds has entered each and every X Factor (rejected, not pre-watershed friendly, I think he sings songs with sexual swearwords in them), Calam from Fourways sung at the Christmas party! ….I was opposite him and can vouch for his …..loudness. Actual tunefulness we could work on later.
Barry from Rugby Rd heard about my mission and immediately rang me up to offer his services, “I've been line dancin for years!” he proclaimed, “watch this” ...I protested that we were on the phone and I couldn't actually see his efforts, but to no avail, and it was 10 minutes of distant clumping before he came back on the line, puffing and panting, “hows that” he queried?
And then theres Malpas's own Welsh male voice choir stalwart Paul, who boasts that, while Tom Jones had women throwing their underwear at him for years, he (Pauly) had them throwing overcoats......
Now, obviously all this talent would need harnessing in a 'showbusiness style' and will take careful direction, who better to handle an extravaganza of petroleum related song and dance, than Solihull's own queen of the musical, Sam?
I discussed this with Sammy, “ at last!, you don't know how long I've waited for this mate” she cried. “How Camp can I go?” …..obviously I translated this from Wednesbury for the uninitiated, what she actually said contained a lot of yowams and a whole load of we'ums......
She immediately proposed a kids from fame style singalonga (dance) rampage across the forecourt, using car bonnets and the like, I'm not sure Hsse would go for that but I would run the script past Nigel Collison for approval. They'd probably want something a little more sedate.....Safety Alert 73 Liam falls from a Ford Fiesta whilst enacting a 'petroleum related' cha cha cha .....
I also know for a fact that, Ann from Bedworth has long been a frustrated performer, although I'm not sure we could fit a ventriloquist in the advert....... I asked, “where's your dummy?” she replied, “take yer pick” …..
Obviously the Halifax doctor well known tunes and ditties to advertise their products and we would have to do the same. Luckily Mike O'Shea writes ad jingles as a hobby in his spare time (Mr's O'S strictly regulates post work activities ) and, in fact, has a nectar jingle all prepared to the tune of, A whole lotta Rosie. I'm sure Ac/Dc wont mind.....
Now you really wouldn't expect me to do one of these and forget the immortal Brendan... Brendan and Mr's Brendan just happen to be, All Tamworth Ballroom Champions (over 40's section) for 4 years running. It would have been 5 but for Brendan arriving at the last one late in his bespangled bp trousers, not bespangled enough sadly and he was disqualified much to Mr's Brendan's chagrin.... he's still sleeping in the shed to this day.....he'd spent his whole shift as well gluing the sequins on as well.
Guyscliffe's own young Liam who is a dance fanatic, seldom a day goes by when he's not waiting for me, jigging excitedly round the office with his latest dance move. I honestly don't know the difference between his gyrations but he seems spirited enough.......
Then there's another (former) dsm of mine, Helen at Ashchurch who fancies herself as a bit of a diva, there are many a huddle sung at Ashchurch, believe me. Her dedicated warblings would be perfect for prime time tv sandwiched in the middle of Corrie. But everyone'd be off making a cuppa? I hear you protest.......exactly!
The opportunities are endless, Sarah from Ashchurch tap dances in her spare time, Charlie at Raunds has entered each and every X Factor (rejected, not pre-watershed friendly, I think he sings songs with sexual swearwords in them), Calam from Fourways sung at the Christmas party! ….I was opposite him and can vouch for his …..loudness. Actual tunefulness we could work on later.
Barry from Rugby Rd heard about my mission and immediately rang me up to offer his services, “I've been line dancin for years!” he proclaimed, “watch this” ...I protested that we were on the phone and I couldn't actually see his efforts, but to no avail, and it was 10 minutes of distant clumping before he came back on the line, puffing and panting, “hows that” he queried?
And then theres Malpas's own Welsh male voice choir stalwart Paul, who boasts that, while Tom Jones had women throwing their underwear at him for years, he (Pauly) had them throwing overcoats......
Now, obviously all this talent would need harnessing in a 'showbusiness style' and will take careful direction, who better to handle an extravaganza of petroleum related song and dance, than Solihull's own queen of the musical, Sam?
I discussed this with Sammy, “ at last!, you don't know how long I've waited for this mate” she cried. “How Camp can I go?” …..obviously I translated this from Wednesbury for the uninitiated, what she actually said contained a lot of yowams and a whole load of we'ums......
She immediately proposed a kids from fame style singalonga (dance) rampage across the forecourt, using car bonnets and the like, I'm not sure Hsse would go for that but I would run the script past Nigel Collison for approval. They'd probably want something a little more sedate.....Safety Alert 73 Liam falls from a Ford Fiesta whilst enacting a 'petroleum related' cha cha cha .....
I also know for a fact that, Ann from Bedworth has long been a frustrated performer, although I'm not sure we could fit a ventriloquist in the advert....... I asked, “where's your dummy?” she replied, “take yer pick” …..
Obviously the Halifax doctor well known tunes and ditties to advertise their products and we would have to do the same. Luckily Mike O'Shea writes ad jingles as a hobby in his spare time (Mr's O'S strictly regulates post work activities ) and, in fact, has a nectar jingle all prepared to the tune of, A whole lotta Rosie. I'm sure Ac/Dc wont mind.....
Now you really wouldn't expect me to do one of these and forget the immortal Brendan... Brendan and Mr's Brendan just happen to be, All Tamworth Ballroom Champions (over 40's section) for 4 years running. It would have been 5 but for Brendan arriving at the last one late in his bespangled bp trousers, not bespangled enough sadly and he was disqualified much to Mr's Brendan's chagrin.... he's still sleeping in the shed to this day.....he'd spent his whole shift as well gluing the sequins on as well.
Hazardous Counting
Not having attended the meeting I was unaware of the new requirement
that we hazard tape a small square on our desks, for the purpose of cash
counting.
Thankfully Nadine has now shown me the new process and we are once again compliant with company wishes,....sort of.....
We must now, using red and white hazard tape, create a square on our desk which will be covered by camera and within which all cash counting must be done.....I kid you now.....
