Ok, so this is my 4th day now at my new job and so far so good. It was all very strange when i first started - new surroundings, new journey to work, new staff ect but i'm starting to feel more settled now. The thing i didn't realise is how small my company. Only 3 permanent members of staff and a few consultants that deliver training elsewhere. Although the office is relatively big, the premises are predominantly for Park Royal Partnership staff, which is the company that owns ours.
The role looks like it will be really good. I'm going to be in charge of updating the website with different features, writing material for the leaflets/fliers etc and there will be some financial duties as well such as dealing with invoices and monthly claim figures. The whole set up here is far more professional. JGA was a shithole in comparison, where you could happily laugh, joke and play pranks all day. I kind of miss that, but it had gone very stale there and it was definitely time to move on. I've been so tired in the evenings. Each day's been pretty taxing on the mind, learning all this new stuff so i've been falling asleep by about 9 o'clock!
On a seperate note i went to the Lowlands comedy night last saturday. It wasn't as good as the year before where i'd gone with Alex. The reason to mention this night is because one of the comedians fell completely flat. It was a young women, but she totally fucked up the first joke through nerves and stuttered over her words which affected the timing of the punchline. After that it was hell, really embarrasing with no laughter, not even a murmer. It was a shame and i felt sorry for her as she might have been better received had her start been more confident and assured. I'd have fucked her too. Should have offered a shoulder to cry on...
There's RE bent tonight, but i've no idea of what heads are going. Tomorrow is good as i'm the only one in, so they'll be plenty of time to fuck about and try and secure some oasis tickets for Wembley stadium next summer
Thursday, 23 October 2008
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
In Limbo
I'm in a funny situation at work now. With only 7 days remaining until i leave i'm finding that not only is my mentallity and approach different but also my colleagues. People aren't giving me work because there's the danger it won't get done in time, and in general i am far less involved in things. I thought being able to doss like this would be fun, but its actually wearing a bit thin now. I'm bored of going on the same websites all the time and the days seem very long. I also feel guilty that other people are working flat out, rushing round the office, whilst i'm looking at images of famous freaks on google.
I'm back in the game now, though i don't think i ever really was properly before. I made the silly mistake of over training and not allowing muscle recovery or growth, plus i didn't eat anywhere near the required amount to visibly see results. Anyhow after research etc, i feel more prepared this time around and with J and Daz back in the game too, hopefully i'll feel compelled to keep it going.
Last saturday we went to Camden for J's birthday. I'd been to Camden once before, where i went to a place called Underground. I thought it was dog shit, but this time around it was much, much better. We started in the Lock, which was a cool bar, hidden round the back. Everyone started to get buttied, necking yaygerbombers(Sp!) and other awful drinks, peering into girls bossoms and getting snapped with celebs. Unfortunately the group got split withe J, Saaaym, Daz and D going to The Worlds end and the rest of us ending up in the Electric Ballroom. Because the place was so big, for large quantities of the night we all spent long periods of time on our own which was strange, but it was a decent night all the same.
This post is probably a real let down, following on from a post that covered Tenerife and all the funny moments from then. I feel pretty empty headed actually.
I'm back in the game now, though i don't think i ever really was properly before. I made the silly mistake of over training and not allowing muscle recovery or growth, plus i didn't eat anywhere near the required amount to visibly see results. Anyhow after research etc, i feel more prepared this time around and with J and Daz back in the game too, hopefully i'll feel compelled to keep it going.
Last saturday we went to Camden for J's birthday. I'd been to Camden once before, where i went to a place called Underground. I thought it was dog shit, but this time around it was much, much better. We started in the Lock, which was a cool bar, hidden round the back. Everyone started to get buttied, necking yaygerbombers(Sp!) and other awful drinks, peering into girls bossoms and getting snapped with celebs. Unfortunately the group got split withe J, Saaaym, Daz and D going to The Worlds end and the rest of us ending up in the Electric Ballroom. Because the place was so big, for large quantities of the night we all spent long periods of time on our own which was strange, but it was a decent night all the same.
This post is probably a real let down, following on from a post that covered Tenerife and all the funny moments from then. I feel pretty empty headed actually.
Friday, 26 September 2008
Tenerife
I haven't posted for a while. A long while really, considering the title of my last post was 'Olympics'. Anyway, its been a couple of weeks since we got back from Tenerife and i thought it would be funny to reflect on some of the banter. Like Abbas did, i'll pick random things that i found funny, perhaps not the obvious, classic stories and ones that haven't been blogged yet. here goes:
1. Balcony antics - There were various moments during our time on the balcony that must have really fucked the neighbours off! All of us doing loud hand clapping, loud singing at the top of our voices, me j and al doing some sort of weird group dance and being caught, talking about rape, al pretending to have sex with the yellow ball and being caught, gary wanking over the edge!!
2. Lesree Rideout - urgh. This was living proof of how our banter can just go to waste sometimes. During the quiz at the restaurant they were playing snippets of songs/tv progs etc and you had to identify what it was. They played Coronation Street, so Al quipped 'Isn't that the national anthem' to which lesree replied 'no it aint, durr, are you mates fick or someink'.
3. Moments of embarrasment Part 1- As Al touched upon it in his blog, we got stopped by a rep on a motorbike and we had to endure all the usual claptrap of 'oh there's gonna be some fanny and some fat ones, free drinks, tickets going fast' and why the guy couldn't sense that we weren't interested is beyond belief. When he finally asked if we were interested, Al replied 'Monday i'm.....' and massive silence followed!! haha, this happened whilst Gary was staring at the palm tree, j doing hos trademark unimpressed expression and me kicking a stray leaf on the ground. Gary later confessed that he said the name of our hotlel, because the embarrasment was unbearable!
Part 2 - At the Aiport on the way home, having joked about seeing the Rideouts and what would happen, it actually ended up happening. The four of us were chilling, reading and listening to music, when out of the corner of my eye i saw them. They had actually seeked us out and before you knew it they perched themselves next to us. J put a hoody on and pretended to go to sleep, whilst laura was scrutinising his every movement, looking for any sign of him waking. When Al 'woke' him up J said 'Oh hi, i didn't realise you girls were here otherwise i would have stayed awake'.
4. On the second night, me and Gary were walking back and we somehow lost Al and J even though we were walking together. I, for no apparent reason stopped on the side of the road and was just staring blankly ahead and started to stroke a cactus! I did this 2-3 times even though it hurt each time and woke the next morning with thorns in my palm.
There are so many other funny moments, but i'll end my post with some funny quotes.
'Hi, It's me'
'What, so all you're doing is drinking? Oh come on guys, its Tenerife not fucking Blackpool'
'What does again mean?'
