Christmas - Part 1

Seeing as everybody else is being slack I thought i'd be the first to update with tails of Christmas. I'm sure the rest of the lads will update in their own (works) time!

So, Christmas eve we ran around like lunatics, although this is the most organised for a Christmas I have ever been, soo many things had been forgotten not least of which being actually getting the presents to people. We spent the morning in town shopping for a new set of pans (S had burnt the bottom out of our largest pan whilst making soup), I hate shopping. I really really hate shopping, especially on Christmas eve. The internet was invented for me. After going to 3 shops we settled on our first choice, FFS they're just pans after all. The WHOLE afternoon was then spent driving around the island doing a poor impression of father Christmas. Whenever I see my family they always come out with the same thing about coming to see them more often. I'm busy, they're busy and yet i'm still always made to feel guilty. The annual shallow promises were made, jobs a good un. I wonder how many times THEY'LL come to see me this year???

Christmas day itself passed by in a blur, I was Chef for the day so once all the presents were open I spend the rest of the day co-ordinating a 3 course meal for the 5 of us, S's parents were coming. Thanks to my PDA (i'm no cook and very forgetfull) everything turned out well. Everbody complained that I cooked too much but same old same old. I think that if you can eat your pudding straight after your main course then your main course is too small?

We all got everything we wanted for Christmas and then some, we must have all been good boys and girls. The only thing missing was my x-box360. Bastard Amazon and their lies. I wont rant on, i'm sure it will be here soon, delivery estimate 29Dec-11Jan. L in particular was happy with her lot, although the pile did look smaller than last year (a side affect of growing older i'm sure) everything she got was quality and i'm positive will be played with. Before Christmas we had to throw away some of last years un-opened toys to make room.

So between Christmas and now we have been taking it easy. Watching the usual rubbish on TV, eating too much and even having the odd beer. Visitors have included a very brief visit from Paul Maxine and family. Daniel took a liking for L so i'll have to be keeping an eye on that one. My older brother and family has been around, again to look at the TV. There is a theme here. Our trips out have mainly been visiting family again although I do owe Paul and Maxine an appology for not being able to make it to a social drinks night a few days ago. You see i've had sick people around me for a month now and with my super human immune system managed to fight of all bugs. With the Christmas "spirits" on board I guess it was inevitable that I would end up sick. Avian flu no less. Seriously though, I am feeling like shit, not one of your common sore throat and runny nose colds but a full on banging head and can't mov flu affair. I didn't want to spread my germs and besides more drink could have been fatal. There will be no beer for me tonight either, Monopoly is about as exciting as my New Years eve is going to get. I don't mind though, i'll be spending it with my favourite people in the whole world.

On that note i'll wish everyone a happy, safe and prosperous new year! By this time next year lads....

Update on the TV Purchase

Sorry to go on about this, but as I have nothing else to occupy my mind at work, it wanders and dwell’s on new Gadgets:

Anyhoo.

Play.com has started their New Years Sale today, and so they have turned out to be even cheaper than the people mentioned in the previous post.

Samsung HD DVD          £110

Toshiba LCD TV          £1,500

Total for Entertainment System: £1,610

Result !

Question is, do I press, “BUY” and get it now?

Alternatively, wait 2 weeks and see if I can get it cheaper elsewhere?

Due to the low (ish) cost of the above items, it does mean I could also purchase Michael’s suggestion:

Yamaha Sound Projector     £450

Bringing the whole total to: £2,060

Result !

Well someone say Buy It. or some good reason not to; apart from not really being able to afford it.

Even comments from the Wife would be appreciated…. I suppose it is her money as well. Not that we actually have the money, so I suppose I should also ask the Credit Card people.

One out of Two Ain’t Bad.

Haven’t quite worked out the Log Puzzle, but I do have a winner in the TV stakes. Although the list isn’t comprehensive and I suppose I can look at a few more sites. I actually doubt I’ll get it much cheaper.

Site                    Price Inc Del          Deliver to IOM
Digital Direct               1,446.99          No     
BE Direct               1,499.99          No     
Digico                     1,527.00          No
Digital Point               1,527.29          No
RGB Direct               1,527.29          No
Prc Direct               1,527.29          No     
Beyond Television          1,580.00          Yes
Digitech Electronics          1,589.00          Yes
Electrical Discount UK          1,599.99          Yes
Empire Direct               1,611.50          
TV & Video Direct          1,630.01          Yes
Play .com               1,699.99          Yes
Marown TV IOM          1,999.99          Yes

So Beyond Television looks like it will be getting my money come the New Year.

