26th January 2005
Well, T-0
Today I get on a DC9 (which is my least favored of all the planes) to AMS and thence to MAN. I will be in cattle class with the chickens and oiks. How very uncivilized.
I will then be transported from MAN to The People's Republic of Bryn whence I will be indulged with a schnitzel or two.
Blogging will be non-existant until I manage to sort out a laptop. Hopefully, I'll see you in a few days. Be good now.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 09:33 CST
25th January 2005
Scotty sucks
You know when he said "ya canna change the laws of physics?"
Well he was talking shite.
Natzoid and I have just managed to move a three-seater sofa, constituted of what I can only assume is plutonium and plutonium wood, down our stairs and managed to finagle the thing into the skip. We're now having four teabags and three sugars per cup in reward for our Herculean efforts.
As Natzoid says, she's strong. Apparently two small ponies strong. She'd beat me weight-lifting at this moment. But just wait until I'm back on form. Arm-wrestle you N for who gets the left side of the bed!
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 13:17 CST
Bollocks
We have work to do today and I am in no mood for it. None the less, it needs to be done. Hence the bollocks. We have a skip (roll-off for the Yanks) arriving shortly and we're going to be pitching an awful lot of stuff. Furniture that the kids have drawn on and the dogs have chewed. No point in keeping rubbish in storage where all of our worldly goods are heading.
It's a funny thing. Worldly goods seem so immaterial if you get my drift. The only things we really cherish are my grandfather's pocket watch, the photos and the platters that N's grandmother brought from Russia. Everything else is disposable. When times get tough, you get disconnected from your belongings.
I've done it before and it doesn't hurt in the slightest. As I have said before, when we first moved to Minnesota, we had nothing but a blow-up mattress and a pack of cards. N will leave with more than that, but not much more. Time to start anew.
In some respects, we're very positive. We've decided that when I return, we'll set up our own web design company in the Quad Cities because no-one there has a web site and it's ripe for the picking. And the cost of living could be covered with a miniscule amount of my old pay check. N can probably buy a house with the equity we have in this one.
Time to rebuild.
I also need to get round to actually packing. I have compiled many lists but not actually done anything about it. In fact, my suitcase remains firmly entrenched in the basement. I should at least pull it upstairs today and pretend to pack.
In 24 short hours, I'll be heading to the airport sans Worldclub card (which sucks.)
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 09:39 CST
24th January 2005
How's about no?
Shut up you militant bunch of despotic dickheads. Moving internet sites is not a breach of human rights dickwads. Beheading people is. Get your own house in order before you start throwing stones at mine.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 15:02 CST
Packing
You know what is really hard? Packing for an unspecified amount of time. Natzoid has asked me to get all my clothes together so she can do a run to the laundromat (thanks to our POS washer being bust.)
And as I sat here pontificating, she hugged me and played the Pogues on her computer. You have no idea how soft her skin is. It's electric too. Once again the tears fell. This time from both of us.
I can honestly say this is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. And I'm not liking it.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:12 CST
Sheesh
Could there be any more typos in yesterday's post? Collon-mellie, sure, but no excuse for typos. Forgive me father for I cannot spell. It's the throat thing that tends to distract the brain.
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate doctors?
T-2. Bollocks.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:27 CST
23rd January 2005
T-3
Well it appears I have myself a quack back in the UK. My mum has sorted out some butcherer for me to go and consult. No doubt he'll be ready with knife primed ready to remove some lymph node or piece of thyroid. I hate him already.
The last time (and only time) I have spent a night in hospital was when I had a layrngoscopy when they first tried to diagnose this shit. They gave me Novocaine as an anaesthetic and I was parlyzed for 12 hours. Thankfully, my dad turned up with a hip flask of whiskey to beat the blues and I walked out 12 hours later. He's considerate like that.
The most devastating thing about all of this is what I leave N to clean up. She's packing and generally being a superstar. I have a list of things to take back to the UK with me while she organises a whole house and family.
It's hard not to sit back and think that this is all my fault. Because, in reality, it is. I was the one who lost my job and then descended into depression. I was the one who consistantly failed to get a grip. And now the cost is evident. We lose our house and I end up institutionalised. Tell me that is not my fault. I have cried and cried and cried. I have no right to be married to someone who is so strong. Or maybe it's a levelling. The weak and the strong become the average.
