Well, lets get the members of my household out of the way, and then we can get down to the nitty gritty of my entries – ooh matron (sorry). My wife, who genuinely astounds me, for the amount of patience and understanding she has, works in the forensic field, and therefore will be known hence forth as ‘Miss Marple’. We have two six month old Jack Russells, who eat horse crap, and dead rodents, and five cats, who supply the dead rodents. We live in a nice little house out in the fens, surrounded by fields and live next door to an elderly gentleman. Not much to complain about there then, you might say. I would agree with you, but somehow I manage to find an almost endless torrent of stuff to hasten premature death! I have a menial job, which is ok, and helps keep all the furry people in the manner to which they have become accustomed. So there is my life in a nutshell.
So, here we are then, Monday morning, the 30th July 2007. Woke up with a semi hangover. Lets get this out of the way right now…..I drink too much. Not in an alcoholic kind of way, you know, half drunk bottles of scotch in the toilet cistern and stuff, no, it’s just that when I have a drink, I HAVE A DRINK. I can’t seem to leave it at a couple, I’ve got to finish what I have. To me that is more sort of ‘honest’ in a mental kind of way. I drink for the effect of the alcohol. I absolutely can’t stand those irritating bastards (you see, I’ve started), that say "Oh well of course, I don’t drink to get drunk", well what the bloody hell are you drinking for then you prat?. Have a cup of tea. It’s a drug, it has an effect on the brain, that’s what it does. I have never ever heard a smack head say, "Oh well of course, I don’t take heroin to get high". You see, the conclusion that can be made from this is, social drinkers are liars, heroine addicts are the salt of the earth! Anyway, so up I get, wander about with all the usual aches and pains, and have to make the first decision of the day. Do I stand approx six feet from the toilet and aim, or lean with one hand on the wall at a forty-five degree angle. Yes, this is of course the dilemma of the morning glory. It’s a difficult choice to make, especially with an alcohol riddled brain. The six foot method is fraught with danger. The timing of the shuffle forward towards the toilet has to be timed to perfection, in relation to the decrease in flow. On the other hand, the forty-five degree lean can also be hazardous. Pins and needles can occur in the ‘leaning hand’, and in severe cases, cramp can occur in one, or both calf muscles. Phew, it’s not easy is it! The rest of the time before work, is spent with the usual crap that we all have to do. Toast making, ablutions, watching GMTV. God I hate GMTV. I don’t know why the hell I watch it!. The only part of GMTV that is acceptable, is Penny Smith. I know she is definitely a bit unhinged, but I find her very sexy. I don’t know why, but I get the impression she knows her way around the bedroom!....anyway, I would!. (Looks over his shoulder sheepishly, in case Miss Marple is in eye shot). The rest of GMTV is the biggest pile of inane codswallop that I have ever seen. It will never cease to amaze me, how they can switch from interviewing a five year old who is dying from cancer, and his distraught mother, straight over to "and next, do you want to win a years subscription to hello magazine, and a car worth ten thousand pounds?, well join us after the break"…..BASTARDS!. As I said, I don’t know why I watch it. Perhaps it’s the modern day version of the horse hair shirt! So off to work. If watching GMTV hasn’t sent me over the edge, then the journey to work will most certainly do the job. The list of annoyances attributed to driving is endless, and it would be tiresome to write them all down. So let me pick on the one that can act as a representative for the whole damn lot. BMW Drivers!. Yes I know it’s a bit of a cliché and all that, but it’s true. They really are a bunch of tossers. Yes I am generalizing, yes I am stereotyping, but that’s because it is true. If there are any BMW drivers reading this – or more to the point if there is anybody, reading this!, please let me know the answer to a question, that has bugged me for years. Do you have to be a dickhead to buy one, or are you transformed into a dickhead, after buying one?. Perhaps you can be either. Those who are already dickheads, get the certificate straight away, those that aren’t, have to go on an intense training course. Spend a week at ‘Dickhead School’. Lessons would include, cutting people up, thepositioning of the indicators, so that they can be ignored. Tailgating, and the most important lesson of all, how to plough down the outside of a line of traffic that is crawling agonizingly slowly along, and then think it is a rite, dictated by God, that someone should just let them in. Finally before receiving the certificate from King Dickhead at BMW, They are told that they are the most important people on the planet, and every other mere mortal should kneel before them. Blood pressure has gone up!. I am constantly surprised lately, just how well I can drive with minimal concentration! My concentration levels in general seem to be dropping, but especially when behind the wheel. As I was driving along this morning, I was thinking, I would actually much rather be clinging to the side of a speeding locomotive, with the smoke from the engine, flying past my face, than driving to work. -It can’t just be me that has these fantasies?.....Go on, tell me it is!.- I would climb onto the roof of the train, to be faced with two bad guys, one either side of me. A fight would ensue, with me using various kung foo techniques, and the two baddies would be dispatched, just as I dived down to avoid the oncoming bridge. Hoorah, the ten year old is not dead!. Anyway, here I am at work, and so not much to report. Will write later if anything exciting happens…….Probably be tomorrow then.
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