In closing can I just mention these whinging people. Apparently,”The 27-year-old is struggling to heat the house with a coal fire, electric heaters and a small gas fire.” WTF? Christ, they had more than we did when we were growing up. We only had a coal fire in the main living room and that was it. It didn’t do my brother and I any harm waking up each morning with Ice on the inside of the single pane window (at least they have double glazing). Some people really don’t know they are born.

Merry Xmas everyone as this will be my last post this year.

Ps. Carol I tried Puzzle Donkey to keep me amused but was stuck on Round 1 Puzzle 3. “Mix ‘em up”. I just have know idea what you are meant to do??

Nothing Coherent, just jumbled thoughts.

I didn’t blog yesterday, as I couldn’t think of a single thing to say, which as my wife will tell you isn’t unusual. This was a pity, as I didn’t have a single thing to do at work all day, and I was bored silly.

So today I thought I would just waffle for 10 mins.

Watching the news last night, there was a report that City Wankers (I’m sure that is what they said) have had a bumper year and that some bonuses could be as high as £10 - £20 million…… WHAT? 20 million squid, what the fuck is that all about…. What about all the hard working IT people out there, that keep the whole ship going behind the scenes? Just because I don’t sit at my desk till 6/7 o’clock doesn’t mean I haven’t brought the same worth to the office as the accountants here. How would they get on if the systems didn’t run, that the backups didn’t work and every time they overwrite the wrong file I can’t restore it… Bastards! If I don’t get at least £5 million this year, I’m off.

Oh and I’m sure nurses and social services, fireman, police officers, stay at home mum’s and video store workers all could do with a slice of that pie as well.

In other news apparently someone who can cut a dash on the dance-floor has always been seen as a good catch, but scientists have now explained why.
It appears people who boogie better tend to be more symmetrical - which is something people look for in a mate.

Have you seen me dance? I mean really dance?

That actually explains why I am such a big hit with the chicks and Timmy D is not.

My work today is going to involve two things.

I bought myself a wooden puzzle about three years ago, where you have 10 long blocks. Each block is made up of holes, pegs or flat, the idea being you have to match 5 logs on top (east to west) over the 5 logs on the bottom (North to south). Anyway, three years later I still haven’t managed it. Not that it takes up my every waking hour. But when I do happen across it, I tend to spend a while trying to solve it. So I have re-created a mathematical representation of the puzzle and will spend the rest of the day trying to solve it.


The second thing I shall create a spread sheet of all the place’s I can buy my new TV and see what the differences are. Not that interesting I know, but I have to have something to do till 5.00pm

You all have a nice day.

The Boyz Xmas Drinks - pt 3

This is my Xmas booze up:

We got to the bar at around 1:30. And immediately, everyone ordered a coke or a coffee or whatever, just to 'ease' into things gently.

Obivously, there was some chatting which was rudely interrupted at 2:15 as the food was served.

Roast Beef, mashed potato, gravy, caesar salad, thousand island dressing, tuna pasta and chicken kiev. The reason I list all the ingredients of the meal is to highlight the fact that Canadians have no sense of chronology to their meals. ALL of those items are served to you on the same plate. It's hysterical.

Then, after munching through the good quality (if over-populated) platter, another round of drinks for the troops. I noticed more than one alcoholic drink appearing.

A few changes of seating ensued allowing a more informal chatting experience. Another round of drinks. And then, heigh-ho, it's nearly 4:30. Doesn't time fly. Time for people to start making their excuses and the proceedings come to a close.

What a scorcher!!!


PLEASE - KILL ME!!!!!

The Boyz Xmas Drinks - pt 2

Everyone descended on the Rovers Return at 12:30 – and despite a quick ‘out of the blocks’ pace of some four drinks within the first hour (before the bushy burgers n chips et al) we did settle into a leisurely, measured rate of consumption that kept everyone at their most entertaining whilst not pushing anyone over the edge.

The saddle was an inspired venue – after the warmth of the Rovers, and the frost of the Cornerhouse, we were looking forward to a sensible cosy place. I am staggered at the amount of games of pool I have played in my life – and still am v v crap at the game. Sheesh. Then on to the British and the last of the dregs make it for the final stretch – manly bonding, arguments, piss-taking, upsetness (though I have no idea why/what/how), rambling jokes, shocking confessions of a sexual nature, more alcohmofrolics, trying to persuade some drunken gal to lapdance, guys getting picked up by their missus’s, last order cheeky southern comforts.

And, of course, the looooong walk home (cos I hate manx taxi’s. utterly despised).

The Boyz Christmas Drinks

Well overall, the whole day went very well.

A shit load of drink was drunk by a load of drunks. In fact I would hate to think how much was actually consumed both individually and collectively.

Say 2 pints an hour (at a conservative estimate) for 8 hours (in fact I have no idea what time we finished, but we started at 12.30pm and lasted at least till 8.30pm) which as you can all work out is 16 pints per person. Which I think you’ll agree is a lot, and is the reason that although it’s 10.15am the day after, I still feel very much drunk….