N is not average. She's a bulldozer of an intellect and a God-given savior for me. I would fold in this situation without her. I'm still folding but she's battling as well as supporting me. I broke down today and told her that it was all my fault. You know what she said? "No - it isn't. You did your best."
Unfortunately, my best appears to be not good enough. Instead, I'm off back for medical treatement to the UK. Can you feel anymore pathetic? Meanwhile N deals with the house.
Makes me feel like a pile of garbage waiting to be picked up from Manchester airport. Which is literally what my parents will collect on Thursday...the shattered pieces of a once useful citizen. Who needs a quack. I'd do the same for my kids. I hope they never get to this pont though. There's low and then there's buried.
Back to Wigan I fly. I don't even know where my cash will come from.
Yeah, a bit depressed peeps. So would you be if you were leaving your family for an unknown amount of time.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 18:47 CST
22nd January 2005
White horror
Even by Minnesota standards, the amount of snow we had overnight is obscene. Poor Bowie (and I use that phrase rarely) can barely move. The white horror is up to the Orange Bastard's stomach. Of course, the OB loves it. Stupid OB.
I sat cursing at how horrible it is until it was pointed out that I rarely leave the house and that I wouldn't know what to do with a snow-blower ergo the missus would take care of it. You feel a bit inadequate when even the kid is looking at you like you are a gimp.
Mid-Westerners are a different breed. They see a couple of feet of snow and say things like "Bit of snow eh?" The rest of the world looks at a couple of feet of snow and says "Fuck!"
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 10:52 CST
Sublime
Sometimes, it's better to gloat on others' misfortune. Today is one of those days.
Southampton 2 - 0 Liverpool
Do you realise how widely I smiled when I read and wrote that? It's like summer, Xmas and sex rolled into one.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 10:28 CST
21st January 2005
Checklist
I just reviewed my packing list. I used to be able to pack for anywhere within minutes, and now I'm making lists. Unfortunately the list betrays my character too much:
Passports
US & UK Driver's licenses
Cash
NHS number
Webcam
Speakers
Fuji camera and cable
CDs (including Redhat CDs)
Triband Nokia phone
US cell phone
Psion and HP Journada
UK power adapters
PHP/MySQL and XHTML reference books
Modem extension cable
PCMCIA network card
Business cards
Suit
Shoes
Clothes
I guess I might have my priorities a bit whizzy eh?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 08:53 CST
20th January 2005
Un-frickin'-believable
I've just read an Ananova report that I shall not link to because they change their links more often than Osama Bin Hidin' changes his cave. Apparently, Channel 4 in the UK have started filming (or intend to) the journals (read blog) of famed semi-blogger Belle De Jour, an alleged prostitute in London.
Honest to God, what the hell is up with TV stations? Reality TV is not only dull but it's paparazzi. To be a hooker or ho is one thing, to write about it is another. To make a show based on it is just lascivious.
Rumor has it that the "author" in question signed a six figure deal while speculation mounts as to their identity and whether she's a fake character created by some twisted mind. Whatever. It seems to be a common trend; you create a fictional persona and then blog your delusions. There was a famed dupe in Minnesota where some bloke created an alleged lesbian girl's blog (I forget the name of it as it was utterly mundane) and now we have the replicas coming out of the proverbial closet to do likewise. There's Belle De Jour and another one out of New York who sent me an email asking me to link to her diaries of being an ass. No thanks. I wonder how many others there are.
If your self-respect is so low that you are willing to do have sex with total strangers for money, and you are semi-literate enough to blog it, you're doomed. Have fun at the doctor's when the inevitable happens! The only prescription you'll need is for a little known drug called MORALS.
If your love for money is so great, go rob a bank. It's entirely more acceptable than what you are doing.
Oh, and quit blogging. The last thing we need is your kind in our space. First amendment be damned. I'm sick of your wanton titilation sites.
Here endeth the rant.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 09:37 CST
19th January 2005
Far from convincing
The Exeter vs Man U FA Cup tie got the right result. Eventually. But as my old physics teacher used to say, every couple has its moments. And boy did Utd have a few dodgy ones. I outright screamed twice even though I knew both the kids were taking a nap.
One thing has to be said though; based on that performance Exeter's 18-year old keeper, Paul Jones, is destined for great things. England keeper anyone? I don't know why but I can always spot talent in young keepers.
All that game proved was that without Roy Keane, we look like a non-league side. And I'm not afraid to say it. One minute we're holding Chelsea away, the next we're beating Liverpool and the next we look like we are a Conference team. My heart can't take this.