'Read all about it, read all about it, Theo Walcott murdered Jill Dando'
'OH FUCK OFF! McDonalds is open'
'Do you wanna leg it from the taxi?' (Gary, inside the cab)
'Burp, eeeuuurrrgggghhh'
I don't really feel i've done the holiday justice, so many funny things happened, but its impossible to remember. Which is why its good when you reflect on it with the other heads, as everyone remembers different things.
1. Balcony antics - There were various moments during our time on the balcony that must have really fucked the neighbours off! All of us doing loud hand clapping, loud singing at the top of our voices, me j and al doing some sort of weird group dance and being caught, talking about rape, al pretending to have sex with the yellow ball and being caught, gary wanking over the edge!!
2. Lesree Rideout - urgh. This was living proof of how our banter can just go to waste sometimes. During the quiz at the restaurant they were playing snippets of songs/tv progs etc and you had to identify what it was. They played Coronation Street, so Al quipped 'Isn't that the national anthem' to which lesree replied 'no it aint, durr, are you mates fick or someink'.
3. Moments of embarrasment Part 1- As Al touched upon it in his blog, we got stopped by a rep on a motorbike and we had to endure all the usual claptrap of 'oh there's gonna be some fanny and some fat ones, free drinks, tickets going fast' and why the guy couldn't sense that we weren't interested is beyond belief. When he finally asked if we were interested, Al replied 'Monday i'm.....' and massive silence followed!! haha, this happened whilst Gary was staring at the palm tree, j doing hos trademark unimpressed expression and me kicking a stray leaf on the ground. Gary later confessed that he said the name of our hotlel, because the embarrasment was unbearable!
Part 2 - At the Aiport on the way home, having joked about seeing the Rideouts and what would happen, it actually ended up happening. The four of us were chilling, reading and listening to music, when out of the corner of my eye i saw them. They had actually seeked us out and before you knew it they perched themselves next to us. J put a hoody on and pretended to go to sleep, whilst laura was scrutinising his every movement, looking for any sign of him waking. When Al 'woke' him up J said 'Oh hi, i didn't realise you girls were here otherwise i would have stayed awake'.
4. On the second night, me and Gary were walking back and we somehow lost Al and J even though we were walking together. I, for no apparent reason stopped on the side of the road and was just staring blankly ahead and started to stroke a cactus! I did this 2-3 times even though it hurt each time and woke the next morning with thorns in my palm.
There are so many other funny moments, but i'll end my post with some funny quotes.
'Hi, It's me'
'What, so all you're doing is drinking? Oh come on guys, its Tenerife not fucking Blackpool'
'What does again mean?'
'Read all about it, read all about it, Theo Walcott murdered Jill Dando'
'OH FUCK OFF! McDonalds is open'
'Do you wanna leg it from the taxi?' (Gary, inside the cab)
'Burp, eeeuuurrrgggghhh'
I don't really feel i've done the holiday justice, so many funny things happened, but its impossible to remember. Which is why its good when you reflect on it with the other heads, as everyone remembers different things.
Monday, 18 August 2008
Olympics
Great Britain in 3rd place in the medals tally? 'Oh shut up you berk' would be the answer you'd expect. But we are indeed in that position and even more remarkably, it could have been better. It's quite refreshing to see us dominate in certian sports like the Cycling, Sailing and Rowing. So often we've been 2nd best to Nations, far smaller and poorer than we are, with the media gripping onto the hope that maybe one athlete would be able to bring a medal home. We were world class at getting bronze, but now it seems that's just not good enough anymore.
I listened to an interview on the radio the other day and they were saying how some British athlete's are actually gutted with getting silvers. The womens 4 in the rowing were speechless and it seems like an Australian-like grit and determination has been instille, whereby the previous English philosophy of taking part is no longer acceptable.
The Chinese have taken things even further. I read that their trap shooter was bollocked for coming third. The interviewer posed questions like 'You must be dissapointed with that', 'You only scored 7.8 in round one, explain why that was', until the guy eventually succcumbed to the interogation, admitting that he'd 'let the nation down'. poor sod.
Occasionally on the bbc round up they will finish with funny outakes from the Olympics, that you ordinarily wouldn't see or notice. I will relay the ones i can remember that made me chuckle:
1. A trampolinist that just jumped up and down, didn't attempt any twist, or flips. nothing. The judges actually asked him to stop!
2. A 33 stone Judo wrestler, who had all his gut spilling out. How the fuck are you supposed to throw him over!
3. A women 1500 metre runner, who gets tarted up before each race. Mascara, lipstick, eye shadow, the lot. strange. Maybe she wants a bit of Brendon Foster inside her.
I listened to an interview on the radio the other day and they were saying how some British athlete's are actually gutted with getting silvers. The womens 4 in the rowing were speechless and it seems like an Australian-like grit and determination has been instille, whereby the previous English philosophy of taking part is no longer acceptable.
The Chinese have taken things even further. I read that their trap shooter was bollocked for coming third. The interviewer posed questions like 'You must be dissapointed with that', 'You only scored 7.8 in round one, explain why that was', until the guy eventually succcumbed to the interogation, admitting that he'd 'let the nation down'. poor sod.
Occasionally on the bbc round up they will finish with funny outakes from the Olympics, that you ordinarily wouldn't see or notice. I will relay the ones i can remember that made me chuckle:
1. A trampolinist that just jumped up and down, didn't attempt any twist, or flips. nothing. The judges actually asked him to stop!
2. A 33 stone Judo wrestler, who had all his gut spilling out. How the fuck are you supposed to throw him over!
3. A women 1500 metre runner, who gets tarted up before each race. Mascara, lipstick, eye shadow, the lot. strange. Maybe she wants a bit of Brendon Foster inside her.
Sunday, 10 August 2008
New football season
Thank god its arrived! I've spent numerous days at work pressing the F5 button on the message boards, being addicted to the rumours of which players are coming/going and now thankfully the silly season has finished and we're down to the nitty gritty. Normally you associate the 1st game of the season with scorching temperatures, fans wearing their new shirts sitting outside the pubs in fine voice. Yesterday however was quite the opposite and felt like any other game. The miserable weather, the lack of fans around(probably owing to the fact that i forgot the season tickets and had to go back home making us later than normal) made the whole occassion seem altogether quite strange. The match was preceded with elaborate, over the top fireworks and flames and the prevailing mist gave it quite an Italian like feel. In typical QPR fashion, with the expectation and anticipation surrounding us this season we went 1-0 down after 4 mins. I won't bore you with all the details of the match, but the game nearly ended with our centre back getting a hatrick. weird.