Special mention must go to Paulie B & I who won the Pool Competition.

And a special why oh why did I purchase and consume the HOTTEST KEBAB ever on the way home, as that is all I can taste…

A fantastic day out, and the best thing is, I didn’t have to use up any work holidays, I just simply left work, and everyone assumed I had booked time off. … Fools!

Till Next Year

The Weekend etc..

Well you’ll be glad to now I didn’t upset or argue with anyone at the works do. I sat at the end of the table and was Ustinov in my erudite quips and put downs. I was actually going great guns, drunk but merrily so. I then for some reason thought I needed to get drunker and a lot quicker.

So I started on Red Wine Chasers with the Bushy’s Bitter…. 1 hour later I was getting my coat and stumbling out of the pub. Time lasted…. 5 hours. (From noon till 5.00pm)

Saturday was the family’s trip to see my son in The Manx Operatic’s Scrooge the Musical. Let me just say how proud we all were of little Lew. Despite being his first ever time on stage, he handled it like an old Pro. The whole show was fantastic, and leading on from Mike’s and Donna’s comments in the previous post, there wasn’t a dry eye in sight.

The highlights of the show were Scrooge himself, who was fantastic and little Timmy Crachett, whose solo had the whole theatre in tears.

Sunday was the same old same old, whilst my wife and son were lording it at the Operatic Society Champagne Ball, I was sat at home drinking stubbies and raining death on Halo.

That’s it for the weekend, the next chapter starts today at 12.30pm, when we are on the Boyz Christmas Drinks, very surprisingly for us; there will actually be more than just Ady & I there.

I pray to god, I am the loveable rogue I really am, and not that pissed up twating wanker that sometimes pop’s out.

Apologies to one and all in advance.

The Lino, the Watch and the Wherewithal

Let's get it out of the way, I mean the comparison to the Lord of the Rings. As a young-person, I read everything published by both Tolkien and Lewis (even the non-Narnia/Middle-Earth) stuff. So I have no axe to grind.

However.....Wardrobe is simply a better movie than LOTR. There, I said it. LOTR was good, great even. In terms of detail, epicness and sheer cash spent, LOTR is unparalleled in modern times.

But Wardrobe is more intimate, has better acting and is a better tale.

It's a real rollercoaster for the emotions. Although I think most 'men' are gonna have problems letting themselves become immersed in a story about likkle girls with huge talking beavers (oo-er). Especially with the much publicised Christian undertones (undertones? freight-train tones more like).

The battles are top notch, the dialog solid and the cast are engaging (unlike the Star Wars cast of Oscar winners). Susan's added dialogue in particular prevents many scenes from sounding corny like SW and LOTR.

There are a few holes you can pick in it; including some really obvious blue-screen scenes. It felt more BBC-produced than LucasFilm produced. But you shouldn't judge a movie on its budget.

But it didn't feel as long as its 140 min running time suggested. My daughters (6 & 8) were mesmerised from start to finish. Both admitting to shedding tears on multiple occasions. Even Shirley (who has slept through more LOTR scenes than you've had hot dinners) enjoyed it all.

But, it won't win any Oscars. It's not PC (the hero even wields a shield with a British Red Lion emblem, hurrah!). Fauns are not as 'hip' as Sith Lords. And, of course, LOTR winning 300 Oscars means another drought for the fantasy genre.

Remember how enjoyable the old-time fantasy movies were before CGI arrived? This feels more like Jason and the Argonauts than Jurassic Park.

Think Beaver, think Narnia.

My Christmas Wish List

I know a lot of you out there are scratching your heads, wondering what to get me for Merry Christmas.

I know I am not an easy person to buy for, so out of the goodness of my heart, here are a few suggestions.

Toshiba 37WLT58 LCD HD TV: What can I say, an excellent High Definition TV, with 2,000 inputs, and great quality.
Price: £1699.99

Samsung DVD-HD950 Upscaling DVD Player: To allow me to watch my current DVD collection in all it’s digitally upscale glory.
Price: £119.99

Yamaha YSP-1 Sound Projector: State of the Art surround sound system, without the need for speakers and wires all around your room.
Price: £500.00

Xbox 360 Premium Package: Every boy wants one, and so do I
Price: £279.99

Project Gotham Racing 3: Apparently, it’s fucking brilliant. I need this game
Price: £39.99

Tomb Raider Legend: Doesn’t actually get released till March, but plan ahead and order for me. It’s Lara Croft for Christ sakes.
Price: £29.99

Now go out and spend my little monkeys, spend till it hurts.

Thank you.