Oh, and I'd just like to gloat on the fact that I so totally called that Burnley result. Thankyou.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 16:24 CST
18th January 2005
Psychic defectives
Call me Harry Potter or Mystic Mog or whatever, but I have a horrible (yet sexually arousing) feeling that Burnley are going to beat Liverpool today.
I think I might buy a lottery ticket.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 10:12 CST
A random of serial events
After many days of trying to confirm my flight, yesterday we gave up. Then I remembered my old travel agent Advent. MaryK performs miracles. You could be stuck in the middle of the Sahara with the next pack-llama not due for 3 months and she'll still have you home in time for lunch. The number of times she rescued my butt from airline delays and hotel over-booking is legendary. I think she walks on water and has a side-line converting said water into wine as she passes over it. If you live in Minneapolis, this is the company to use.
Just after the travel had been confirmed, I received a surprise call from the ear-porningly lovely MS Luminous. Unfortunately I was so fatigued and flat that I was about as entertaining as a stuffed ferret. I have my moments. That was not one of them. Sorry Missy. I probably bored her into gnawing her own legs off.
Later on I recovered somewhat. It's amazing what an episode of CSI will do for you. I'm sure I said something but-gusting as Natzoid told me I had to blog it. Unfortunately, I have a crap memory for anything that isn't data or fact based so I instantly forgot. Sorry N.
I'm away to compile a list of things that I need to take back to the UK with me. Or was that a list of CDs? Who bloody knows. I'll probably arrive with all my gadgets and no clothes, then be arrested by customs for trafficing. Back in a bit.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 09:35 CST
17th January 2005
Interesting info
When I put in my new drive, I accidentally cut one of the cables that supply the output from the DVD drive. I don't use my PC for DVDs anyway, so I worked around the problem. This means I have a dangly wire (ooerr missus.)
A while ago I started hearing a clicking noise quite loudly because as you will know, I am a geek so I have the machine open for easy access. "Oh God thought I, not another dead drive."
But I have just noticed what the cause of the problem is. The line I cut is sat directly on the ribbon cable that connects all the PCI gubbins to the motherboard. And it is actually arcing. Not visibly just in sound.
Who'd have thunk such a small voltage would do that?
Guess I'd better move away from the cable eh?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 14:28 CST
Cheeky gits
Background: C spent the night last night and was told to be home by 10:00.
Scene 1: (In the control room at yc.)
Kenny: Shouldn't you be home by now?
C: Oh it doesn't matter, I'm only babsitting my little brother.
S: Didn't you say your mum went to work at 8?
C: Yeah. He'll be OK.
Kenny: I think that if your mum asked you to be home at 10, she probably had her reasons. Most adults do.I don't know the reasoning but I am sure there is some.
C: I'll bribe him to tell her I was home.
Kenny: I am having no part in this. I'm going to be a party-pooper I'm afraid.
C: How will she know?
Kenny: Well if I were your mum, I would call.
S,C: Mumble, mumble. Groan, groan.
Exit C stage right.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:18 CST
16th January 2005
ETD
Not Eastern time, dsylexic. Departure time.
I leave to go back to the UK on the 26th of this month. Whatever is wrong with me is getting steadily worse so it's time to do the unthinkable. I get on a plane and disappear for an unknown amount of time while I leave Natzoid and the kids to sell the house and move back to IL. It's the hardest decision I have ever made. To be so useless is pathetic. But to become even more useless will not really help.
God knows how long I will be there. I'll miss N, the kids and the dogs more than you can know.
I suspect I will be hospitalized as soon as I get there so there may well be a blogging intermission although my parents' have very kindly offered to buy me a laptop so maybe I can blog from Wigan Infirmary or (heaven forbid) that Scouse one. Visiting hours will be announced.
Until then I will blog when I am capable of typing.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 10:26 CST
14th January 2005
Grumpy
I'm in pain so I'm grumpy. Be forewarned.
I have just heard the most stupid thing I have ever heard: some political git saying "we'll be fighting the war on terrorism for another fifteen years."
Do I need to point out what a donkey of a statement that is? You'd think that terrorism was invented in 2001 and never existed prior. You Irish Americans who have never been there, you know where your funding goes? Yeah - the IRA. Original definition of terrorists. Murdering bastards. Gerry Adams should have been taken out by MI5 years ago. Think Spock logic...the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.