I was confused as to the new cash counting square, is it cash only or does the person counting have to be within the square as well? If, for example, the camera is focused on the 'square' then its possible that only the counters hands will appear in shot. Now unless they have distinctive hands, such as a digit missing or a micheal jackson style skin complaint, then we will still be none the wiser, should the hands steal money.
With this in mind I took the decision that all counting must now be done within the 'hazard square'
Unfortunately this in itself presents a safety hazard. A counter personage will need to climb onto the counter(!) and position themselves inside the 'hazard square' to commence counting, now we can pretty safely ascend to the desk using only the elephants foot, but what about people such as young Liam who gets vertigo stepping up a curb? The possibility is we will arrive at work and find him frozen to the elephants foot clinging on for dear life, unable to step up or down. The night guy will be subsequently traumatised by the haunting noises emitting from the office as Liam howls for help, and all hell will have broken loose.
With this safety consideration in mind I have now installed a safety harness pully system above the 'hazard square' and Liam is quite comfortable being hoisted into cash counting position, we've also fitted a safety rail along the desk edge so he feels comfortable once up there. Bonus being the handyman did all the work so the cost was minimal.
We encountered one further problem with the, 'safe open door closed' rule, it isn't always possible to have 2 management on the same shift and so who would do the necessary hoisting at cash count time? With an extended pully system, fed through a newly created office door letterbox, we will be able to enlist a csa to hoist Liam aboard the desk, he can then keep the door locked and issue instructions from within, “higher, no lower, aaarrgggh I'm at the ceiling...lower lower....”
All in all I feel we are now ready to count cash in the safe and secure manner intended, with no more theft and all thanks to some hazard tape, abseiling gear and managerial ingenuity, isn't bp great?
Thankfully Nadine has now shown me the new process and we are once again compliant with company wishes,....sort of.....
We must now, using red and white hazard tape, create a square on our desk which will be covered by camera and within which all cash counting must be done.....I kid you now.....
I was confused as to the new cash counting square, is it cash only or does the person counting have to be within the square as well? If, for example, the camera is focused on the 'square' then its possible that only the counters hands will appear in shot. Now unless they have distinctive hands, such as a digit missing or a micheal jackson style skin complaint, then we will still be none the wiser, should the hands steal money.
With this in mind I took the decision that all counting must now be done within the 'hazard square'
Unfortunately this in itself presents a safety hazard. A counter personage will need to climb onto the counter(!) and position themselves inside the 'hazard square' to commence counting, now we can pretty safely ascend to the desk using only the elephants foot, but what about people such as young Liam who gets vertigo stepping up a curb? The possibility is we will arrive at work and find him frozen to the elephants foot clinging on for dear life, unable to step up or down. The night guy will be subsequently traumatised by the haunting noises emitting from the office as Liam howls for help, and all hell will have broken loose.
With this safety consideration in mind I have now installed a safety harness pully system above the 'hazard square' and Liam is quite comfortable being hoisted into cash counting position, we've also fitted a safety rail along the desk edge so he feels comfortable once up there. Bonus being the handyman did all the work so the cost was minimal.
We encountered one further problem with the, 'safe open door closed' rule, it isn't always possible to have 2 management on the same shift and so who would do the necessary hoisting at cash count time? With an extended pully system, fed through a newly created office door letterbox, we will be able to enlist a csa to hoist Liam aboard the desk, he can then keep the door locked and issue instructions from within, “higher, no lower, aaarrgggh I'm at the ceiling...lower lower....”
All in all I feel we are now ready to count cash in the safe and secure manner intended, with no more theft and all thanks to some hazard tape, abseiling gear and managerial ingenuity, isn't bp great?
Literate Illiterates
The thick fog lay over the m40 like a blanket, visibility was down to
less than 5 feet. Cars overtaking would quickly vanish into the distance
and my rear view mirror revealed nothing but the occasional ghostly
shape looming from the wall of grey....... and then I started to see the
digital display signs, their lights flashing a dance of warning on the
central reservation....I couldn't make out what it said due to the lack
of visibility and had to wait until I was near upon it before I could
finally read the word, …... FOG.....it said, in bright luminescence.
How very helpful I thought, thankfully I can read, but imagine how many illiterate drivers became confused?
How very helpful I thought, thankfully I can read, but imagine how many illiterate drivers became confused?
The Pokey Badge
With the addition of the new (huge!) Euromillion badge to the on chest
array, we had to take great care when applying it to young Satheesh here
at Guyscliffe.
Now young Satheesh is a fellow of the smaller persuasion so the extra precautions were very necessary and great care had to be taken. Sadly, the initial location of the badge proved difficult, he was inadvertently stabbed several times as we tried to find free chest space and although fine now, there was a fear for a while that he may lose a nipple.
Once we had the badge finally in place we then had the problem of him maintaining his balance under the excess weight, and had to bolster him from behind while he adjusted. He cracked it soon enough and despite the odd topple forward he's now able to get about the store fairly well, albeit lurching rather a bit. He cant of course carry anything, so stocking up is out of the question but at least he can take breaks of convenience....hopefully without falling in.....and is relatively fine propped up at till one.
We have of course done a safety huddle sign off with him, insisting that he stay away from any magnetic sources.......
Now young Satheesh is a fellow of the smaller persuasion so the extra precautions were very necessary and great care had to be taken. Sadly, the initial location of the badge proved difficult, he was inadvertently stabbed several times as we tried to find free chest space and although fine now, there was a fear for a while that he may lose a nipple.
Once we had the badge finally in place we then had the problem of him maintaining his balance under the excess weight, and had to bolster him from behind while he adjusted. He cracked it soon enough and despite the odd topple forward he's now able to get about the store fairly well, albeit lurching rather a bit. He cant of course carry anything, so stocking up is out of the question but at least he can take breaks of convenience....hopefully without falling in.....and is relatively fine propped up at till one.
We have of course done a safety huddle sign off with him, insisting that he stay away from any magnetic sources.......