Work Christmas Party

It’s that time of year again, and I have my Work’s Christmas Party today starting at 12.00 in the boardroom. We open some beers and then hand out the Secret Santa’s.

Don’t get me going on Secret Santa’s… What a load of bollocks. Last year I gave a Homer Simpson Soap on a Rope to my Secret Santa. He kept saying, “What the fuck is that meant to mean?”


It meant nothing dumb arse, it was the nearest thing to the till in the pound shop.

Anyhoo, back to the Party.

Inevitably, I’ll end up upsetting someone; I tend to enjoy arguing and winding people up when I’m drunk, and apparently I’m very very good at it. I don’t do it out of meanness, I just messing with them.

In fact, I’ve got to a certain skill level, that I can upset people without really listening to what I’m saying.

At last years Work’s Party, I was talking to this fella, and his American wife came over to say hello. Well she said a few things, and I replied without paying attention to what I was saying.

Anyway, to cut a long story short she ran out of the Pub crying….with Anger I must add, not upset.

Her husband actually found it quite funny, and everyone has been bringing up the story all week.

But I have promised myself, to be nice, and get along with everyone, even the yanks.

I just hope I last longer than 5.30pm….

Merry Xmas.

The 51st State

Everyone who comes to Canada says that, unlike Americans, Canadians are genuinely friendly people.

Bullshit.

Yesterday it was -14. Me and Shirl went to the Mall for lunch. On the way there we passed this woman on the road whose car had clearly broken down. On the way back from the mall (90 minutes later) she was still there. Now this car was slap-bang in the middle of a junction, not neatly to one side. Can you imagine that happening in the IOM? It'd be two minutes before a couple of burly gentlemen got out and (at the very least) pushed your car to one side*. Admittedly, during that two minutes you'd be beeped at 20 times and receive a fair amount of middle-finger gestures.

But here? Nope. Totally ignored. No help, no beeps, no fingers. It's a way of life. We all ignore each other all the time. Apart from in stores and restaurants...

...you see, in the States, the serving people (e.g. waitresses and salespeople) are really nice to you basically so they get their tip/commission. Makes me sick, but at least it's understandable.

However, in Canada, being-nice-to-customers is compulsory. Did you know that it is mandatory for shop-floor staff to smile and ask "can I help you with anything?" whenever they are within 10 feet of a customer. It's in the handbook. And the distance is actually specified.

And that staff-members will be reprimanded if they are reported for not doing so. Cashiers HAVE to ask "Did you find everything you were looking for?". EXACTLY those words.

And they have head-office staff going round stores pretending to be shoppers trying to catch the staff out. Nice.

Genuinely friendly? Ha!

At least in the IOM if someone says "Hi? How are you?" they're being sincere. They're also being sincere if they say "Get out of my way or I'll kick your tits in".

Regards

p.s. No, we didn't stop and help either, she could've been a psycho.

All my own work

The last few days, apart from praising Firefox, I have taken my inspiration from other sources, which is a lazy way to blog.

However, if there’s nothing in my head, which my school teachers argued all the time, then there’s nothing there.

I know you are thinking I have something special to write today; but alas I have no such inspiration.

I was going to regal you with more of my Bro’s many varied and wonderfully colourful rambunctious japes and adventures.

But alas due to ongoing legal cases I can’t.

I could tell you of the time, whilst working on the Isle of Man Ferries and him and his mate were going on “Shore Leave“ for a couple of days. That after his mate had pack his bag and left it on his bunk, that he emptied all the clothes out and filled it full of potatoes. Oh! How he laughed when opening his bag in the hotel, that all he had to wear for that weekend was spuds.

Or the time when another friend was returning from Sea, my Bro and his other friends painted his the entire outside of the house PINK. Literally everything was pink; roof, walls, windows, doors, grass etc…

I could go on and on… but alas I won’t.

Slane lhiu (Manx Gaelic for Good Bye)

Isn’t Firefox Brilliant

I’ve just found an exciting new feature of Firefox 1.5.

You see every morning when I get to work; I check my empty work inbox and then settle down with my cup of tea to read my morning blogs and websites. There are about 10 regular ones that I always read first.

Anyhoo.

Firefox have added (it might have been there in the previous release but I didn’t see it), a feature where you can open ALL the bookmarks in the particular Favourites folder you are in.

So I have created a new folder in my Bookmarks (or favourites as IE call it),  filled it with my ten morning websites; and now all I have to do is click on the “Open in Tabs” button at the bottom of the folder, and Hey Presto! All 10 websites are opened at a single click.

Absolutely fucking magic….

This is a Man's World !