I helped the 4th team get promoted last thursday. I felt quite under pressure actually, considering it was my 1st match with them and they needed 14 points to get promotion. I didn't want to be the cunt that fucked up a whole seasons worth of work for the rest of them that had played in each game and have to avoid the cutting, sarcy remarks from Ian and Colin afterwards. I was playing with bum boy vic Butler and it was draining to say the least. Particular comments included 'keep it in play and wait for them to make a mistake', '3 out of 4 is glory mate. Go for the glory mate'. Hardly Vic. I'd associate glory with winning the world cup, breaking the 100 metre world record or winning all 4 slams in one year, not winning a couple of sets against Harrow Baptist. Talking of Harrow Baptist, my god they were bad. Considering they are in the division above what i have been playing this year with the 5ths they were fucking toilet. This isn't meant to sound arrogant, but i actually felt bored out there, so if that is any sort of reflection or indication of what to expect next year, then we've got little to worry about.
I went to Camden last night. It was shit. There's been a recurring theme to my blogs where i reflect on a place i've been to that i knew was going to be pants, and yet still decided to go, against my better judgement. Though it is a lively place during the day with the market, at night it is quite soulless and characterless. The place we ended up in was full of these goth like gouls and emo sadists and me and my mate Wise were described by one as dressing pretentiously. I felt really out of place and wished i were in soho or covent garden.
I helped the 4th team get promoted last thursday. I felt quite under pressure actually, considering it was my 1st match with them and they needed 14 points to get promotion. I didn't want to be the cunt that fucked up a whole seasons worth of work for the rest of them that had played in each game and have to avoid the cutting, sarcy remarks from Ian and Colin afterwards. I was playing with bum boy vic Butler and it was draining to say the least. Particular comments included 'keep it in play and wait for them to make a mistake', '3 out of 4 is glory mate. Go for the glory mate'. Hardly Vic. I'd associate glory with winning the world cup, breaking the 100 metre world record or winning all 4 slams in one year, not winning a couple of sets against Harrow Baptist. Talking of Harrow Baptist, my god they were bad. Considering they are in the division above what i have been playing this year with the 5ths they were fucking toilet. This isn't meant to sound arrogant, but i actually felt bored out there, so if that is any sort of reflection or indication of what to expect next year, then we've got little to worry about.
I went to Camden last night. It was shit. There's been a recurring theme to my blogs where i reflect on a place i've been to that i knew was going to be pants, and yet still decided to go, against my better judgement. Though it is a lively place during the day with the market, at night it is quite soulless and characterless. The place we ended up in was full of these goth like gouls and emo sadists and me and my mate Wise were described by one as dressing pretentiously. I felt really out of place and wished i were in soho or covent garden.
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Promotion
The 5th team got promoted last night. We needed 14 points to secure it and thats exactly what we did, winning 14-10. It was a difficult match, but probably the most enjoyable, because they were all attacking players and it was good tennis from both teams. I thought it was all going to go tits up though, breaking a string in the 2nd game of the 1st match. Luckily, the racket i borrowed was similiar to mine. My form is good at the moment, which is why it's a shame that the season is now over. I'm looking forward to next season, though it will obviously be a sterner test.
I saw Batman last week. It's a really good film and deserves all the acolades and credit it has already received. I'm glad they didn't decide to scrap showing the film because of Heath ledger's death. What a fucking stupid idea.
I went to london on Saturday night for Gareth and Chris' birthday. We started off in the slug and lettuce and completely took over the place. The group consisted of the usual heads, Chris' uni friends; Gareth's uni/course mates and his brother and his mates. Good banter it were too, with the conversation flitting between the LDC, different moods/types of wanking and offensive football chants. We then headed to Roxy, which is an underground bar/club type place, which played some quality music and offered some reasonably priced boozed. Me and Gareth hooked up with a couple of blonde girls. I've texted mine in the hope of meeting for a drink(maybe a double date), but i'm yet to receive a reply. There's so many unwritten rules/ettiquete involved in when to text, when to expect a reply etc. I'll actually be quite dissapointed if she doesn't reply, she seemed like a really nice girl and she was attractive too.
I saw Batman last week. It's a really good film and deserves all the acolades and credit it has already received. I'm glad they didn't decide to scrap showing the film because of Heath ledger's death. What a fucking stupid idea.
I went to london on Saturday night for Gareth and Chris' birthday. We started off in the slug and lettuce and completely took over the place. The group consisted of the usual heads, Chris' uni friends; Gareth's uni/course mates and his brother and his mates. Good banter it were too, with the conversation flitting between the LDC, different moods/types of wanking and offensive football chants. We then headed to Roxy, which is an underground bar/club type place, which played some quality music and offered some reasonably priced boozed. Me and Gareth hooked up with a couple of blonde girls. I've texted mine in the hope of meeting for a drink(maybe a double date), but i'm yet to receive a reply. There's so many unwritten rules/ettiquete involved in when to text, when to expect a reply etc. I'll actually be quite dissapointed if she doesn't reply, she seemed like a really nice girl and she was attractive too.
Sunday, 27 July 2008
Bournmouth
Last weekend i went to Bournmouth with 11 other guys from the tennis club. Its an annual tour, but it was my first so i was curious as to what sort of stuff went on. I'll bullet point funny moments, things of significance:
-The prosperous and the vagabonds: one of the resounding things i'll remeber from the trip is how rich some of the other guys are and how nonchelent they were with their money. Now with my mates, if you owe someone a drink, even as little as say 40p, they won't let you forget. You'll be chased to the end of the earth for it. At Bourmouth literally everything was paid for-lunch, drinks, lap dances, you name it. On one occassion Will came up to the younger gang(me j and Al) asked if we wanted drinks, got the drinks, brought them back, then fucked off! Another funny moment was Nev on the saturday morning almost irritatingly dismissing J's guilt for inadvertently and mistakingly racking up a £120 lap dance bill by saying 'we're not 5 year olds anymore, we can afford these things down to the manor'.
-The sexual deviants: two funny incidents. 1. all the others had gone down to the beach and j and i decided that before we would follow suit, a bit of tuggy fun was needed. so we went our seperate ways and in the room i thought i'd have a nice lazy one. Feeling uninspired i got Nev's business magazine, managed to find a business lady showing a bit of leg on one of the pages, and waited for the fun to commence. Suddenly the door went. FUCK! i scrambled off the bed, barely able to pull my trousers up and decided to cower on the floor, partly to cover and shield my watsit. Nev then quizzickly asked 'lost something there mate' 'yeah i can't seem to find my wallet'. Bearing in mind my wallet was on my bedside table, with nothing else remotely near it to obscure it, it was possibly the worst thing i could have said to dampen his suspision. I then feebly retorted, 'oh there it is' nervously laughing, trying to do my belt up at Nev's every turn of head.