The AL Factor
The X Factor is back! Yes, Britain's glorified karaoke competion begins again with the only weeks worth watching, the freaks n geeks who's friends are clearly deaf! How can they claim friendship and then allow their 'friend' to make complete twats of themselves on national television?
The Micheal Jackson fanatics are my personal favorite, professing their undying devotion before going on to butcher one of his classics! Its the guilty pleasure of laughing at these poor sad saps that troubles me though, it's car crash television, you know your going to watch something horrific and its deeply wrong but you still sit there happily glued to the sofa with the 11 million other ghouls.(not the same sofa obviously)
Like a modern day reenactment of Victorian freak shows, the x factor wheels out freak after freak, "and now for your visual and auditory entertainment the elephant man will sing beat it by micheal Jackson"
I've also never seen one that doesn't do the dance, have one spangly glove and the trousers too short for their legs! Where the hell they get all this crap is beyond me, apart from Saturdays guy who apparently made his whole 'costume' himself! I think that's one of the most scary things i've ever typed....how long do you think it would take for a madman to knock up a Micheal ensemble in his bedsit above the chippy? The jacket alone must take weeks.
Watching the guy on Saturday I kept remembering the scene from silence of the lambs where the mad fella makes himself a suit out of peoples skin, granted he didn't then go and bust a moonwalk while warbling human nature but the visual seemed eerily apt...at least to me!.Unfortunately this also led to remembering the scene when he tucked his willy between his legs....uuughhh! The mad fella that is not the jacko, I don't think jacko even had a willy..
On the subject of mad Jacko fans I have a friend, name of Al, who is a rabid long term jacko fan and while, clearly not mad, he does possess a dazzling array of ocd's! I've a strong suspicion that we, his true friends, could maybe talk him into next years auditions? I for one would pay to see it!
He is most certainly capable of producing his own costume, he isn't into dressmaking don't get me wrong, but what the lad can do with a few rolls of sticky tape and a permanent marker is legend!
Another factor in my suspicion that he could join the ranks of impersonators is, he can do the dance to a tee! I've seen the lad moonwalk and he might be short, the ankle swinger pants would be a problem, but he sure can move!
I'm not sure if he can sing but as previously pointed out, that's very much not a prerequisite, either way we'd be on a winner, if he howls like 2 cats fighting in a bag? Comedy gold, if alternately he can hold a tune we go all out to make him a contender!
Al in the final would garner votes the world over! I reckon we could even get him sponsored by Pepsi Zambia, In a strange tribute to the infamous hair aflame commercial that never was!
The Micheal Jackson fanatics are my personal favorite, professing their undying devotion before going on to butcher one of his classics! Its the guilty pleasure of laughing at these poor sad saps that troubles me though, it's car crash television, you know your going to watch something horrific and its deeply wrong but you still sit there happily glued to the sofa with the 11 million other ghouls.(not the same sofa obviously)
Like a modern day reenactment of Victorian freak shows, the x factor wheels out freak after freak, "and now for your visual and auditory entertainment the elephant man will sing beat it by micheal Jackson"
I've also never seen one that doesn't do the dance, have one spangly glove and the trousers too short for their legs! Where the hell they get all this crap is beyond me, apart from Saturdays guy who apparently made his whole 'costume' himself! I think that's one of the most scary things i've ever typed....how long do you think it would take for a madman to knock up a Micheal ensemble in his bedsit above the chippy? The jacket alone must take weeks.
Watching the guy on Saturday I kept remembering the scene from silence of the lambs where the mad fella makes himself a suit out of peoples skin, granted he didn't then go and bust a moonwalk while warbling human nature but the visual seemed eerily apt...at least to me!.Unfortunately this also led to remembering the scene when he tucked his willy between his legs....uuughhh! The mad fella that is not the jacko, I don't think jacko even had a willy..
On the subject of mad Jacko fans I have a friend, name of Al, who is a rabid long term jacko fan and while, clearly not mad, he does possess a dazzling array of ocd's! I've a strong suspicion that we, his true friends, could maybe talk him into next years auditions? I for one would pay to see it!
He is most certainly capable of producing his own costume, he isn't into dressmaking don't get me wrong, but what the lad can do with a few rolls of sticky tape and a permanent marker is legend!
Another factor in my suspicion that he could join the ranks of impersonators is, he can do the dance to a tee! I've seen the lad moonwalk and he might be short, the ankle swinger pants would be a problem, but he sure can move!
I'm not sure if he can sing but as previously pointed out, that's very much not a prerequisite, either way we'd be on a winner, if he howls like 2 cats fighting in a bag? Comedy gold, if alternately he can hold a tune we go all out to make him a contender!
Al in the final would garner votes the world over! I reckon we could even get him sponsored by Pepsi Zambia, In a strange tribute to the infamous hair aflame commercial that never was!
The Man. The Pope.
This September the Midlands and surrounding area, (such as Warwick) will
be graced by a visit from his holiness the Pope!
As a good catholic boy by upbringing I am naturally very excited at the prospect of the pontiff popping into Guyscliff for a packet of pork scratchings and my retailers brain has been kicking into gear with ideas,
1. We must have a merchandising stand, like the England stand, replica flags papal hats and rosary beads. Pope on tour t-shirts even, WARWICK SEPT 2010.... Nothing too garish or tatty so we should perhaps discount Flowerfete as a supplier. Not unless we want little plastic wind up Popes on till 3.....I might suggest that one actually.
2. Naturally there will be an awful lot of holy folk in the vicinity, many of them while here may accumulate rather urgent confessional needs. We should provide for these needs by offering to situate a few portable confessional booths here on the forecourt. Naturally these booths will appear somewhat similar to portable toilets so careful signage will be essential, we wouldn't want any unfortunate accidents whereby some unsuspecting priest gets an unwelcome shower.....
3. It is entirely feasible that his holiness will visit one of our stores, I'm unsure of the protocol around whether we should upsell to the Pope, or even if he carries money in his...robe type thing....but wine of the month is particularly cost effective for communion wine I guess we could ask if he needs any? Failing that please revert to the little plastic wind up Popes on till 3
4. Queing for the Popes autograph should be discouraged although I do believe it is customary for catholics to kiss the papal ring....I don't know whether a private room should be assigned for this? ….ohhh ring as in Jewellery.... Phew!.....
