Archive for March, 2009

Inside Out

sg1s0546

This is Napoleon and Tina – our two Clownfish. I love this photo showing the mini reef world of my nano tank and the reflection of my garden outside. A little joining of worlds that would never otherwise meet.

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Streetwoks

Cooking with gas and not electric thank goodness..

Cooking with gas and not electric thank goodness..

I’m on a course all week learning what I need to know to supervise gangs carrying out work in the road. I’ve coordinated Streetworks for years so this is something a little bit different (and actually hugely interesting – more so than you’d think). For example yesterday we looked at all the different kinds of cables you could hit whilst digging in the highway or footpath. Did you know that if you hit a High Voltage electric cable (11000v +) you can survive and think you got away with it….. However in two days time you’ll be dead because it kills you from the inside out!

Judging from the first day I’ll be learning a lot of usefull information the rest of the week. Here’s hoping I’ll learn how to spell Streetworks properly so that I don’t make spelling mistakes when searching Google for a post picture.

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Penguins Are Awesome

It was always the same, you could wait all day for a bus then 3 would arrive at once

'It was always the same, you could wait all day for a bus then 3 would arrive at once'

Image from National Geographic.. view more of their brilliant photos here

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Something That Made Me Laugh

bbOn Sunday afternoon we watched a DVD. It was a Chinese film called Beijing Bicycle, subtitled due to the original language being Mandarin.

I would happily watch only independent films even if it meant I could never see another blockbuster ever again, I’m also very partial to foreign subtitled films. Sometimes however, they can be a little hit and miss and Beijing Bicycle was just that.

As the credits began to roll I stretched in in my chair and Wil turned to look at me to gauge my reaction towards the film.

“WELL”, I said.. “I enjoyed the concept on the whole but I think they often spent too long focusing on the same scene. The scenes were too long. Other than that I can’t believe we just watched an entire film about some kids arguing over a bike.. what did you think?”

“I think they could have summed the whole bloody thing up in an advert, that was 3 hours of my life I’ll never get back”

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Cats

catsI won’t be making any friends with this post but sod it – this is my space to shout and shout I will. I bloody HATE cats. I’d rather be infested with mice, rats or any other vermin than have a cat stroll through my garden. I hate their smarmy faces, I hate their whingey yowls, I hate waking up in the middle of the night hearing them scream at each other like demonic babies, I hate the way they kill the birds that visit my garden and nest in my hedges and trees and I hate the way they half kill something, play with it and then leave it twitching on the doorstep as a little present. Hate, HATE HATE HATE. You get me? I hate them.

I hate the way they dig around in that disgusting litter tray you leave out for them, have a crap and then dig it all in with their shitty little paws and then you find it endearing when they jump up on your kitchen counter top while youre dishing out that vile smelling tinned death you feed them.

I hate the way they wander into the room after an outdoor killing spree and then take it upon themselves to pounce into your lap with their blood stained fishy mouths and start pawing at your lap pulling large plucks of your best cashmere cardy simultaneously with each claw. And then when that doesn’t fuck you off enough they stand up and arch their spine wiping their back and tail under your nose, punctuating that little gesture with a wink of their rusty sheriffs badge as they turn their arse to face you.

And for all that love and attention you lavish on these cretins they repay you by clawing at your walls and shredding your sofa arms. Nice. These things aren’t pets, they’re nothing more than a wild animal that you’re feeding and attempting to claim.  Kitty’s got news for you.

What I really have an issue with is the fact that I don’t own cats yet every other buggers cat is apparently entitled to use my garden as a shitter, is entitled to stalk and kill birds in my garden, that I can’t actively encourage or feed the birds in my garden for fear of the cats getting them. Not only that but the cats around here use a large wooden planter in my front garden as a scratching post and have done this so much they’ve actually scratched their way through about 2cms of a railway sleeper. They also take great pleasure in sitting and taunting my guinea pigs that have permanent year round access to their outdoor run which is joined on to their hutch.

I hate them, they’re vile, smelly, dirty horrid creatures who couldn’t give two shits whether you exist or not as long as you keep handing out the food they’ll keep returning.

After Wil removed 3 piles of foul smelling cat shit from the grass in our garden on Friday my blood was really boiling. I’d watched earlier as a massive fat pure white cat with the ugliest face I’ve ever seen welcomed itself into my garden over the fence and then proceeded to march across the lawn and flower beds in order to crawl through the hedgerow.

I’ll warn you now cat lovers. If your cat makes it into my garden expect not to see it again for some time because it’s new home will be in my shed. And when you start posting ‘LOST FLUFFY’ posters around the village I’ll verify my captives mugshot and ring the number for you to come and collect it.

Just be warned that when you get here, you’ll not only get your shitty cat back, but it’ll come with a free shovel with which you’ll set about cleaning up my garden.

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Well Done. No, Really… Well Dumb You Celebrities

malaria6001

All he needed was a treatment for Malaria, but he gave it to a bunch of ungrateful celebs who moaned their way around his country and then went home to their overpaid jobs.

The hour of BBC television I’ve just sat through was not so much Comic Relief as it was FUCKING ANNOYING.

Ferne Cotton looked like a pastey ghost as she vomited her way up Killimanjaro. Gary ‘Backache’ Barlow hobbled up like a old man, Cheryl Cole acted like a whingey 5 year old, nearly breaking into tears at the site of some ants on the ground followed by Alicia Dixon who cackled her way up making sure she looked the part decorated with accessories from New Look. Oh, and there was Ronan Keating – he’s just a bit ginger in his old age.