2. Nev and J went into the Pier suite which J and Alex were sharing. Alex, who obviously thought it would be either just J, or at the most the two of us coming in decided to perch himself on the floor just in his boxers in some sort of weird position. Nev came out of the room shaking his head and rolling his eyes saying, 'that Alex is a weird one, is he some sort of sexual deviant?'
All that sounds quite weird! but apart from that there was the usual laddish banter, we went to the beach and played boules, we lounged in the park, we went to the casino, lap dancing club, we got pissed and danced, we swam, played a bit of tennis. All in all a great weekend and a funny 1st visit.(so many other funny moments, but its too much to digress in one fell swoop of writing)
-The prosperous and the vagabonds: one of the resounding things i'll remeber from the trip is how rich some of the other guys are and how nonchelent they were with their money. Now with my mates, if you owe someone a drink, even as little as say 40p, they won't let you forget. You'll be chased to the end of the earth for it. At Bourmouth literally everything was paid for-lunch, drinks, lap dances, you name it. On one occassion Will came up to the younger gang(me j and Al) asked if we wanted drinks, got the drinks, brought them back, then fucked off! Another funny moment was Nev on the saturday morning almost irritatingly dismissing J's guilt for inadvertently and mistakingly racking up a £120 lap dance bill by saying 'we're not 5 year olds anymore, we can afford these things down to the manor'.
-The sexual deviants: two funny incidents. 1. all the others had gone down to the beach and j and i decided that before we would follow suit, a bit of tuggy fun was needed. so we went our seperate ways and in the room i thought i'd have a nice lazy one. Feeling uninspired i got Nev's business magazine, managed to find a business lady showing a bit of leg on one of the pages, and waited for the fun to commence. Suddenly the door went. FUCK! i scrambled off the bed, barely able to pull my trousers up and decided to cower on the floor, partly to cover and shield my watsit. Nev then quizzickly asked 'lost something there mate' 'yeah i can't seem to find my wallet'. Bearing in mind my wallet was on my bedside table, with nothing else remotely near it to obscure it, it was possibly the worst thing i could have said to dampen his suspision. I then feebly retorted, 'oh there it is' nervously laughing, trying to do my belt up at Nev's every turn of head.
2. Nev and J went into the Pier suite which J and Alex were sharing. Alex, who obviously thought it would be either just J, or at the most the two of us coming in decided to perch himself on the floor just in his boxers in some sort of weird position. Nev came out of the room shaking his head and rolling his eyes saying, 'that Alex is a weird one, is he some sort of sexual deviant?'
All that sounds quite weird! but apart from that there was the usual laddish banter, we went to the beach and played boules, we lounged in the park, we went to the casino, lap dancing club, we got pissed and danced, we swam, played a bit of tennis. All in all a great weekend and a funny 1st visit.(so many other funny moments, but its too much to digress in one fell swoop of writing)
Monday, 14 July 2008
I didn't get the Pres and Publications job at QPR. I got an email late last week to say that after serious consideration i was unsuccesful on this occasion. great. I feel gutted, it actually was my dream job. I would have thoroughly enjoyed it, combining my passion for QPR and writing and earning which i'm sure would have been a decent salary. I think the fact that they wanted a years media experience probably counted against me in the end.
I played tennis last week and won. I was partnered with Dickie, who is a fully fledged 6th team player but had to fill in at short notice because Matt Graham dropped out. I had my reservations and although i'd openly criticised such players on my blog previously(bad technique etc) we managed to win 3 out of 4 and the combination worked very well. It can have a calming influence playing with an experienced head and they're very effective at keeping your spirits up, which i've failed to do myself on occasions. I have to say i LOVE the claytex surface at Moss Lane. Personally I hope all 6 courts at Lowlands have this surface as it suits my game the most. Tarmac is too bouncy, the astro is too skiddy and low, but claytex is somewhere in between.
Lastly, i went to Liquid in Uxbridge on Saturday. Why? fuck knows. Some had described it as amazing, others went as far to say it was super dooper. I probably wouldn't be as generous, with my choice word being gash, which is far more ample and fitting. For £8 you get scowling chavs, sweaty tarts and a tiny bowl shaped dancefloor. It felt like a Bishopshalt reunion too, having to make polite conversation with people who you didn't like at school and still don't now.
I played tennis last week and won. I was partnered with Dickie, who is a fully fledged 6th team player but had to fill in at short notice because Matt Graham dropped out. I had my reservations and although i'd openly criticised such players on my blog previously(bad technique etc) we managed to win 3 out of 4 and the combination worked very well. It can have a calming influence playing with an experienced head and they're very effective at keeping your spirits up, which i've failed to do myself on occasions. I have to say i LOVE the claytex surface at Moss Lane. Personally I hope all 6 courts at Lowlands have this surface as it suits my game the most. Tarmac is too bouncy, the astro is too skiddy and low, but claytex is somewhere in between.
Lastly, i went to Liquid in Uxbridge on Saturday. Why? fuck knows. Some had described it as amazing, others went as far to say it was super dooper. I probably wouldn't be as generous, with my choice word being gash, which is far more ample and fitting. For £8 you get scowling chavs, sweaty tarts and a tiny bowl shaped dancefloor. It felt like a Bishopshalt reunion too, having to make polite conversation with people who you didn't like at school and still don't now.
Monday, 7 July 2008
Petanque champion and 'that' final
I went to the annual Lowlands 'summer' bbq on saturday. Aside from the manky weather, there was a shit load of drink consumed and some top notch bent. Although the attendance wasn't as high as in previous years(probably a result of the weather), the bar seemed to fill nicely in the evening and there was a good atmosphere. J has done an excellent in depth report on his blog, so i won't reiterate everything that happened though there were some funny moments that weren't mentioned that i'll add:
1. drunken bent at the end of the night results in Daz doing a seedy, disturbing video describing how 'Joseph Fritzel did what was necessary' and how he 'knew where Madelaine Mcann was'.
2. Covey and Christina having a ketchup fight
3. Daz playing the important Petanque final with his hand in his pocket.
4. Completely fucking up the kids court with glass and spilt beer. Pwopa Millwall!
5. Covey declaring that he thought Laura Robson was quite fit, to then hastily detract his comment after realising her age.
Well, what can you say about the mens final. It had everything - drama, tension, rain delays, saved match points, missed opportunities. I can't remember feeling so nervous and as a result so drained watching a tennis match. The two of them have the potential to create the best rivalry ever, like the good old days with Sampras against Agassi. Aside from the match i've almost been more impressed by how they conduct themselves off the court.
Rafa: Though he can appear slightly sullen on court, combined with his caveman like appearance, i found it quite suprising that he is actually quite shy and unassuming hearing him interviewed a couple of years ago for the first time. After winning Queens he went home to the village where he grew up to go fishing with his dad. When interviewed by Sue Barker after the match yesterday, he was almost embarrased and apologetic towards Roger, stating that Roger was still number one with only 1 title to his 5. It wasn't the usual cliched acceptance speech(thanking the sponsors, fans etc) the responses were genuine and instinctive.