5. Bp is a secular company renowned for acceptance of ,and respect for, all religions and beliefs therefore any favoritism shown toward the Pope cannot be tolerated and he must, in effect, be treated as a normal customer. He is probably just as annoying as a normal customer....I feel sure he has a Nectar card already but should he not, then it is our duty to encorage him to set one up, he can take the pack today, pop it in the glovebox of the Pope mobile then jump online when he's back at the Vatican and register at his leisure. Advise him there is probably a Sainsbury local in St Peters square.
6. Do not mention the war. If there are any old folk in attendance on the day likely to mention the war please have them locked in a suitable cupboard for the duration. A non-confrontational headlock is authorised for use during the Papal visit. ( Although his holiness is alleged to have been Hitler youth as a boy he assures the world it was because he liked the uniform).......
7. If there are large crowds and the opportunity presents itself, a few bottles of Volvic water blessed by the holy father would sell like hot cakes afterwards. Email Dwayne to send extra in labelled for holy water purposes.
8. With our own beloved Stonebridge winning a trip to SA for the world cup perhaps Flowerfete could be persuaded to sponsor a foreign trip based on sales of the little plastic wind up Popes?
9. Friday focus upsell item for Sept will, naturally enough, be the little plastic wind up Popes.
As a good catholic boy by upbringing I am naturally very excited at the prospect of the pontiff popping into Guyscliff for a packet of pork scratchings and my retailers brain has been kicking into gear with ideas,
1. We must have a merchandising stand, like the England stand, replica flags papal hats and rosary beads. Pope on tour t-shirts even, WARWICK SEPT 2010.... Nothing too garish or tatty so we should perhaps discount Flowerfete as a supplier. Not unless we want little plastic wind up Popes on till 3.....I might suggest that one actually.
2. Naturally there will be an awful lot of holy folk in the vicinity, many of them while here may accumulate rather urgent confessional needs. We should provide for these needs by offering to situate a few portable confessional booths here on the forecourt. Naturally these booths will appear somewhat similar to portable toilets so careful signage will be essential, we wouldn't want any unfortunate accidents whereby some unsuspecting priest gets an unwelcome shower.....
3. It is entirely feasible that his holiness will visit one of our stores, I'm unsure of the protocol around whether we should upsell to the Pope, or even if he carries money in his...robe type thing....but wine of the month is particularly cost effective for communion wine I guess we could ask if he needs any? Failing that please revert to the little plastic wind up Popes on till 3
4. Queing for the Popes autograph should be discouraged although I do believe it is customary for catholics to kiss the papal ring....I don't know whether a private room should be assigned for this? ….ohhh ring as in Jewellery.... Phew!.....
5. Bp is a secular company renowned for acceptance of ,and respect for, all religions and beliefs therefore any favoritism shown toward the Pope cannot be tolerated and he must, in effect, be treated as a normal customer. He is probably just as annoying as a normal customer....I feel sure he has a Nectar card already but should he not, then it is our duty to encorage him to set one up, he can take the pack today, pop it in the glovebox of the Pope mobile then jump online when he's back at the Vatican and register at his leisure. Advise him there is probably a Sainsbury local in St Peters square.
6. Do not mention the war. If there are any old folk in attendance on the day likely to mention the war please have them locked in a suitable cupboard for the duration. A non-confrontational headlock is authorised for use during the Papal visit. ( Although his holiness is alleged to have been Hitler youth as a boy he assures the world it was because he liked the uniform).......
7. If there are large crowds and the opportunity presents itself, a few bottles of Volvic water blessed by the holy father would sell like hot cakes afterwards. Email Dwayne to send extra in labelled for holy water purposes.
8. With our own beloved Stonebridge winning a trip to SA for the world cup perhaps Flowerfete could be persuaded to sponsor a foreign trip based on sales of the little plastic wind up Popes?
9. Friday focus upsell item for Sept will, naturally enough, be the little plastic wind up Popes.
Active Parrots
With the advent of active selling we finally get away from the
repetition that had become our byword for upselling, “ coffee? Tea?hot
chocolate?doughnuts? Repeat repeat repeat....customers were leaving the
tills looking shell shocked and confused, some of them were leaving the
forecourt having forgotten they'd come by car.
Now we have licence...and official passports.....to upsell according to the customer in front of us. Hurrah....you'd think! Sadly this has confused some of our csa's considerably, they liked repetition they were comfortable with it, like Hari Krishna with a whole new mantra they trotted out their chants, now here we were asking them to decide what to upsale.
We're trying to get them to recognise and act on link purchases, to emphasise this we of course used cigarettes linked to a lighter as an example. Unfortunately the former parrots among our crew have clung to this like a life raft in the sea of upselling, they now ask anyone and everyone if they'd like a lighter with every purchase, seriously confusing non smoking customers. “no no ” I hear young Liam exclaiming in desperate exasperation (he'd be tearing his hair out if he had assurance it would definitely grow back) “you have to link things with other things that make sense, you can't link lighters to toilet tissue, they're not trying to set fire to their *****s...”
The confusion is further compounded on lottery day when they're told to upsell lottery then link in scratchcards ….. “lottery, scratchcards, lighters?” I hear them chant, it cant be long before they've once again begun offering a complete inventory of the shop to each and every poor bemused customer.
On a side note a few of our overseas staff were delighted at the prospect of being issued passports until it was explained they were merely for star collection and wouldn't render them suddenly available for 40 hours..... one lad even tried to leave the country using his, he still thinks he only failed due to not having enough stars....As I said to him “yes Liam I know I said it is a passport but it doesn't even have your photograph in it ….oh I see you've stapled one in....”
Now we have licence...and official passports.....to upsell according to the customer in front of us. Hurrah....you'd think! Sadly this has confused some of our csa's considerably, they liked repetition they were comfortable with it, like Hari Krishna with a whole new mantra they trotted out their chants, now here we were asking them to decide what to upsale.
