Thursday, August 31, 2006

Thursdays suck

I hate thursdays. They're well into the week, which is good, but still leave the week end just a little too far out of reach. Went to a leaving do last night and I think I'm still drunk now. The guy leaving was cas called Dave Mather. Quite a good bloke, when all is said and done, but I reckon he has done me over. Not his fault, but he has left a couple of days before me and so my leaving do will now be judged in terms of his and he is a bit of a Mr. Popular. I can imagine the tea room chat on monday morning, "Ooh, poor old Rob, I bet he is gutted at the poor turn out for his send off". Yeah, well, I don't care because I'll be in bed sleeping whilst they are at work. So, who is laughing then? Then again, I doubt Mags will let me sleep in when "there is sooo much that needs doing around this shit hole". I expect she'll be busy drawing up the list right now. Let me sleep woman! I think I've earnt it.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Time...


Why does the clock's second hand move so slowly when you are watching it?
What's even worse than having one clock to watch is having a bank of them, tick-tocking above your head.
I've now only got 25 minutes left before I can go home. It seems like years. Each tick of the second hand seems to be taking an eon. I'm sure some of the clocks are sometimes going backwards. Oh please, let this boring day come to an end!

Monday, August 28, 2006

I saw Shirley this morning. I was right, she is at Mad Cat Woman's. Traitor cat!
MCW was snooping around last night. I looked out the kitchen window and there she was, snooping around the bins. I went outside and asked if there was a problem, she just sniffed at me and said that she thought she saw movement. The only movement should be my foot into her backside. Nosey old witch. I think she looks in the recycle bins and counts the empty booze bottles (wine, beer, etc), not that there are that many mind. I think she notes the numbers down in her little book and if they ever reach a certain number she'll be onto Alcoholics Annonymous or the beer police or something and turn us in.

I'll try and snap a picture of MCW so you can see what she is like. Picture the type of crone that in the good old days would have been burnt at the stake and add some veiny red cheekys and more chins than Harold from Neighbours. God, I hate neighbours. Both the TV show and the real ones. Mags loves the soaps, so I have to put up with them too. East Enders, Emerdale, Hollyoaks, Neighbours and bloody Corrie! All of them! I like a bit of action on TV but she hates anything that hints of violence, says it turns her stomach, well soaps turn mine but that arguement holds no weight.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Okay, so Shirley has run away. Shirley is one of our cats. Mags wanted cats and now she says she can't stand them. "They leave fur everywhere", she says. What does she expect? They're cats for Gods sake! Anyway, Shirl has gone. I think mad cat woman from across the road has her. She was always threatening to get the cats taken away. She is a right old busy body. Talk about a nosey neighbour! Her, the old bird from next door but one and her other friend. They could start a covern. Being a fly on the wall round there would be like watching a scene from MacBeth. Whinge, whinge, whinge! Havnt they got anything better to do? They called the police out last week. Opposite our house is a school. Some kids were hanging around there, like kids do and whallop, police called. A right bunch of curtain twitchers. I remember when our oldest cat, Pete, got stuck up one of the trees outside the school. I was asleep and I heard a banging on the front door. I pulled on my jeans and ran down, expecting world war three to be breaking out and its her, mad cat woman. A look of glee on her fat red face. "Oh, I thought you'd like to know, but your cat Peter has got himself in a predicament". Predicament! Why can't she just come out and say it. He was stuck up a tree! Okay I thought, thanks for telling me, he's a cat, he'll sort himself out. When he's hungry he'll come down. It was then that I looked outside and saw it. There were two fire engines and half the street stood round looking up at the tree. Jesus!
"I think you'd better go and have a word", she said. No shit Sherlock! So I lifted my head, put my shoulders back and mustered what dignity I could and marched through the tittering crowd to one of the firemen.
"Sorry, erm, that's my cat up there", I muttered.
"Oh dear" was the reply.
"Can you get him down?", I asked.
"No"
"What do you mean, no?", I said.
"He's too high and the tree isn't strong enough to take the weight of the ladder. Too dangerous", he said.
"So, you're just leaving him there?", I asked.
"Nah. We're sending for the rescue platform".
Rescue platform! What the hell! We already had half the fire brigade and their assorted vehicles and they were sending for back-up!
"What's the rescue platform", I finally dared to venture.
"Big ol' hydraulic platform", he said, "been looking for a chance to try her out". He smiled, rubbed his chin and then made the announcement. I didnt like the announcement.
"I hope you love your cat. He's costing you a pretty penny", he announced.
"What do you mean?", I asked.
"Well, for starters, you've got twenty two men here, two engines and a third on the way and...", he looked at his watch, "we're on time and a half right now". He smiled again.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"I didn't ring you", I said.
"Doesnt matter. It's your cat. It's funny really, we don't go out for cat-in-tree calls anymore. They normally get routed to the RSPCA and they handle it, but somehow the call got put through to us. Bit of a boo-boo, must be a new operator or something.". He smiled again.
I'm in debt up to my eyeballs right now. Mostly from the wedding and honeymoon but also from the fiasco that was the business I tried to start. I'll mention that some other time, I'm too depressed to think about it now.
Anyway, the rescue platform arrived with the appropriate ceremony. A giant red wagon, sirens wailing and lights flashing, came zooming down the otherwise quiet (except for an ever growing crowd) road. It parked up and I watched and counted the next group of overtime ready firemen disembark. Six, seven, eight, brilliant! No doubt I'm getting the bill for them as well. The other firemen were getting stuck into a cup of tea and some biscuit, courtesy of gloating MCW (mad cat woman). I could hear her informing one of the firemen of the irresponsible manner in which I looked after my cats. He shook his head slowly and looked over at me, his disdain obvious. Magic. Thanks MCW.
Anyway, Pete was lowered to safety and the crowd dispersed, throwing a few glances over their shoulder at me and hiding a couple more giggles. The fire engines departed, leaving just me and MCW stood watching them go.
"You're lucky I saw him go up that tree and called the fire brigade", she said, "otherwise he might still be in a predicament"
I smiled a short, quick smile and wend back in. Thoughts of ringing her scrawny, turkey like neck ran through my mind, but I was strong enough to resist....this time.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