Think of Gerry Adams as Osama Bin Hidin'. Yes he's responsible for more deaths than his O-liness. And worse. Do I see a mission to get him? No. And that infuriates me.
I told you I was grumpy. You would be too if you had vomitted (B word excluded.) And then had to clean it up before the orange bastard went in for the lick factor. The bugger thought it was Xmas and I proved I was twice as cunning as a DOG. Go me. You may be a filthy animal but even while wretching, I can out-smart you. Go me AGAIN. Turns out it's not Xmas...All Hallows my dear orange filthy git.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 15:44 CST
13th January 2005
Two rants and a funeral
WTF is up with Indonesia? Talk about cutting your nose off to spite your face. I watched CNN in horror as they demanded US troops get out even though they have just experienced probably the biggest disaster of modern times. Someone sent an email to Cafferty that summed up my feelings perfectly; let your fellow Muslim nations help you. Oh wait, they couldn't give a shit. Too bad for your people arseholes.
Prince frickin' Harry should be hung with the rest of the tossers. What an arse. It beggars belief.
And now to sadness. N's Uncle Bill has died. I never met the guy but if N loved him, he was worth loving. RIP Bill. I'll see ya at a later date.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 09:17 CST
Scramalamadingdong
The missus has chastised me for not linking to Sammy. It wasn't because I didn't want to link to her, just that I had some concerns about her privacy and safety.
I know that there are paranoid people out there who wouldn't post their photo on the net if their life depended on it but they are adults. As I said to Natzoid last night, I don't care who can find me...I can take care of myself. I do worry about Sam though, so have issued some ground rules to her. No mentioning which school she goes to or where she lives. No friends' real names or teachers'.
I think that's OK n'est-ce pas?
I also think that her blog really troubles me just because it betrays her nature; she's a clone of her mum. Can the world cope?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 09:01 CST
Pure class
I just got an email from an old school friend. He signed it "have you ever built a robot?"
I don't know about you, but at this time in the morning, that just about cracked me up.
It's even more funny 'cos he's an architect.
Sometimes I scare myself.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 08:49 CST
12th January 2005
Golf
My daughter is currently 29 over par on the fifth hole, completely wrecking my stats. It's a husband/wife thing. You wouldn't understand.
29 over par?? Read it and weep. Her golf genes must be mine rather than the missus's.
However at least I managed to persuade the missus to pick up some brandy for my bloody throat. I'm croaking like a croaking thing on St Croaking's day here. Oh, and hurting.
Really though. 29 over par!
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 17:44 CST
The curse of the throat
My throat is killing me. And slowly at that. The bastard.
I've read up on thyroid issues and know that they can affect your throat but this is getting daft. It's an ungodly pressure on your throat. It requires brandy, which we have none of. Again, the bastard.
You have no idea how painful this is. It's like being slowly strangled by a midget with a noose.
I think my trip back to the UK to visit the NHS needs to be expedited. I can't take much more without nuking South American dictatorships.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 13:38 CST
11th January 2005
What have I done?
I just set up the kid a blog. She's wanted one forever. I finally caved. She's eleven for Crimminy's sake. What does an eleven year old have to blog about, other than how nasty mean step-fathers are who took so long to set her up with a blog.
On a tenuous but similar theme, you might want to check your texting. Especially when N leaves her phone at home. I'm looking at two people. In case you hadn't noticed, she is my wife, not yours. And woe betide anyone who stands in our way.
I'm just getting a bit sick of the thing, is all. Yeah, she's fun, cute and friendly. Unfortunately, I am not so get the hell out. Or I will cut ya. I also do a mean character assassination verbally so watch it.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:39 CST
Kids
You know what's hilarious?
When you're bent over the sink, wretching like there's no tomorrow and your kid comes up to you and says "I'm going to play a video game."
Even the dogs were concerned; whimpering for England they were. But the kids? Not even a bat of the eyelids. I just love how much they appreciate me. And I'll return it in spades when they want cash in the future.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 09:48 CST
10th January 2005
Revenge is best served in black stockings
After the Missus has done lusting after Jude Law's ass, I'd just like to point out how gorgeous Claudia Harrison is.
Mneggghhh!
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 14:43 CST
Latest love
Pam has introduced me to my latest love. Patty Griffin. Like Stevie Nicks but without the whoring and baggage. Her voice is sublime. It's like melting butter; utterly gorgeous.