Roger: I really enjoyed watching the documentary on him during the rain delays. It really hit home that no matter what happens to him now, what he's achieved is unbelievable. It was inetersting to see how popular he was with the press, which is not an easy feat. Apparently he was willing to do a whole interview again with a radio station when the interviewer realised the recorder wasn't working and regularly asks the press questions at a press conference, even though he is not obliged to. Furthermore he donates a huge proportion of his fortune to the charity that he set up in Africa, making many personal visits out there and seems to have the respect of the whole dressing room.
Bye for now
1. drunken bent at the end of the night results in Daz doing a seedy, disturbing video describing how 'Joseph Fritzel did what was necessary' and how he 'knew where Madelaine Mcann was'.
2. Covey and Christina having a ketchup fight
3. Daz playing the important Petanque final with his hand in his pocket.
4. Completely fucking up the kids court with glass and spilt beer. Pwopa Millwall!
5. Covey declaring that he thought Laura Robson was quite fit, to then hastily detract his comment after realising her age.
Well, what can you say about the mens final. It had everything - drama, tension, rain delays, saved match points, missed opportunities. I can't remember feeling so nervous and as a result so drained watching a tennis match. The two of them have the potential to create the best rivalry ever, like the good old days with Sampras against Agassi. Aside from the match i've almost been more impressed by how they conduct themselves off the court.
Rafa: Though he can appear slightly sullen on court, combined with his caveman like appearance, i found it quite suprising that he is actually quite shy and unassuming hearing him interviewed a couple of years ago for the first time. After winning Queens he went home to the village where he grew up to go fishing with his dad. When interviewed by Sue Barker after the match yesterday, he was almost embarrased and apologetic towards Roger, stating that Roger was still number one with only 1 title to his 5. It wasn't the usual cliched acceptance speech(thanking the sponsors, fans etc) the responses were genuine and instinctive.
Roger: I really enjoyed watching the documentary on him during the rain delays. It really hit home that no matter what happens to him now, what he's achieved is unbelievable. It was inetersting to see how popular he was with the press, which is not an easy feat. Apparently he was willing to do a whole interview again with a radio station when the interviewer realised the recorder wasn't working and regularly asks the press questions at a press conference, even though he is not obliged to. Furthermore he donates a huge proportion of his fortune to the charity that he set up in Africa, making many personal visits out there and seems to have the respect of the whole dressing room.
Bye for now
Monday, 30 June 2008
London
Had a disastrous journey back from London on Saturday night. I won't regurgitate all the details, but having got to the station at 12 with Wise we ended up almost being stranded up there because of delayed trains/trains leaving ahead of schedule/the two of us getting on different trains. It was a real gut wrenching moment being told by the one of the train attendants at the station that it 'would be very difficult to get back to Uxbridge now'. Luckily severe delays on the Hammersmith and City line meant we could get to Hammersmith and get a taxi back from there. I just don't understand why they can't run later trains just for Friday and Saturday nights.
I hadn't been to London for a while, but my god there are some eccentrics up there. On the train back there was a deaf man dressed as a lady, with a bright green dress and pink floral hat. Not only this but he started to swing from the bars that you hold onto with his arse swinging in shocked peoples faces. People started to take photo's and video's, whooping and clapping his every daft movement. It was wierd. Really weird.
Other than that i went to the tennis club on Monday to watch Nails play in the 6th team match. It was nice watching someone with the classic action and technique, which coulnd't be said for many of the other players on show. I had tried to give Nails a warm up the day before but i was hampered by a chronic bout of golfers elbow. Its probably the worst i've had it and we had to stop our game prematurely after only 20 mins. Even the robocop style strap didn't help!
Lastly i have found the dream job. QPR are advertsing for a Press and Publications officer which entails writing for the official website, writing for the quaterly magazine and undertaking maketing duties, promoting the brand etc. This fits in quite nicely with my qualifications and experience so i'm very excited. This would be major bent.
I hadn't been to London for a while, but my god there are some eccentrics up there. On the train back there was a deaf man dressed as a lady, with a bright green dress and pink floral hat. Not only this but he started to swing from the bars that you hold onto with his arse swinging in shocked peoples faces. People started to take photo's and video's, whooping and clapping his every daft movement. It was wierd. Really weird.
Other than that i went to the tennis club on Monday to watch Nails play in the 6th team match. It was nice watching someone with the classic action and technique, which coulnd't be said for many of the other players on show. I had tried to give Nails a warm up the day before but i was hampered by a chronic bout of golfers elbow. Its probably the worst i've had it and we had to stop our game prematurely after only 20 mins. Even the robocop style strap didn't help!
Lastly i have found the dream job. QPR are advertsing for a Press and Publications officer which entails writing for the official website, writing for the quaterly magazine and undertaking maketing duties, promoting the brand etc. This fits in quite nicely with my qualifications and experience so i'm very excited. This would be major bent.
Friday, 27 June 2008
That friday feeling
Friday's are simply a right off in the working world. People are tired, restless and busy planning the night/weekend ahead. There's been quite a lot of larking around in the office today. It was a guy called Chris' birthday and the ususal, expected thing is for the birthday boy/girl to bring in cakes for everyone. Well Chris, being a stubborn, miserble git decided to break this trend and bring in nothing, no battenburg or trifle in sight. So me and a few others cut out some pictures of cakes, put them on a plate with a message reading 'thanks for the card, help yourselves to the cakes. Chris'
Our team ended up losing the tennis. Luckily Ben pulled out so i played with James, which i was happy about. Somehow, and i still don't know how, we lost all 4 sets. (6-4/6-4/7-5/7-5). We both played reasonably well, playing tennis the way it should be played and yet had nothing to show for it. Aside from the 1st match which i had no qualms about, the others were lost to guys who were about a hundred, with horrible styles and techniques and yet in the most unorthodox of ways won and beat us. One particular moment triggered a lot of noise from the crowd huddled under the varander and summoned up the night. The ball popped up to me at the net, i lashed it at the player opposite me who had already turned his back and given up on the point only to see the ball ping of the frame of his racket that was hanging down by his side and plop over the net. wanker.
Thats all for now
Our team ended up losing the tennis. Luckily Ben pulled out so i played with James, which i was happy about. Somehow, and i still don't know how, we lost all 4 sets. (6-4/6-4/7-5/7-5). We both played reasonably well, playing tennis the way it should be played and yet had nothing to show for it. Aside from the 1st match which i had no qualms about, the others were lost to guys who were about a hundred, with horrible styles and techniques and yet in the most unorthodox of ways won and beat us. One particular moment triggered a lot of noise from the crowd huddled under the varander and summoned up the night. The ball popped up to me at the net, i lashed it at the player opposite me who had already turned his back and given up on the point only to see the ball ping of the frame of his racket that was hanging down by his side and plop over the net. wanker.