22 things that make you feel like a real man

1. OPENING JARS - nnng, she's struggling. You take it from her hands, open it effortlessly and pretend she loosened it for you. She didn't. Jars are men's work.
2. CALLING SOMEONE 'SON' - Especially policeman but even saying it to kids makes you the man.
3. SHARPENING A PENCIL WITH A STANLEY KNIFE - Blunt, is it? Hand it here love. No, I don't need a sharpener, you think I can't whittle?
4. GOING TO THE TIP - A manly act which combines driving, lifting and - as you thrillingly drop your rubbish into another huge pile of other rubbish – noisy destruction.
5. DRINKING UP - Specifically, rising from the table, slinging your coat on and downing two thirds of a pint in one fluid movement. Then nodding towards the door, saying, "Let's go" and striding out while everyone else struggles to catch up with you. God, you're hard.
6. HAVING A THIN BIT OF WOOD - in the shed, solely to stir paint with.
7. HAVING A SCAR - Ideally it'll be a facial knife wound, but even an iron burn on the wrist is good. "Ooh, did it hurt". "Nah".
8. HAVING A HANGOVER AND THICK STUBBLE - When birds have been partying they just whinge. You, on the other hand have physical evidence of your hardness, sprouting from your face. "Big night?" Grr, what does it look like.
9. NODDING AT COPPERS - A moments eye contact is all it takes for you to share the unspoken bond. "We've not seen eye to eye in the past", it says, "but someone's got to keep the little scrotes in line".
10. USING POWER TOOLS - slightly more powerful than you need or can safely handle. Pneumatic drilling while smoking a fag? Superb.
11. ARRIVING IN A PUB LATE... and everyone cheers you. It doesn't mean you're popular, it just means your mates are ****ed. However, the rest of the pub doesn't know that.
12. NOT WATCHING YOUR WEIGHT - fat is a feminist issue, apparently. Brilliant. Pass the pork scratchings.
13. CARVING THE ROAST - and saying "are you a leg or breast man" to the blokes and "do you want stuffing" to the women. Congratulations, you are now your dad.
14. WINKING - turns women to putty. Doesn't it?
15. TEST SWINGING HAMMERS - ideally, B&Q would have little changing rooms with mirrors so you could see how rugged you look with any DIY item. Until then, we'll make do with the aisles.
16. TAKING OUT £200 FROM A CASHPOINT - okay, so its for paying the plumber later but with that much cash you feel like a mafia don. The only thing better is peeling notes off the roll later.
17. PHONE CALLS THAT LAST LESS THAN A MINUTE - unlike birds, we get straight to the point. "Alright? Yep. Drink? The Stags Head? The Crows Nest it is then. Seven. See ya."
18. PARALLEL PARKING - bosh, straight in. first time. Can Schumacher do that? No, because his cars got no reverse gear which, technically, makes you the worlds best driver.
19. HAVING EARNED THAT PINT - Since the dawn of time, men have toiled in the fields in blistering heat. Why? So, when it's over we can stand there in silence, surveying our work with one hand resting on the beer gut while the other nurses a foaming jug of ale. Aaaah.
20. HAVING SOMETHING PROPERLY WRONG WITH YOU - especially if you didn't make a fuss. "Why was I off, nothing much, just a brain haemorrhage".
21. KNOWING WHICH SCREWDRIVER IS WHICH - "a Phillips? For that? Are you mad, bint?"
22. TAKING A NEWSPAPER INTO THE LOO - a visual code that says that's right, I'm going in there for a huge, long man-sized sh*t.

Proper Crimbo

Yeah, sure. There are four of us supposed to contribute to the Manx Lads blog. But when faced with the incisive wit of Mr K, the sublime wit of Mr F and the laconic wit of Mr B – I tend to come off as a shining wit (spoonerism applied!).

Christmas. I lurve christmas. I do the giddy, dashing about, santa hat wearing kinda Christmas. Sing along to the naff tunes, irrational purchases, eat whatever is on offer kind of Christmas. Love it. Love it so much I save my two fave jokes for christmas time – years ago they used to raise a chuckle, now they raise a groan or silence (silence is the best weapon against encouragement, don’t you think!).

So I’m in a quandary for Crimbo day. Round the folks? Invite myself to one of the numerous sisters or aunties? A singleton on Christmas day is often viewed on as a little sad. Poor lad gonna pull his own cracker and wake up in the morning to unwrap the present he bought himself . . . But in reality I have a ball! Stagger in early xmas morning, crash out, up for 10 to put the roast on and prepare the veg. Zip round the extended rellies, distributing pressies and watching the utter contemt of nieces/nephews faces as they unwrap my gifts only to find it’s a toy that doesn’t require batteries!

Tee Hee. The festive joy of it. Christmas, I love it! So much so I have it on my CV as a hobby.

Can someone tell me Why?

Where or why is it written in stone, that women have to buy a new top for each new social event?