Thanks Pam.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:46 CST
8th January 2005
In which she tries to get fired
If you don't normally read my wife, I recommend that you do today. Her new CEDOO is a hoot.
I'd love to elaborate on why Natzoid turned down the CEO job but the powers that be prevent me.
I love the way that Natzoid operates. If something is morally wrong, she'll walk away from it in a heartbeat. Me? I'm too stupidly loyal to employers. Even when I've broken down in tears at how frustrating a job is, I've stuck with it. Because my skills are specific I suppose. Natzoid can walk into any job and pick it up in seconds. And as I say, the moment there is a hint of something stupid going on, she walks.
Go read it. Is that ballsy or what?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:14 CST
WTF?
Manchester Utd 0 - 0 Exeter City
Can this be explained in linear terms to me because I cannot figure it out?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 14:45 CST
7th January 2005
Tsunami aftermath
You know what is sickening? As the great Douglas Adams said, "people are unhappy about little green pieces of paper which is strange seeing the little green papers were not unhappy." Or some such.
The G7 has decided to suspend debt relief for those countries affected by the Tsunami. Bully for you kids.
They're talking about suspending the debt. Nice one West. Why not just cancel the debt? What would it hurt? Oh, I know. Government figures and private corporations.
Caveat emptor.
You buy the business, you take the risk. And when the walls of your executive offices in Docklands or Manhattan come tumbling down, remember the good years. Everyone has good and bad years. Yours just might be worse than usual. Do I shed a tear? No. Did you shed a tear when my walls came tumbling down? No. OK - we understand each other now?
Now just shut up wailing and write-off their debt you half-hearted lumps of nothing. Just think, Bank of England, of your tax write-offs.
Twats.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 12:43 CST
Help me
I believe my eyebrows are falling out. Every time I touch them, like three fall out. I'm going to end up looking like either Mick Karn or have to draw my eyebrows in a very subtle tone. Maybe day-glow brunette? I don't get out much so that would be fine. N, pick me some eye-brow pencils up on your way home.
Jesus H. I'll end up looking like a straight Boy George.
What else?
Oh yes, we watched Shallow Hal last night on On Demand TV. As the button was pressed to order it, I went to feed the dogs, being sure that it would not only be unfunny but complete pants with it. Wrong! Whenever I see US comedy trailers, I kind of withdraw and switch off; there are few that are genuinely funny. This was pretty funny though. I forget who the dork was who played the lead male character, but whoever he is, he did a good job.
Sad thing is, I'll have completely forgotten it in two weeks. That's the way I am with films. "Ah yes, Sylvester Stallone - wasn't he the guy out Beverly Hills Cop?"
Me: "I heard The General's Daughter was good."
N: "We watched it last Saturday you dumb-f**k."
And you wonder why I hate Trivial Pursuits?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 11:27 CST
6th January 2005
Horrid horror horrifies Yatesy
I was just thinking that I won't have access to all the premium Sky channels for the footie. Easily worked around I suppose. But another MASSIVE whopper smashed around the head that was twice as big as any fancy baseball bat...
I will have NO INTERNET. None. There'll be a phone line there but no laptop or PC. And I will have NO CELL PHONE.
Shoot me now Billy.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 16:30 CST
5th January 2005
Hmmm
Southampton vs Fulham.
Entertainment or torture?
Discuss.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 09:42 CST
4th January 2005
The mainstream media (sadly even the BBC) is stuck in 1969
Remember when the internet did not exist? So does the BBC and other media agencies. Yes, that's right. Last year.
The BBC seems to think that their Queen of the Sky story is a first. Check your terminology darlings. I think you'll find that it came from someone bloggers have know and loved for years. Dooce.
I think Dooce might just have introduced the term dooced. Or maybe the anomalous D makes the lawyers all confused. Which we all know sends lawyers into a tail spin. "Oh, my God. A D where there is not meant to be one. What shall we do? That will never hold up in court." Yup, you know why? As my old mentor and MD used to say, "stick twelve people in a room and they'll convince each other that black is white." Such is the pack mentality. Packers (and I don't mean the football team) would never blog. Too scared of their own shadows.
I really get sick of the media and their paranoia/fascination with bloggers. Get over it suits. We do what we do. Would you be so fascinated if we went to the bathroom for a dump every day? No. Idiots.