We're trying to get them to recognise and act on link purchases, to emphasise this we of course used cigarettes linked to a lighter as an example. Unfortunately the former parrots among our crew have clung to this like a life raft in the sea of upselling, they now ask anyone and everyone if they'd like a lighter with every purchase, seriously confusing non smoking customers. “no no ” I hear young Liam exclaiming in desperate exasperation (he'd be tearing his hair out if he had assurance it would definitely grow back) “you have to link things with other things that make sense, you can't link lighters to toilet tissue, they're not trying to set fire to their *****s...”
The confusion is further compounded on lottery day when they're told to upsell lottery then link in scratchcards ….. “lottery, scratchcards, lighters?” I hear them chant, it cant be long before they've once again begun offering a complete inventory of the shop to each and every poor bemused customer.
On a side note a few of our overseas staff were delighted at the prospect of being issued passports until it was explained they were merely for star collection and wouldn't render them suddenly available for 40 hours..... one lad even tried to leave the country using his, he still thinks he only failed due to not having enough stars....As I said to him “yes Liam I know I said it is a passport but it doesn't even have your photograph in it ….oh I see you've stapled one in....”
Charlie Of Raunds
The sheer quantity of pregnancies in Nadines patch over the last couple
of years led me to believe it was more than mere coincidence. Csas's,
duties, deputies, managers and even the Tm herself have succumbed to
this wave of fertility. With this in mind I did some digging to see if I
could establish a common link and it turns out I can!
The common link in all cases is, Charlie of Raunds!
I believe Charlie of Raunds to be some kind of latent fertility idol, everywhere he went over the last few years he left a trail of expectant mothers and indeed fathers. Fear not propriety fans you don't have to rub him for it to take effect nor am I suggesting Charlie performs ancient fertility rites, no dancing round the forecourt of Raunds naked or anything, least not so I've heard and I'm sure Sam would have complained.
With this in mind young Charlie is going to have to be careful around ladies who, shall we say, have left their child rearing days behind them, I cannot imagine the violence that would ensue should they find themselves pregnant having sat next to him at a territory meeting! I myself am taking great precaution after exposure to Charlie but have to say that 'great precaution' has a tendency to cut the circulation to certain important areas and my fear of something important falling off is greater than my fear of Fertile Charlie.
Anyway, Young Liam here at Guyscliffe is a beneficiary of Charlies latent fertilitynessness and is an expectant father. Now he's a young lad and needs guidance, not with the birds and the bees obviously he got that part but I am of course a veteran of the pregnancy battle field and would be more than happy to pass on the great knowledge and insight I have attained.
Most of it intuitive admittedly, I flicked through a pregnancy 'manual' one time and horrified at the graphic nature never went back! I preferred instead to interpret the changes and happenings as they ummm changed and happened!
(I did do the classes (natal aunties or something) but felt that, if she were allowed an evening hobby, couldn't I maybe take golf lessons instead?)
Thankfully, body wise, all of these changes are in the female, not for expectant dads the swollen ankles and irritated nipples. (I know not what irritates the nipples maybe its the sight of one another?) That aside the role of innocent bystander cannot be under played, its hell out there. When your the only buffer for a woman who spends months feeling like a beached whale, its a thankless task let me tell you and your personal safety is not improved by asking her at bedtime why she's brought a beach ball.....
The beached whale thing is a source of great emotional fragility to a woman unused to it. Take Emily for example, normally a dainty delicate soul (some still terrified csas on Nadine's patch would faint at Emily being described as delicate) she has had to suffer her 'extra luggage' during peak summer season, however being a hardy soul she still manage the Isle of Wight festival, (Rumours that small children used her belly as shelter are believed to be untrue, further rumours that she break danced to JayZ are also unconfirmed), whereas your average bloke would be laid up from conception onwards! Bedridden and demanding, “ I cant go the pub with me mates like this, my ankles are all swollen and my nipples are well irritated!”.....also no doubt severely cursing young Charlie......
Obviously each pregnancy is different (I guess) but even my random experiences might prove helpful to anyone who cared to ask, such as the nursing bra incident. My daughter being 3 weeks early my other half was unprepared and, despite her better judgement and, probably still under the effects of gas, instructed yours truly to obtain a nursing bra! I think at the time I managed a neutral expression that didn't betray my lack of comprehension. The frazzled neurons of my brain heard bra and nurse in the same sentence and I, (somewhat feverishly), imagined we were going to play dressing up when we got home! A thought prompted probably by the distant memory of sex at this stage......O.k so it wasn't that distant but measure distant as someone who thinks about it every 37 seconds i.e. male..... and this wasn't what she meant at all....
I was vaguely aware that Argos were unlikely to do them and eventually realised that Mothercare might in fact be the place to obtain said nursing bra. I was horrified when it was explained to me...somewhat crankily I might add.....that this item was needed for leakage! Needless to say I managed to purchase a couple of them, with the help of a bemused Mothercare assistant......
“I need a bra....not for me, I mean a bra for someone else.....ummm its got a special name?....has to be leak proof if that's any help?...yes yes that's it a nurses bra ...I need a nurses bra!........size? ...ummm about this big.....” I didn't dare to glance at the assistant at this stage for the sake of comparison, thankfully realising how imprudent it would be to say something like, “a little smaller than yours”....
The common link in all cases is, Charlie of Raunds!
I believe Charlie of Raunds to be some kind of latent fertility idol, everywhere he went over the last few years he left a trail of expectant mothers and indeed fathers. Fear not propriety fans you don't have to rub him for it to take effect nor am I suggesting Charlie performs ancient fertility rites, no dancing round the forecourt of Raunds naked or anything, least not so I've heard and I'm sure Sam would have complained.
With this in mind young Charlie is going to have to be careful around ladies who, shall we say, have left their child rearing days behind them, I cannot imagine the violence that would ensue should they find themselves pregnant having sat next to him at a territory meeting! I myself am taking great precaution after exposure to Charlie but have to say that 'great precaution' has a tendency to cut the circulation to certain important areas and my fear of something important falling off is greater than my fear of Fertile Charlie.