Thats all for now
Thursday, 26 June 2008
Blogging it up
Well it's been a good few months since my last post. I'm dissapointed in myself in that i didn't keep it going very regularly, after a promising start in my blogging career. I have a bit more freedom now that my marketing course has finished, so i hope to write more frequently.
Yesterday i went to Wimbledon. It was nice to break up the working week and get some fresh air, as JGA is renowned for its dungeon like atmosphere. Luckily we had court one tickets, so we scooted past the poor sods in the queue that had camped out on the pavement in the off chance of getting a show court ticket. It was odd but very funny how some people paid £2 to get on the bus, to realise that the bus was for ticket holders, having to get off where the queue started, which must have only been a 20 yard trip.
We saw some good matches. Ivanovic won 10-8 in the last, in what was possibly the longest women's match i've seen, saving two match points along the way. She's smoking hot too, so its good she's still in the tournament, otherwise we'd have to resort to staring at Mauresmo's scabby, hairy legs for our kicks. The other matches saw Bhagdatis and Ferrer go through with relative ease, so there were no major upsets on our court.
I'm playing tennis myself tonight in a match against the other Lowlands team. My game is frustrating me at the moment. I seem to hit the ball really well in practice, but can't replicate it during the match. I think nerves have something to do with it, which is a shame. I'm hoping our captain won't pair me and Ben together. We don't play well together at all and the last match saw us effing and blinding, feeling sorry for ourselves. The bad blood from last season seems to have subsided with the mixing around of players this year, which is probably the reason why a shapla dinner awaits us afterwards.
Yesterday i went to Wimbledon. It was nice to break up the working week and get some fresh air, as JGA is renowned for its dungeon like atmosphere. Luckily we had court one tickets, so we scooted past the poor sods in the queue that had camped out on the pavement in the off chance of getting a show court ticket. It was odd but very funny how some people paid £2 to get on the bus, to realise that the bus was for ticket holders, having to get off where the queue started, which must have only been a 20 yard trip.
We saw some good matches. Ivanovic won 10-8 in the last, in what was possibly the longest women's match i've seen, saving two match points along the way. She's smoking hot too, so its good she's still in the tournament, otherwise we'd have to resort to staring at Mauresmo's scabby, hairy legs for our kicks. The other matches saw Bhagdatis and Ferrer go through with relative ease, so there were no major upsets on our court.
I'm playing tennis myself tonight in a match against the other Lowlands team. My game is frustrating me at the moment. I seem to hit the ball really well in practice, but can't replicate it during the match. I think nerves have something to do with it, which is a shame. I'm hoping our captain won't pair me and Ben together. We don't play well together at all and the last match saw us effing and blinding, feeling sorry for ourselves. The bad blood from last season seems to have subsided with the mixing around of players this year, which is probably the reason why a shapla dinner awaits us afterwards.
Wednesday, 9 April 2008
A disastrous evening
Watched the Arsenal game at the Emirates stadium last night with Wise and Loey. O2 were doing an offer whereby if you texted a certain number you could win a free pair of tickets to watch a screening of the game in their ginormous bar.
The first fuck up occured on the journey down there. I was on the Met line, nicely tootling along, soaking up the sun by the window seat, making good progress. Until i got to Baker Street that is. The train was waiting for an awful long time, but i didn't think anything of it. Suddenly the doors closed and the train started going backwards! They'd obviously made an announcement that the Aldgate service had changed platforms, of which i was oblivious to because i had my music blaring out. For anyone who doesn't live in London, the distance between Baker Street and Finchley road is so long that you could photocopy 'War and Peace'...... and do it single sided.
From then on the trains were terminating left, right and centre; old dears were let on if they'd just missed the closing doors and the general slow pace was infuriating.
Eventually i got there and tucked into a hotdog and some slightly nervy banter ahead of the big game. For all of the football that i've watched i don't think i've ever experienced such a high followed by a real low in short succession as i did last night. The wild celebrations were completely cut dead by instant silence, like one of those arguments at the Vic in Eastenders when someone turns the jukebox off if there's an argument brewing.
So off everyone trudged into the night, but not before the competition winner had been announced. 'Ticket number 0086' the MC croaked. A glistening PS3 up for grabs. What were our tickets? 0084-0085. The git who entered the stadium a fraction of a second after after won it.
To top the evening off i got a call from Wise on the journey home to say that West Brom had scored 3 goals in the last 8 minutes to beat Blackpool, to make all the reuslts of our 4 fold bet we'd put on come through. The betting slip was left on the table. The £50 down the drain.
The first fuck up occured on the journey down there. I was on the Met line, nicely tootling along, soaking up the sun by the window seat, making good progress. Until i got to Baker Street that is. The train was waiting for an awful long time, but i didn't think anything of it. Suddenly the doors closed and the train started going backwards! They'd obviously made an announcement that the Aldgate service had changed platforms, of which i was oblivious to because i had my music blaring out. For anyone who doesn't live in London, the distance between Baker Street and Finchley road is so long that you could photocopy 'War and Peace'...... and do it single sided.
From then on the trains were terminating left, right and centre; old dears were let on if they'd just missed the closing doors and the general slow pace was infuriating.
Eventually i got there and tucked into a hotdog and some slightly nervy banter ahead of the big game. For all of the football that i've watched i don't think i've ever experienced such a high followed by a real low in short succession as i did last night. The wild celebrations were completely cut dead by instant silence, like one of those arguments at the Vic in Eastenders when someone turns the jukebox off if there's an argument brewing.
So off everyone trudged into the night, but not before the competition winner had been announced. 'Ticket number 0086' the MC croaked. A glistening PS3 up for grabs. What were our tickets? 0084-0085. The git who entered the stadium a fraction of a second after after won it.
To top the evening off i got a call from Wise on the journey home to say that West Brom had scored 3 goals in the last 8 minutes to beat Blackpool, to make all the reuslts of our 4 fold bet we'd put on come through. The betting slip was left on the table. The £50 down the drain.
Friday, 4 April 2008
The Grand National
Well its that time of year again, where the Nation is gripped by the biggest Horse race of the calender year. A day where anyone who's anyone will study the form guide in the paper, picking a horse because of the colourful jockey jersey; its current form; what the going is like or because its got no hope in hell, but with the long odds you could win a bloody fortune!