While I appreciate QotS's dilemma, she ain't the first and won't be the last. Thankfully, she seems to have a sense of humor about it. I very often wonder whether my blog was the cause of my redundancy or whether it's because I'm a Brit and totally not understood in the self-important corporate nonsense. My counterparts weren't let go. What was the rationale? I wish I had been more attentive when it happened. Racial firings are abominable. I am a team player contrary to what people believed; I just don't play on teams that are shite.
Ah. Bitterness first thing in the morning is so metaphorically sweet. Sweet in the morning is literally awful.
Media...WISE UP. I think we have something here called the first amendment. And as far as I understand the law, that trumps some stupid employment contract. Sometimes, I thank God for good lawyers who blog. It's so "back atcha system" it makes you want to grab your kids and hug 'em, knowing that someone on this planet has brains even though the press they will be informed by doesn't.
Yeah, I'm cranky this morning. Bite me.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 09:49 CST
I think I'm in love
Remember how I used to bitch about Rupert Murdoch? I take it all back. Well, except for the fact this his news channels suck donkey.
We have Fox Sports World. And typically, I lose two-three hours a day watching footie. While my prediction of yesterday that West Brom vs Newcastle would be somewhat akin to watching someone knit a rice-pudding was absolutely correct, today the mighty Red Devils take on Spurs. I can feel the tension already. Thankyou Rupie (Natzoid managed to give a nickname that was daft so I just follow suit.)
Oh that there weren't pesky things like the real world and mortgages to worry about. Every day could be beer and footie.
The things that sucks donkey more than Rupie's news channels is that upon going back to the UK, I'll be staying with my grandmother while having all sorts of evil doctors poking things and extracting others. ergo NO SKY SPORTS. Why is the world so cruel?
That said, the good news is that I might have some contract work over there. Maybe I'll indulge myself in a treat and go watch Wigan. Little chance of getting a ticket for Man Utd so the mighty Latics will have to do.
It's a bit sad when the second thing you think about in the morning (after tea) is football. I think I need treatment for that.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 08:47 CST
3rd January 2005
Yeah I know
How can you tell that normality (if there is such a thing in this house) has dawned again?
And you'll note NORMALITY. NORMALCY is illiterate. Pick up a stats text book and check whether distributions are checked for normalcy. Let me tell you. They are not. If there is one thing I want to accomplish in my life, it's to rid the world of that word and winningest. All the US use of the word normalcy does is prove to me that your average American never got any further in statistics than means, modes and standard deviations.
Anyway, I digress.
The reason things are back to normality is that da missus is back at work and th'eldest is back at school. As per usual, the younger Yates tribe are monopolising the TV with games and trite children's shows. Did I just say shows? They are programmes. Good Lord, this is like drinking my own bathwater, but in public. I tend to try to keep that kind of thing behind closed doors.
Anyway, it's back to the grind for the rest, and sitting on my rapidly growing arse for me. Hence the uptick in blogging. If I can't be planting seeds, I will blog for my own little piece of Cathartic wonderment. You can move on if you like. I'm a Northerner; I say what I like and I like what I say. Except when I say shows. That makes me want to commit mass murder.
I'd probably just prattle on all day but for the fact that at the sacred hour of two central, we have the beautiful game on, not that either of the teams playing are that beautiful mind. Can I imagine a less thrilling encounter than West Brom and Newcastle? Probably not, but it's footie and it just has to be absorbed. It weaves its way into you like weavers presumably weave weaved things; not my strong point that. Isn't it something to do with a waft and a werp or some such? Whatever, it sounds painful and vaguely Star Trek-esque.
OK, I really will shut up for the day now. There's only just over an hour until I reclaim my TV and kick the kids downstairs. And before that I have a tub full of water to drink.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:37 CST
Swing Yates
From whining feminist to complete fascist in one easy step.
I really don't know how I do it, but I do.
This sick bastard who falsified emails to worried family members, informing them that their loved ones were dead should be jailed for a minimum of ten years. To be so wreckless at such a time is beyond my comprehension.
And the stupid arses at AOL should be fined too. If you can't tie down your mail servers to not allow spoofing, you should not be allowed to have them. Have they ever heard of SMTP authentication or do they just not care to validate their sendmail? I have long loathed AOL and its previous incarnations, but this is a new low, even for them.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:48 CST
More on the homecoming thing
The more I think about it, the worse I think the US treats females. They are either paraded out in pom-poms prior to "manly" men playing a game of what I laughingly call football or plain objectified for the cube-sucking contingent.