Surely one of the hundreds already hanging up will be adequate, plus you’ll already have the necessary accessories.

I’m just at a loss, that immediately after an invite, you go straight to the Next Catalogue to have a look.

I have 4 shirts that do all social occasions, and no accessories.

Go Figure

Cow eyes over a gate...

Like all guys (apart from the ho-eys) my late teens/early 20s were spent in the pursuit of women. I loved women and wanted women to love me in return.

I bought expensive clothes.
I bought expensive aftershave.
I made sure I could dance (full length mirrors rule!!).
I brushed my teeth an awful lot.
I learned the lyrics to all the Madonna songs.

You see, we guys like to give courting our best shot.

Then, on one occasion, a very attractive (but older) lady commented that I had lovely big eyes. I think I was about 12 at the time but her compliment stuck. This would be my killer weapon!!!

So, from then on, when out on the hunt I would make sure that I kept my eyes wide and always made eye contact with the honeys. I did this for years but with remarkably little success. My "lovely big eyes" didn't seem to be working.

Then, late one night in a local nightspot, I was coming down the stairs and I spotted a couple of hotties heading my way. I vaguely knew these chickies and decided to make my usual ocular impact. I made sure my eyelids were fully open, exposing my killer pupils, smiled and said "hi!".

As they passed by, I heard one girl say "Looks like Michael is totally spaced out of his head!" to which her friend replied "he always is".

I squint a lot more now.

Everybody Hates the French

"I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me."
General George S. Patton.

"Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion."
Norman Schwartzkopf.

"We can stand here like the French, or we can do something about it."
Marge Simpson

"As far as I'm concerned, war always means failure"
Jacques Chirac, President of France

"As far as France is concerned, you're right."
Rush Limbaugh,

"The only time France wants us to go to war is when the German Army is sitting in Paris sipping coffee."
Regis Philbin.

"The French are a smallish, monkey-looking bunch and not dressed any better, on average, than the citizens of Baltimore. True, you can sit outside in Paris and drink little cups of coffee, but why this is more stylish than sitting inside and drinking large glasses of whisky I don't know."
P.J O'Rourke (1989).

"You know, the French remind me a little bit of an aging actress of the 1940s who was still trying to dine out on her looks but doesn't have the face for it."
John McCain, U.S. Senator from Arizona.

"You know why the French don't want to bomb Saddam Hussein?
Because he hates America, he loves mistresses and wears a beret. He is French, people."
Conan O'Brien

"I don't know why people are surprised that France won't help us get Saddam out of Iraq. After all, France wouldn't help us get Hitler out of France either"
Jay Leno.

"The last time the French asked for 'more proof' it came marching into Paris under a German flag."
David Letterman

Only thing worse than a Frenchman is a Frenchman who lives in Canada.
Ted Nugent.

War without France would be like ... uh .. World War II.

"It is important to remember that the French have always been there when they needed us."
Alan Kent

"They've taken their own precautions against al-Qa'ida. To prepare for an attack, each Frenchman is urged to keep duct tape, a white flag, and a three-day supply of mistresses in the house."
Argus Hamilton

"Somebody was telling me about the French Army rifle that was being advertised on eBay the other day - the description was, 'Never shot. Dropped once.'

"Do you know how many Frenchmen it takes to defend Paris? It's not known, it's never been tried."
Rep. R. Blount (MO)

The AP and UPI reported that the French Government announced after the London bombings that it has raised its terror alert level from Run to Hide. The only two higher levels in France are Surrender and Collaborate. The rise in the alert level was  precipitated by a recent fire, which destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively disabling their military.

The French Government announced today that it is imposing a ban on the use of fireworks at Euro Disney. The decision comes the day after a nightly fireworks display at the park, located just 30 miles outside of Paris, caused the soldiers at a nearby French Army garrison to surrender to a group of Czech tourists.

Are We The Only Working Parents Out There?

The wife and I went to see L's Christmas play last night, it (she) was brilliant. Ever since she started going to a theatre group her confidence has just grown and grown. School plays have changed though haven't they? This one had references to Little Britain, X Factor and all sorts of other stuff. Back in the day our play was the same nativity rubbish every year. I was normally a tree, or absent.

We were very lucky to get to go really, first of all L forgot to give us the note telling us when it was. She has been sick as well so we only got the chance to book tickets yesterday (for Wednesday nights performance). So S phones the School to book, "Sorry Mrs B, there are no tickets left". Oh bugger. So I get home yesterday and she is in a right mood. I can understand, really I can, most of the parents of kids at L's school don't work, at all. Not a thing. There is an afternoon performaces that these people with time to spare could go to, but of course they don't , why should they, it would mean them having to get up before 3 in the afternoon? This means us and the others that work are stuffed. Anyhoo, we were late booking, first come first served and all that so not a lot we could do other than grin and bare it. BUT then I get told that L's teacher suggested that L have a sleep in today (she only went back yesterday and is still nothing like 100%), so that she is fresh and ready for the afternoons performace, WTF? S TRIED to explain that we both work but to no avail, surely there are other parents out there who work full time? We all have to take time off to look after our kids when they are sick, but for a teacher to suggest a mornings rest before a Christmas play, mental!