Anyway, Young Liam here at Guyscliffe is a beneficiary of Charlies latent fertilitynessness and is an expectant father. Now he's a young lad and needs guidance, not with the birds and the bees obviously he got that part but I am of course a veteran of the pregnancy battle field and would be more than happy to pass on the great knowledge and insight I have attained.
Most of it intuitive admittedly, I flicked through a pregnancy 'manual' one time and horrified at the graphic nature never went back! I preferred instead to interpret the changes and happenings as they ummm changed and happened!
(I did do the classes (natal aunties or something) but felt that, if she were allowed an evening hobby, couldn't I maybe take golf lessons instead?)
Thankfully, body wise, all of these changes are in the female, not for expectant dads the swollen ankles and irritated nipples. (I know not what irritates the nipples maybe its the sight of one another?) That aside the role of innocent bystander cannot be under played, its hell out there. When your the only buffer for a woman who spends months feeling like a beached whale, its a thankless task let me tell you and your personal safety is not improved by asking her at bedtime why she's brought a beach ball.....
The beached whale thing is a source of great emotional fragility to a woman unused to it. Take Emily for example, normally a dainty delicate soul (some still terrified csas on Nadine's patch would faint at Emily being described as delicate) she has had to suffer her 'extra luggage' during peak summer season, however being a hardy soul she still manage the Isle of Wight festival, (Rumours that small children used her belly as shelter are believed to be untrue, further rumours that she break danced to JayZ are also unconfirmed), whereas your average bloke would be laid up from conception onwards! Bedridden and demanding, “ I cant go the pub with me mates like this, my ankles are all swollen and my nipples are well irritated!”.....also no doubt severely cursing young Charlie......
Obviously each pregnancy is different (I guess) but even my random experiences might prove helpful to anyone who cared to ask, such as the nursing bra incident. My daughter being 3 weeks early my other half was unprepared and, despite her better judgement and, probably still under the effects of gas, instructed yours truly to obtain a nursing bra! I think at the time I managed a neutral expression that didn't betray my lack of comprehension. The frazzled neurons of my brain heard bra and nurse in the same sentence and I, (somewhat feverishly), imagined we were going to play dressing up when we got home! A thought prompted probably by the distant memory of sex at this stage......O.k so it wasn't that distant but measure distant as someone who thinks about it every 37 seconds i.e. male..... and this wasn't what she meant at all....
I was vaguely aware that Argos were unlikely to do them and eventually realised that Mothercare might in fact be the place to obtain said nursing bra. I was horrified when it was explained to me...somewhat crankily I might add.....that this item was needed for leakage! Needless to say I managed to purchase a couple of them, with the help of a bemused Mothercare assistant......
“I need a bra....not for me, I mean a bra for someone else.....ummm its got a special name?....has to be leak proof if that's any help?...yes yes that's it a nurses bra ...I need a nurses bra!........size? ...ummm about this big.....” I didn't dare to glance at the assistant at this stage for the sake of comparison, thankfully realising how imprudent it would be to say something like, “a little smaller than yours”....
Random? Not BP!
We are living in fear of the M&S mystery customer after failing a
question on both our first two visits. Had the customers asked the
actual questions they were supposed to, we may have had a chance! The
first one fell to me, an elderly lady asking for guacamole, which I
showed her.....NOT according to the form where I'd apparently NOT
explained which ham was in the deli deal!
Liam had the pleasure of the second one when, too his shame, he failed to explain or upsell a promo deal that hadn't started yet! His psychic powers once again letting him down.
Since this we have all been on tenterhooks every time a customer asks for help to the point of getting annoying with our OTT customer service, being as both the first 2 customers were elderly ladies we are targeting geriatric customers, if they look confused all the better .... Liams even offered to do their ironing.......but the thing is, now when a customer interaction where I've been expressly helpful DOESN'T turn out to be the M&S mystery shopper I feel cheated and cheap!
We had 3x 5 litre screenwashes out back so with 2 in one hand one in the other I carried them out to the bunker, at the door I had to side step a gentleman who upon seeing my hand full remarked in a very camp way, “mmmm strong fingers” ! I believe myself to have gone beetroot red at this stage and could think of absolutely nothing to say in response. I only hope he wasn't the m&s mystery customer.
In the weird and wonderful world of bp S&V actions reveals that the corkscrews allocated to M&S stores are in fact classed as, 'potential offensive weapons'. I see this completely and imagine there are many many admissions to A&E daily whereby the patient has had the top of his head screwed off in an act of street brutality. “stand still you ******* I'm gonna unscrew your ********** head”
On opening up my most recent breakfast sausage muffin for purposes of saucing, I discovered instead of the usual 4 halves spread sadly across the muffin I in fact had 5! An extra for which I was not charged and, fearing disciplinary action I promptly discarded the extra half. T'would have been far too sausagey anyway.
I now worry however that some muffin customer somewhere will receive a muffin with half a sausage short and unless they use at least 4 packets of sauce the extra dryness of the muffin will seal their mouths shut for several agonising minutes. At least they wont be in a position to complain....
Imagine the casualty depts surprise if they get an unscrewed head followed by a muffin glued mouth?
Liam had the pleasure of the second one when, too his shame, he failed to explain or upsell a promo deal that hadn't started yet! His psychic powers once again letting him down.
Since this we have all been on tenterhooks every time a customer asks for help to the point of getting annoying with our OTT customer service, being as both the first 2 customers were elderly ladies we are targeting geriatric customers, if they look confused all the better .... Liams even offered to do their ironing.......but the thing is, now when a customer interaction where I've been expressly helpful DOESN'T turn out to be the M&S mystery shopper I feel cheated and cheap!
We had 3x 5 litre screenwashes out back so with 2 in one hand one in the other I carried them out to the bunker, at the door I had to side step a gentleman who upon seeing my hand full remarked in a very camp way, “mmmm strong fingers” ! I believe myself to have gone beetroot red at this stage and could think of absolutely nothing to say in response. I only hope he wasn't the m&s mystery customer.