Religiously as a kid i spent that Saturday morning scrutinizing the small print, reading who the so called experts like Richard Dunwoody and Peter Scudamore have tipped and finally backing a horse with a whole weeks pocket money. Its always interesting looking at the horses being paraded to the start to judge what they might be like. Some saunter, looking classy and stylish. Others looking restless, their heads lerching back and forth with their trainers hanging on for dear life.
And then the start. Fucking hell they've mucked that up in the past. Just a scraglly, waffer thin bit of string stopping these beasts from charging off into the distance. And low and behold it will be your horse facing the wrong way, queue the incesant, tetchy shouting from the starter for order. One thing that will always stick in my mind is the race that never was. A false start that didn't register with half of the race jockeys with the winner celebrating maniacically, only to realise that it was all for nothing.
And the commentators. Do they even take a breath? and with their rambling, 100 mile an hour monotone voice they could literally be saying anything. Its quite frustrating really, listening out for any sort of mention of your horse above the cries of people around you shouting for their horse, trying to identify which of the 3 red and white quater jersey jockey's is actually yours.
I cant imagine what it must be like for the horse. Charging round like a lunatic with no chance to get your breath back, being wipped by some cunt who wont get off your back and then being shot in the head after the race because you've got a slight leg injury.
Ultimately the National is for mugs....like me. It invariably doesn't go to form as it does say with the Cheltenham Gold Cup as proved by the 1-2 finish of Denman and Kauto Star. But that is the attraction of the national as its like a lottery after all. I have been given a tip from Daz' Dad Alan for Die or Comply. But taking a tip from him would be like taking sweets from a stranger.
Happy Mug Punting!
Religiously as a kid i spent that Saturday morning scrutinizing the small print, reading who the so called experts like Richard Dunwoody and Peter Scudamore have tipped and finally backing a horse with a whole weeks pocket money. Its always interesting looking at the horses being paraded to the start to judge what they might be like. Some saunter, looking classy and stylish. Others looking restless, their heads lerching back and forth with their trainers hanging on for dear life.
And then the start. Fucking hell they've mucked that up in the past. Just a scraglly, waffer thin bit of string stopping these beasts from charging off into the distance. And low and behold it will be your horse facing the wrong way, queue the incesant, tetchy shouting from the starter for order. One thing that will always stick in my mind is the race that never was. A false start that didn't register with half of the race jockeys with the winner celebrating maniacically, only to realise that it was all for nothing.
And the commentators. Do they even take a breath? and with their rambling, 100 mile an hour monotone voice they could literally be saying anything. Its quite frustrating really, listening out for any sort of mention of your horse above the cries of people around you shouting for their horse, trying to identify which of the 3 red and white quater jersey jockey's is actually yours.
I cant imagine what it must be like for the horse. Charging round like a lunatic with no chance to get your breath back, being wipped by some cunt who wont get off your back and then being shot in the head after the race because you've got a slight leg injury.
Ultimately the National is for mugs....like me. It invariably doesn't go to form as it does say with the Cheltenham Gold Cup as proved by the 1-2 finish of Denman and Kauto Star. But that is the attraction of the national as its like a lottery after all. I have been given a tip from Daz' Dad Alan for Die or Comply. But taking a tip from him would be like taking sweets from a stranger.
Happy Mug Punting!
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
Went to the Den on Tuesday night to watch the United game with Don, Bott and Alan G. United are an excellent side to watch when they play their free flowing attacking football and to win 2-0 in front of such an intimidating, voiciferous crowd is a sign of a great team.
I had the misfortune of having to miss the Arsenal game last night because of my Marketing evening course. The tutor normally finishes at 8.15 but low and behold the course over ran and the train decided to terminate at Rayners Lane. The stop before mine.
One funny incident from the United game, was when Vidic was taken off in some sort of golf buggy instead of the traditional stretcher. So here's me thinking how efficient and considerate the Italians are when the camera suddenly pans back to show Vidic hobbling like a cripple, barely able to walk back to the tunnel with the golf buggy roaring off into the distance to try and break some sort of Olympic stadium lap record!
We've got an audit going on at work today. I feel quite nervous because out of the 20 or so files being looked at, around a 1/4 are mine that i had the task of checking beforehand. The company needs to be 95% accurate or the centre could be in danger of being closed down. gulp.
I had an embarrasing moment at work last week. We are having Moodle training at the moment, which is an online learning environment, pretty much like Blackboard which they have at Universities, but more advanced. As part of the training you had to write a message on one of the forums to replicate what the candidates will eventually be doing during their course. The tutor suggested writing about who you are and what your hobbies are, so for a laugh i wrote 'i'm a retired astronaut and in my spare time enjoy parading around the house in womens clothing'.
What i didn't realise is that the message is also sent as an email which all of the management team recieve as well as the MD! Que constant jokes about what frilly underwear i've got etc..
I had the misfortune of having to miss the Arsenal game last night because of my Marketing evening course. The tutor normally finishes at 8.15 but low and behold the course over ran and the train decided to terminate at Rayners Lane. The stop before mine.
One funny incident from the United game, was when Vidic was taken off in some sort of golf buggy instead of the traditional stretcher. So here's me thinking how efficient and considerate the Italians are when the camera suddenly pans back to show Vidic hobbling like a cripple, barely able to walk back to the tunnel with the golf buggy roaring off into the distance to try and break some sort of Olympic stadium lap record!
We've got an audit going on at work today. I feel quite nervous because out of the 20 or so files being looked at, around a 1/4 are mine that i had the task of checking beforehand. The company needs to be 95% accurate or the centre could be in danger of being closed down. gulp.
I had an embarrasing moment at work last week. We are having Moodle training at the moment, which is an online learning environment, pretty much like Blackboard which they have at Universities, but more advanced. As part of the training you had to write a message on one of the forums to replicate what the candidates will eventually be doing during their course. The tutor suggested writing about who you are and what your hobbies are, so for a laugh i wrote 'i'm a retired astronaut and in my spare time enjoy parading around the house in womens clothing'.
What i didn't realise is that the message is also sent as an email which all of the management team recieve as well as the MD! Que constant jokes about what frilly underwear i've got etc..
Monday, 31 March 2008
Monday
Me and Don ended up winning the darts! 3rd time lucky as they say. Was a bizzare evening really. There were two pools of 8 couples, with the top 2 going through from each pool to play a semi then the resulting final. Rather oddly at one stage we had won 5 out of 6 games but still weren't through and had to rely on other results around us to aid our progression. The 4 pints were exceeded, fucking doubled infact, but somehow nerves still played a part regardless of drinking like a fish.
Aside from the win the evening had a few sour points for me. I couldn't believe how sexist and patronising some of the blokes were, when they were playing with their WAGS. These were some of the comments made:
'Just try and hit the board if its not too much trouble'
'This is the bit you need to hit, the little green bit (*Standing right at the board, pointing at it)
'Oh you can see how the vodka's kicked in for her'
Its quite funny reflecting on it now, but it was pretty cringing at the time.