'What are lad mags doing to Women?'

The writers refer to women as if they were animals or prized possession. One article might explain how to "train" a girlfriend; another refers to breast augmentation surgery as a "refit" and breasts as "air-bags".

One magazine's notorious "Win a boob job for your girlfriend" competition shows similar disregard for women's wellbeing. Hardly surprising, given that they are characterised as indecisive, irrational, excessively talkative, and obsessed with their appearance.

The editors say their photos of scantily-clad women are titillating rather than actual porn. Women displayed for the purpose of sexually exciting readers IS porn.

These magazines average 70 topless photos per issue - that is more than Playboy.

Alternatively, they say it is soft rather than hard-core porn. We should not distinguish between the two on anatomical terms; both can be degrading.

Lad mags like to give the impression that women are desperate to slip between their covers, with pages of readers' photos, many said to have been sent in by the women themselves.

Moreover, one magazine runs a "Street Strip Challenge", asking passers-by to pose in their pants. The message is clear - normal women know it is just a cheeky bit of fun, and if you do not think so, you are prudish.

With readers as young as 10- to 12-year-old boys, according to some surveys, what type of men will that result in?

Unlike glossy magazines for girls and women, there is little mention of contraception, STDs, unwanted pregnancy or, heaven forbid, responsibility for others' feelings.

Sure, if I don't like them, I don't have to read them. However, they are impossible to avoid - at newsagents, on flights, trains and in the doctor's waiting room.

These magazines should be consigned to shuttered shops, away from the general public who may not want to read them for religious or moral reasons, or just because they are in poor taste.

Actually, I’m just kidding. They are great !!

Capital Knockers Madam!

Sharing is Good.

I thought I would share this with you, as that’s the sort of person I am.

We bought my Wife a new mobile phone over the weekend, as an early Christmas gift. Now it’s a lovely phone and does all sorts of groovy stuff, including taking Video’s.

What you can also do is assign Photo’s or Video’s as a Caller ID.

So…..

Dressed in only my Ann Summers Silk Boxers and a Bow Tie, we filmed me doing a little “sexy” dance.

So now every time I ring my lovely wife, it takes her ages to pick up the phone, as she is busy watching me moving and grooving to “Push the Button” by the Sugababes.

So there you have it, you now have an image of me, silk boxes (red), bow tie, dancing like a little love monkey.

Have a Good Day.

The problem with paranoid parents is:

A modern child's life is filled with unnecessary monitoring and mollycoddling from over-protective parents

The physics of parenthood have exploded.

Once the kids were satellites orbiting around the parents; now the centre of the universe is the child.

Mothers feel guilty leaving their children to watch television on their own, so sit down and watch Pingu beside them, wasting valuable time that could be far better spent sitting in the kitchen smoking and doing Su Doku puzzles.

Parents volunteer to go in and read in the classroom, when all they really want to do is spy on the teachers and be with their precious ones during school hours as well.

When I was a child my parents did not surrender their dignity by wallowing around in ball pits.

They went to the pub and left me and my brother on our own fighting in the car.

Sitting in that pub car park taught me important lessons. I learnt what happens when you release the hand-brake on a hill. But of course I also used that time to read. I can still quote the AA Members handbook from 1976.

Just as you see toddlers being restrained by those ludicrous safety reins, modern parents are wearing invisible reins that hold them back from doing what ought to come naturally.
  
Manuals are consulted, diet fads are imposed, and each scare story in the tabloids has parents changing the regime under which their kids are being brought up.

Parents have lost the confidence to trust themselves or others. Fear has become the dominant emotion - both the fear of something happening and fear of nothing happening to them; the terror that their children might be ordinary.

And so every second of the modern child's life is time-tabled and monitored.

Children are strapped into the back of 4x4s and whisked from this tutor to that, and if there are a few minutes of mucking about in the park, the play is under the constant supervision of the Meercat Mums.

So children are never bored, they never learn how to fill their own time, they never discover things for themselves.

I am in favour of children being bored.

And although the children are in no danger of falling from the climbing frame (because both parents are underneath with their arms outstretched waiting to catch them) we have no idea what damage is being done inside.

Children are being denied the chance to learn initiative and independence; they are not learning to take responsibility for their own actions.