My mate has started up a band. He used to be in one when we were at school and he says he really misses the buzz, although I think the real reason is to give him a more legitimate excuse to get out of the house now his mother-in-law has moved in (she had a stroke and can't take care of herself anymore). As much as I feel sorry for her, she is quite a hateful old bag. Sorry, I know, I should be more understanding, but my dad died from a stroke last year and I think I should be allowed to say what I think.
Anyway, the band. He has called it Ham Head. It was meant to be called Hammer head but something happened at the printers, where he was getting some flyers knocked up and they lost the "mer". He says that he can't afford to reprint them and the printers are adamant that they printed what he sent them (quite possible as he is a clumsy git), so he is sticking with it. Ham head, hmmm, I don't know, it is kind of funny so it might work. Not quite the same impact as Hammer head though, is it.

Sunday, August 13, 2006


Owen took his first steps today! Wow! He has been crawling like a mad thing for a few weeks and getting his little hands into whatever he could but he hadnt shown any signs of walking. One of Maggie's sister's kids, who are the same age as Owen, have been walking for about a month (and they let you know it too). Cheeky bitch was hinting that O was a bit backward! Well good for him, he's up and away! I'm so proud. You should see his little face as he totters along. He's loving it. We went for a picnic over the long weekend. O had a superb time, running around and hassling he other kids. Maggie kicked off, as usual, said that when I have a beer I get funny. Funny! What the hell is funny? Ok, I like to have a cheeky beer now and then. It's not like I'm an alcoholic or anything. What happens when people have a few beers? They get a bit drunk. I never raise my hand to her or treat her badly, in fact I'm just the opposite. I'm attentive and always trying to make her happy, so where does she get off saying I get funny. I went ballistic. I demanded that she gave me a specific example and she couldnt. I asked her what she meant by "funny" and she was all, "well, you know" and "sort of like, well, funny". How unhelpful could she be? Still, O had a good day and that's what matters.

Friday, August 04, 2006

I'm crap with computers. I even had to get my brother to set this blog up for me. Of course he knows all about blogs and the internet and everything. Pompous tosser. He thinks he has done another favour for his incompetent little brother! I wish he would stop calling me little brother. He knows it winds me up. He is like 180 seconds older than me and he never lets me forget it. It reminds me of the time I got drunk at Cheryl Parkers party and took a swing at him. Caught him right under the eye. He didnt even budge. Just rubbed his eye, rolled me under his arm and took me home. Never even mentioned it the next day. I had seriously tried to knock him out. He didnt even budge! Bastard! Why is he so good at everything? Even not being knocked out. I bet if he had slapped me with a kipper I would have dropped like a sack of shit. He really does do everything so damned well! It wouldnt surprise me if Maggie was shagging him. She says that other than looking alike we are so different and when she says "different" there is this little sparkle in her eye. I know she fancies him. She is always wanting us to go over with the boy and visit. She says that Owen should see more of his uncle, but I know its just so she can perve over him. Then again, Bianca, Rich's girlfriend, is rather tasty. So whats sauce for the goose and all that. Argh! That reminds me. When I got married, I thought, now, finally, ma would give me a mention, rather than Richard this and Richard that, but nah. They came to the wedding. They smiled and clapped and all that but not a susage more. Once everything was over and we were back from the honeymoon (disaster! and I'll mention it later) it was back to "Oh, did you hear that Richard is going to New York" and "Richard's business is doing really well" etc. I hate living in the shadow of Mr. Perfect.