In the weird and wonderful world of bp S&V actions reveals that the corkscrews allocated to M&S stores are in fact classed as, 'potential offensive weapons'. I see this completely and imagine there are many many admissions to A&E daily whereby the patient has had the top of his head screwed off in an act of street brutality. “stand still you ******* I'm gonna unscrew your ********** head”
On opening up my most recent breakfast sausage muffin for purposes of saucing, I discovered instead of the usual 4 halves spread sadly across the muffin I in fact had 5! An extra for which I was not charged and, fearing disciplinary action I promptly discarded the extra half. T'would have been far too sausagey anyway.
I now worry however that some muffin customer somewhere will receive a muffin with half a sausage short and unless they use at least 4 packets of sauce the extra dryness of the muffin will seal their mouths shut for several agonising minutes. At least they wont be in a position to complain....
Imagine the casualty depts surprise if they get an unscrewed head followed by a muffin glued mouth?
I Dream Again
There are many many people who believe there is hidden meaning in our dreams. A whole industry of books and magazines has built up around this supposed
phenomena. The strangest of your dreams can be explained by dream
experts to mean something completely different than the apparent theme.
Even the falling dream has an explanation although for the life of me i
can't remember what that might be.
Well anyway, after a dream I had, one I actually remembered when awake, I want to buy into all this tosh and have it explained because it sure as hell confused me.
Now this is 100% an actual dream and I can only wonder at its meaning...
Basically I get a job in a big house as an older woman's odd job guy, strange in itself as I have the odd job capabilities of your average mollusc. Now the lady in question is clearly an older woman but an attractive one and a feel of the dream is that this could be one of those dreams ....which, ahem, I have no difficulty understanding at all.... that make perfect sense, but as it transpires, it isn't and certainly doesn't.make any sense that is, what does transpire with an undercurrent of sexual chemistry, is that our lusty heroine asks me to mow the lawn, which of course as odd job man I am happy to do, she takes me to a shed, points out the sit on mower and leaves me to it. 5 minutes later I'm mowing the lawn sat on said mower which is, in fact, a like a small but perfectly formed..... boat! I kid you not, I spend a seeming eternity mowing the lawn in a bloody boat! Like Popeye the odd job man toot toot. So, dream readers, what does that mean then please? Am I perhaps suppressing a deep desire to sail the ocean waves or is that too literal?
Well anyway, after a dream I had, one I actually remembered when awake, I want to buy into all this tosh and have it explained because it sure as hell confused me.
Now this is 100% an actual dream and I can only wonder at its meaning...
Basically I get a job in a big house as an older woman's odd job guy, strange in itself as I have the odd job capabilities of your average mollusc. Now the lady in question is clearly an older woman but an attractive one and a feel of the dream is that this could be one of those dreams ....which, ahem, I have no difficulty understanding at all.... that make perfect sense, but as it transpires, it isn't and certainly doesn't.make any sense that is, what does transpire with an undercurrent of sexual chemistry, is that our lusty heroine asks me to mow the lawn, which of course as odd job man I am happy to do, she takes me to a shed, points out the sit on mower and leaves me to it. 5 minutes later I'm mowing the lawn sat on said mower which is, in fact, a like a small but perfectly formed..... boat! I kid you not, I spend a seeming eternity mowing the lawn in a bloody boat! Like Popeye the odd job man toot toot. So, dream readers, what does that mean then please? Am I perhaps suppressing a deep desire to sail the ocean waves or is that too literal?
The Candidate
With the hole now plugged I, and my fellow territory hsse champions, may
withdraw our offer of a safety huddle.....'spillages safety alert
no33'.... I am still willing however to fly to the gulf coast for bird
sponging duties. I'm good with birds and have my own drum of citra clean
ready, I could get through a fair few seagulls and....ummm... sea
pigeons in no time at all.(Someone might have to point out the ones that
are supposed to be black to prevent unfortunate over scrubbing)
I'm also very friendly with many Americans....in spite of my bp connections, they still talk to me.... and would be able to spread the bp message, "whats wrong little people, whats your problem,? Its a big bloody ocean isn't it?, lets get this nonsense sorted pronto I need a day off to go sailing.....not in this ocean i might add!"
Obviously my services would cost money and, with compensation costs rising daily, I have a second, cheaper,solution. Boy scouts, girl guides, brownies and cubs! Schools out for 6 weeks and they must have had their fill of jumble sales and helping old ladies, how about an American adventure instead?! Seaside camping, wildlife and free oil for their lamps! Brilliant. Convince them there's a badge in it as well and we wouldn't have to fork out a penny.
After all this becomes old news and things settle down I'd imagine bp will be in need of a new leader. A statesman like figure, gifted orator and all round good egg would steady the ship and I have to say I have been preparing my CV. I appreciate store manager to executive director would be a giant leap but why not? I'm a skilled SOC conversationalist and long term bp apologist...."look I'm sorry about your pay rise, the uniform, cost of petrol etc etc"
I'm also very friendly with many Americans....in spite of my bp connections, they still talk to me.... and would be able to spread the bp message, "whats wrong little people, whats your problem,? Its a big bloody ocean isn't it?, lets get this nonsense sorted pronto I need a day off to go sailing.....not in this ocean i might add!"
Obviously my services would cost money and, with compensation costs rising daily, I have a second, cheaper,solution. Boy scouts, girl guides, brownies and cubs! Schools out for 6 weeks and they must have had their fill of jumble sales and helping old ladies, how about an American adventure instead?! Seaside camping, wildlife and free oil for their lamps! Brilliant. Convince them there's a badge in it as well and we wouldn't have to fork out a penny.