In 30 years' time the prime minister will be saying: "Mum, can you do this for me?"

We should force ourselves to set our children free. They should walk to school on their own, go to the park with their mates and kick a ball about and climb trees that do not have rubber matting underneath.

The trouble is, we have made children so paranoid that if anyone suggested this to them, the kids would run a mile.

Or rather their parents would drive them.

A funny way to find Things – Apparently

I happened to mention my method of finding things to the Secretaries yesterday and they found it highly amusing… God knows why.

If I am looking for something that I haven’t used in a long time, i.e. yesterday I was looking for a software installation disk, I start off my looking in places I don’t think it will be.

It’s more of a matter of elimination.

You see, if I look in the place it should be, and it’s not there, then where the hell should I look.

SO.

I start off looking in obscure places that it might possibly have been left. After exhausting all of these, I then look it the place it should be, and low and behold there it is.

Everyone is happy.

Strange? No

Logical? Yes

My Latest Invention

Whilst walking past a Removal Van this morning on the way to work, and having worked in the Removal Business, I had a spark of inventiveness.

Right, here’s my idea.

On the inside roof of the Removal Van, you would have large balloon like thing, that would be connected to the Compress Air cylinder that does the Air Breaks.

Then when the van is full, you would inflate the balloon; this would then expand and eventually hold everything firmly in place.

Then when you get to where you are going simply release the value or press the decompress button.

Genius or what?

I shall consider this post my official patent of the invention.

TTFN

Booze Commando’s

The biggest ever scam, and adventure I have had the honour to be apart of.

It all started innocuous enough, just another day squatting in Crewe. Just waiting to sign on and then get down the Gym. Ady & I had spent a tiring year travelling the world and were taking some time out in Crewe, and enjoying the Roller Coaster Soap Opera like quality of life in the shadow of by my younger brother.

We were sat round just watching TV when Little Bro suddenly jumped up.

“Did you see that?” he shouts.

As it was the adverts, Ady & I weren’t really paying attention to the TV.

“On that ASDA advert, they said that if you can buy our Beer cheaper anywhere else, you get your money back and keep the Beer”.

So Little Bro is straight on the phone to ASDA’s head office to confirm the details, and made the woman on the other end repeat it two or three times that you get to keep the beer and the money….

Next thing Ady & I know, we are in the pickup and off to collect Little Bro’s partner in crime. After a quick stop at the cash point, we arrive at the Superstore Park on the other side of the road, with £2500 in cash.

We all file into ASDA and write down the cost of all the beers. We then walk next door to ALDI and look at their prices, where there was a cheaper difference we bought one.

So for example a pack of 12 cans of Guinness in ASDA was £10 and in ALDI in was £9.99, or Hooch was £1.50 a bottle in ASDA and only £1.45 in ALDI, so we also bought one bottle of hooch.

Once we had one unit of each of the cheaper stuff we threw them in the pickup and marched next door with the receipts.

We then grabbed two shopping trolley’s each and headed for the Alcohol section, and proceeded to clear the shelves of all the “dearer” booze.

Then the 4 of us rolled our 8 shopping trolley’s pilled high with Guinness, Hooch, Bitter, Larger etc to the tills and paid for them in cash.

At this point we had quite a following.

Once we had paid, which came to somewhere near the £2500 mark, we went straight to the customer service desk (approximately 10 steps away) and explained our situation to the Manager.

Excuse me love, we have just purchased this Alcohol and have suddenly realised that it is cheaper elsewhere, according to your advert we would like our money back, and to keep the beer, here is proof that it is cheaper elsewhere (showing her the till receipt from the ALDI next door).

Well, the look on her face. To cut a long story short, after 20 mins on the phone to head office, we accepted our Money back and loaded up the Pickup with £2500 worth of FREE booze.

We said we’ll be back in an hour, could you please stack the shelves back up, as we had cleared them out.

True to our word, we were back and did the exact same.

We then went to 3 more ASDA’s within a 30 mile radius.

At this point, ASDA had turned the corporate wheels, and limited the amount to £50 per customer.

And that is where the story should end….

However, we are talking Little Bro here.

So once our source of limitless free booze was cut off, he thought of one last thing to twist every last drop of entertainment out the current adventure.

We would sell our story to the press.

We then spent a wonderful afternoon in Manchester going round the National Papers to see who would pay the most for our story.

The New of the World won and off we went to take pictures of the Beer etc… At this point, we had a Garage full and we had removed all the furniture out of our living room and were sitting on chairs made from cans and cans of beer. It was bliss…

We also managed to sell the story to the Sunday Sport, but had to change it slightly as the News of the World had paid for an exclusive.

Finally we also ended up on the front page of the local newspaper, the Manx Independent.

And we all lived happily ever after.

The End.