I played tennis for the 1st time in about a year on Sunday morning. Having broke my finger and avoided the frosty weather i thought i should show my face to gear up for the upcoming league matches in May. I played like a dozy chump. Exactly how a typical British tennis player would. I couldn't believe how rusty i was and ended up getting spanked 6-0, after which i immediately fucked off, head bowed with the strings barely touched. After the 2nd air shot i realised i really need to book some private 1-1 lessons with the coach Cliff to regain some sort of form. It had been so long since i'd ventured onto the court that one of the members simply said 'welcome' when i sauntered on court.
Finally, a really funny thing just happened. A Local Labour associate of some sort rang up our household to ask each of us individually who we were going to vote for in the mayor election. I was the last up and as everyone had opted not to vote labour i thought i'd carry on the trend just for a laugh. The phone conversation went like this:
'Hello Mr Crew, i am enquiring as to who you will be voting for in the mayor election'
'Conservative'
'Can i ask why you have made that decision?'
'Boris, aint it'
'beeeeeeeeeeep'
Aside from the win the evening had a few sour points for me. I couldn't believe how sexist and patronising some of the blokes were, when they were playing with their WAGS. These were some of the comments made:
'Just try and hit the board if its not too much trouble'
'This is the bit you need to hit, the little green bit (*Standing right at the board, pointing at it)
'Oh you can see how the vodka's kicked in for her'
Its quite funny reflecting on it now, but it was pretty cringing at the time.
I played tennis for the 1st time in about a year on Sunday morning. Having broke my finger and avoided the frosty weather i thought i should show my face to gear up for the upcoming league matches in May. I played like a dozy chump. Exactly how a typical British tennis player would. I couldn't believe how rusty i was and ended up getting spanked 6-0, after which i immediately fucked off, head bowed with the strings barely touched. After the 2nd air shot i realised i really need to book some private 1-1 lessons with the coach Cliff to regain some sort of form. It had been so long since i'd ventured onto the court that one of the members simply said 'welcome' when i sauntered on court.
Finally, a really funny thing just happened. A Local Labour associate of some sort rang up our household to ask each of us individually who we were going to vote for in the mayor election. I was the last up and as everyone had opted not to vote labour i thought i'd carry on the trend just for a laugh. The phone conversation went like this:
'Hello Mr Crew, i am enquiring as to who you will be voting for in the mayor election'
'Conservative'
'Can i ask why you have made that decision?'
'Boris, aint it'
'beeeeeeeeeeep'
Saturday, 29 March 2008
The start...
Hello everyone,
Thought i'd get stuck into writing a blog, as i like writing and i'm often at a loose end counting down the seconds of time. Well it almost went tits up trying to sort it out. When registering you have to type in that code, to prove your are human, but it was bloody impossible! I must have had 6 or 7 attempts and kept on fucking it. All the letters were blurred and squiggly and i almost gave up, but here i am....perhaps the administrator felt sorry for me.
I'm playing in a darts tournament tonight. I'm playing with Don, and we've done it twice before with little success. Darts is one of those games where you are one of two types of players.
1. you try and play it properly, the way it should be played, by going for the treble 20, but invariably you hit a 1 or 5. Though when you hit the 20 you feel like a Van Barneveld or a Power Taylor.
2. You just throw it with your eyes closed, launching it like a javelin, hoping for the best and somehow fluke a random treble 13, where the 2 other darts lay folornly on the floor having rebounded off the wall above the board.
Well me and Don fall into catergory 1. However we've been undone by people in category 2. It can take weeks to get over it, though we have both agreed that 4-5 pints is where optimun form is reached so hopefully we'll have more joy tonight.
Aside from Darts i have been in the process of setting up a practical joke ready for April fools to play on a guy at work. Me and one of the young lads on work experience have devised a letter to send to to the said receiver of the prank, claiming that as one of the lucky e-guides he has won £2000 to buy e-learning equipment for the company he works at. It all sounds very far fetched, but we have got logos from the company off the internet so the letter looks convincing-ish.
Most practical jokes in the past proved to be very successful. One in particular resulted in myself and my uni friend jamie buying a kipper from the local convenience store. After letting it soak in the sun, with all the juices secreting i watched Jamie lug it from outside in the courtyard through the tiniest gap in Paul's window to excatly where his bed would be. 2 days later, Paul returned from his weekend away to find the kipper, a soaked matress and bed sheets that stunk to high heaven.
Oh well, i'm off to get ready for another nerve wracking afternoon listening to QPR, relying simply on 2 distant voices to provide a decent reflection on what is happening....
Thought i'd get stuck into writing a blog, as i like writing and i'm often at a loose end counting down the seconds of time. Well it almost went tits up trying to sort it out. When registering you have to type in that code, to prove your are human, but it was bloody impossible! I must have had 6 or 7 attempts and kept on fucking it. All the letters were blurred and squiggly and i almost gave up, but here i am....perhaps the administrator felt sorry for me.
I'm playing in a darts tournament tonight. I'm playing with Don, and we've done it twice before with little success. Darts is one of those games where you are one of two types of players.
1. you try and play it properly, the way it should be played, by going for the treble 20, but invariably you hit a 1 or 5. Though when you hit the 20 you feel like a Van Barneveld or a Power Taylor.
2. You just throw it with your eyes closed, launching it like a javelin, hoping for the best and somehow fluke a random treble 13, where the 2 other darts lay folornly on the floor having rebounded off the wall above the board.
Well me and Don fall into catergory 1. However we've been undone by people in category 2. It can take weeks to get over it, though we have both agreed that 4-5 pints is where optimun form is reached so hopefully we'll have more joy tonight.
Aside from Darts i have been in the process of setting up a practical joke ready for April fools to play on a guy at work. Me and one of the young lads on work experience have devised a letter to send to to the said receiver of the prank, claiming that as one of the lucky e-guides he has won £2000 to buy e-learning equipment for the company he works at. It all sounds very far fetched, but we have got logos from the company off the internet so the letter looks convincing-ish.
Most practical jokes in the past proved to be very successful. One in particular resulted in myself and my uni friend jamie buying a kipper from the local convenience store. After letting it soak in the sun, with all the juices secreting i watched Jamie lug it from outside in the courtyard through the tiniest gap in Paul's window to excatly where his bed would be. 2 days later, Paul returned from his weekend away to find the kipper, a soaked matress and bed sheets that stunk to high heaven.
Oh well, i'm off to get ready for another nerve wracking afternoon listening to QPR, relying simply on 2 distant voices to provide a decent reflection on what is happening....
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