After all this becomes old news and things settle down I'd imagine bp will be in need of a new leader. A statesman like figure, gifted orator and all round good egg would steady the ship and I have to say I have been preparing my CV. I appreciate store manager to executive director would be a giant leap but why not? I'm a skilled SOC conversationalist and long term bp apologist...."look I'm sorry about your pay rise, the uniform, cost of petrol etc etc"
Bibbie And Mr's Warsop
Without explanation the planned turn of 2010 change to our new training
supplier didn't happen. I can reveal now that the delay occurred due to
Bibbie and Jake! The powers that be could not decide on names for our
new training characters and so shelved the changeover while urgent
naming committees were initiated and long hours of discussion and debate
ensued.
Anyway, now at last the names have been chosen and we are green for go! Hurrah for Jake n' Bibbie. It is believed 'Jake' took the longest to choose as, obviously, Bibbie is so universal.
As you will see from your postcards, and boy haven't we had a lot? Bibbie and Jake are animated avatar type characters....Those of you not in store have missed out on this treat, virtually every morning we get a wish you were here postcard from Bibbie and Jake, I don't know where here is exactly but they love it! The postcards are a series of scenarios played out by Bibbie and Jake whereby one or the other needs help with the new system.
What worries me about all this is, a) they both seem equally confused, one day Bibbie asks Jake a dopey question the next Jake has (apparently) forgotten everything and consults Bibbie! and b) I fear with some considerable dread that when our people go online to train, Bibbie and Jake will be animated characters there to assist them! These could get a little tiresome and I for one don't want to be explaining to new starters why one is called Bibbie!
If they were going for an animated/avatar kind of thing why didn't they get one of those suits that capture live movement by a real person who then gets 'animated' on screen, they could then have used Mr's Warsop and Mike Read as our new training characters. I'd have dialled in to see that alone!
I fully support the idea of an animated Mr's Warsop guiding us to a training utopia and will be utilising a suggestion box should the new web site have one. Just think, if it worked out we could roll with it and have animated store managers on conference calls! Brendan from Bedworth for example is a very physical communicator and this is lost on a conference call, mike o has to keep checking he is awake, with an animated Brendan this would be unnecessary as he would be able to jabber away complete with his usual array of hand movements! (For those of you who don't know Brendan imagine Buzz Lightyear doing Oragami without any actual paper)
Of course animation doesn't come cheap but computer animation is cheaper AND we could do it ourselves, as with anything computer related we'd just pass it to Calum! I'm willing to bet he already has an animated Dawn with which to navigate the Fourways back office system.
( those of you on other territories or departments will have your very own Calum from Fourways)
Anyway, now at last the names have been chosen and we are green for go! Hurrah for Jake n' Bibbie. It is believed 'Jake' took the longest to choose as, obviously, Bibbie is so universal.
As you will see from your postcards, and boy haven't we had a lot? Bibbie and Jake are animated avatar type characters....Those of you not in store have missed out on this treat, virtually every morning we get a wish you were here postcard from Bibbie and Jake, I don't know where here is exactly but they love it! The postcards are a series of scenarios played out by Bibbie and Jake whereby one or the other needs help with the new system.
What worries me about all this is, a) they both seem equally confused, one day Bibbie asks Jake a dopey question the next Jake has (apparently) forgotten everything and consults Bibbie! and b) I fear with some considerable dread that when our people go online to train, Bibbie and Jake will be animated characters there to assist them! These could get a little tiresome and I for one don't want to be explaining to new starters why one is called Bibbie!
If they were going for an animated/avatar kind of thing why didn't they get one of those suits that capture live movement by a real person who then gets 'animated' on screen, they could then have used Mr's Warsop and Mike Read as our new training characters. I'd have dialled in to see that alone!
I fully support the idea of an animated Mr's Warsop guiding us to a training utopia and will be utilising a suggestion box should the new web site have one. Just think, if it worked out we could roll with it and have animated store managers on conference calls! Brendan from Bedworth for example is a very physical communicator and this is lost on a conference call, mike o has to keep checking he is awake, with an animated Brendan this would be unnecessary as he would be able to jabber away complete with his usual array of hand movements! (For those of you who don't know Brendan imagine Buzz Lightyear doing Oragami without any actual paper)
Of course animation doesn't come cheap but computer animation is cheaper AND we could do it ourselves, as with anything computer related we'd just pass it to Calum! I'm willing to bet he already has an animated Dawn with which to navigate the Fourways back office system.
( those of you on other territories or departments will have your very own Calum from Fourways)
The World 'Online'
I'm worried about the online security of our Bunzl accounts....it
doesn't keep me awake at night but its a niggle none the less....My
worry is that our accounts could be compromised based on our, far from
secure, account details.
The account name being more or less the site number with the password being those reversed hardly seems fail proof to me.
Hackers abound on the internet many of them able to crack complex codes, I fear that Bunzls would be child's play and therefore our consumable supply network would be at the mercy of malicious miscreants. Fair enough they're usually interested in bigger game than jumbo toilet rolls and hot food bags but nonetheless we should be wary.
I envisage turning up to work to find a Bunzl delivery spilling back on to the forecourt with oodles of consumable stock over ordered to excess and barriers aplenty forming trip hazards to one and all.
What if said hackers go mad with my account and order several of everything that I don't need and wont run out of until 2014?...... Hang on a minute that's exactly what my management team order NOW.....o.k. panic over, the hackers couldn't possibly order worse!
Anybody need any suspension files? no? Forecourt towels? no? years supply of Jumbo, yet see through, toilet roll?
The account name being more or less the site number with the password being those reversed hardly seems fail proof to me.
Hackers abound on the internet many of them able to crack complex codes, I fear that Bunzls would be child's play and therefore our consumable supply network would be at the mercy of malicious miscreants. Fair enough they're usually interested in bigger game than jumbo toilet rolls and hot food bags but nonetheless we should be wary.
I envisage turning up to work to find a Bunzl delivery spilling back on to the forecourt with oodles of consumable stock over ordered to excess and barriers aplenty forming trip hazards to one and all.
What if said hackers go mad with my account and order several of everything that I don't need and wont run out of until 2014?...... Hang on a minute that's exactly what my management team order NOW.....o.k. panic over, the hackers couldn't possibly order worse!
Anybody need any suspension files? no? Forecourt towels? no? years supply of Jumbo, yet see through, toilet roll?
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