This whole concept of ‘Wow, I really fancy climbing Mt Killimanjaro, I know I’ll get the the mugs of the UK to pay for it, because c’mon everyone – IT’S FOR CHARITY’ really makes me cross. Hang on.. you want me to ‘sponsor’ you to basically pay for you to have an amazing experience and then watch you moan your way through it. I sponsor people for making a sacrifice, for putting their own money, time, elbow grease into something remarkable. I see these trips in my running magazines all the time ‘Sponsored Run the Inca Trail’ and ‘Cycle the Great Wall of China’ to make money for Cancer victims… such a farce – what happend to people paying for their own holidays?

There were about 400 people following these celebrity fuckwits up that mountain. When we take into consideration those celebrities, their kit, their flights, the carbon footprint, their tents, the training, the extra food and the total entourage they had to accompany them to tote their bags, cuddle them when they felt sick, spoon feed them when they cried and probably wipe their asses and use all the medication they required – HOW MUCH DID THIS ALL COST? Each one of those celebs who did the walk had about 5 people to support them. It wasn’t so much a climb as it was a bloody stroll in the park. When you looked past them in their wooly hats, puffer jackets, thermal trousers, boots and crampons you saw the rest of the 100 or so locals who’d turned up to slave away behind the pathetic bunch, wearing nothing more than jeans and trainers. Kind of minimised the magnitude.

The only ones who did the whole thing any justice at all were Ben, Kimberly and Denise Van Outen. Of course a side benefit of the whole thing is that Chris Moyles seems to have turned himself into the size of one person instead of two. I’d like to say he didn’t whinge but I think he spent most of the time so out of breath enough that he couldn’t open that annoying pie hole to moan. When he did catch his breath he managed to grumble about wanting to be off the mountain.

What a disappointing hyped up load of crap. I’m glad they made money doing it but I’d really like to know how the profit for charity balances out after all is said and paid for. And I’d like to know what their view is on the Anti-Malarial medications they’ll all have been vacinated with for the trip to go and visit those dying kids in hospital who weren’t fortunate enough to have it.

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Frazzled

It’s been a manic week so far. Work is so busy as there are 3 of us doing the job of double the amount of people. Fortunately we’ve got a great boss and she’s heard my screams of pain and is organising some help. I just can’t believe the nastiness some people put effort into in the work place. Isn’t it shit enough that we have to spend the bigger part of our lives in a job to pay the bills without actively going out of our way to be shitty to other people?

On top of this I haven’t been sleeping well. Last night I woke up at 3am and nevermind that my semi conscieous brain was whispering ‘shhh! don’t think, just go back to sleep… sleep… sleep’ part of it was all ‘I need to get Cams passport sorted, I must get his photo done, I need to test the water level in the marine tank, I’ll start working on those procedure notes for Section 74 charging tomorrow, this year I need to pick up my Spanish course again’ and it went on and on and on. At some point Wil turned over and began scratching a part of his body which led me to believe he was awake and since I was desperately bored of laying there awake at the mercy of my overactive brain I whispered ‘Are you awake?’ there was no reply. So I whispered a bit louder and then came the reply… a bit of a grunt. The kind of grunt that suggested ‘YES I’M AWAKE NOW THAT YOU’VE ASKED ME SEVERAL TIMES RATHER LOUDLY’. I shut up and somewhere between here and there I fell back asleep.

It’s not all bad – the weekend was great. We visited a couple of new Aquarium places and came home with two new corals for the marine tank. A Button Polyps and Star Xenia. They’ve settled in without any problems so far as has their new counterpart ‘Napoleon Dynamite’ the Percula Clownfish… to those of you who are fish illiterate that’s a Finding Nemo Fish. He’s a bit weird – a lot more lively than I expected and a lot less concerned with anything else in the tank. He spends all of his time actively swimming back and fourth against the glass frontage of the tank.

Aside from Napoleon, Rossi and Valentino are doing really well. Valentino moulted his shell successfully and returned much larger than before. He’s been actively digging burrows all over the place. Rossi is turning out to be one fat bastard. I actually thought he might burst earlier on when he was scoffing down blood worm. He’s brilliant – one of the most mesmorising fish I’ve ever had. Bad news however, Jeremy Beadle died. Yeah, I know Jeremy Beadle as in ‘the’ Jeremy Beadle died.. but so did our Hermit Crab. Unexplained… just seems to be one of the things we haven’t been successful with keeping in our marine tank.

The weekend went well until I came to clean out my freshwater tank. As usual Wil and I assume the same tasks that make it a speedy affair – we have a routine and it works well. He manages the waste water disposal as I control the vacuum on the tank floor and suck out any debris while syphoning 20% of the water out. However this time it had fatal consequences and I managed to get one of my Corydora fish lodged in the pipe and the suction pressure pulled some of it’s inners out of it’s gills leaving it in a really bad way. We quickly did all we could and euthanised it in a glass of Vodka. The image of one of my favourite fish laying there in the bottom of the tank with it’s guts protruding from it’s gills isn’t something that will leave my mind. And along with all the other crap I woke up thinking about this has certainly been forefront of my thoughts. A completely freak accident but completely awful and I feel shitty about it.

So there it is… I’m currently pissed as a fart after turning to a huge G&T in the hopes that  I might get a full night sleep tonight before returning to work for another battering tomorrow. Therefore I completely release myself from all spelling and grammatical errors in this post because hey, how the hell was it ever going to turn out on a day that started with me sat on the toilet having a poo while drinking my cup of tea and checking the boys homework using his iPod Touch as a calculator?

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