Oh, and don't try to convince me that American football is a tough game. It's not. It's for bloody over-paid Nancy Drews. And yeah, I would say that to "The Unit's" face. You know what? You're so macho? Try rugby union WITHOUT pads wusses.
I do honestly think on the whole that your average American dream of cheerleaders, homecoming, beauty pageants and the associated hoopla is quite sick. It's no better than willing participation in a Taleban regime really. Except women can vote and are encouraged to be objects of lust for the good old football team.
Ew, I'm making myself quite sick thinking about this so I'm going to stop. Thank God I was not born an American female and had to go through the equivalent of Grease daily at highschool.
Better a kick to the balls and a boot to the head than pandering to the future smirking classes, their "football" injuries and their therapy bills.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:59 CST
Good Lord
When the hell did I get so verbose? My conversational skills stretch to about three word utterances before my brain tapers off into Homer Simpson land. Mmmm, donuts.
So why is the written word so different.
The answer? Donuts.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:15 CST
Atoms have ceased to move in Minnesota
Read all about it.
The missus alleges that I woke her in the middle of the night last night. I maintain that a vicious arse incident with the youngest woke her. He was not a happy camper.
Anyway foolishly, after having played a couple of rounds of golf on the PS2, while Natzoid chatted with Ms Luminous and flirted outrageously with her while gushing about her lovely voice (and it is lovely,) I volunteered to get up and take Sam to school.
BIG MISTAKE. Natzoid remembered.
While atoms were literally falling out of the sky - even they had given up the ghost - stupid Kenny is driving around Coon Rapids with kids in tow. I still haven't understood the bizarre US requirement to give way to huge yellow things so I kind of regard it as a friendly recommendation, just as I do Sam when she tells me that I drive too slowly. Call me crazy, but I actually seem to care about other people's lives and I also drive with the correct attitude - everyone else is stupid so you need to look after number one.
Anyway, as Natzoid was sloshing around in lovely piping-hot water in the shower, I was watching fission occur. I now have a better understanding of quantum mechanics; it boils down to the following.
A body that is vibrating due to cold only does so until the car warms up, and it then hands it over, all toasty, to its spouse to drive to work. It then retires to its PC, still shivering to articulate some mind-bending physical theories. And drink tea. The tea is important here. Coffee is not an adequate substitute.
I think I started off to give you the impression that it's cold here. Well, imagine the coldest that you have ever been and shave, say, 273 degrees Kelvin off it. That's how it was for me this hellish morning. I didn't even want to be awake, let alone have to snap nostril hairs to be able to breathe.
On an entirely disjointed point, I can't make up my mind whether I like the chick in the golf game. Natzoid explained "homecoming" to me last night and I kind of threw up a bit. What a sickeningly sycophantic concept. If we did that in the UK, Bertha (who is incidentally, the coolest caddie in the world) would come round, slap the backs of our heads and deny us sausages. That's how heinous a concept I find "homecoming." But you may want to side with Bertha. Not just for the good of your health, but because she is cool.
But man. What is up with the dude in that game? I want to punch him over and over. Punk-ass skateboarding barbarian. I might team him up with Bertha and see if she kicks the ever-loving shit out of him.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 09:00 CST
2nd January 2005
The world is never enough...
...except when it's kind of boring.
Natzoid explained to me tonight what the dot, dot, dot thing was called and I've forgotten already. Bite me. I'm a bloke. We don't remember grammatical stuff unless we're gay and in marketing.
Thank God I was only in marketing. Can you imagine what would have happened otherwise?
One of the beauties of having a spouse that you really, really connect with is those mad days when you connect on yet another level that you've never been to before. We did that today. We were talking about literary style. As anyone who reads N's blog will know, she's a wizard with the words. A diva extraordinaire. We were discussing the relative differences between male and females writers and she opened my eyes.
Men write in terse statements and short sentences. It's the way we're programmed to communicate. Make it modular and understandable. That way, your wife won't cleave you over the head when you mistake the football channel for the porn channel. I dunno. Sometimes that just happens. Never understood it myself, but there you go.
Women write in great swathing orgies of I don't know what. But they are so much more compelling to read than men. What is it in the male brain that is so deficient? I love my Bronte, Austin, Elliot. Their style makes Shakespeare look like a dork. Maybe mens' brains are just so useless that we should give up. We should just stick to eating and drinking; we're good at that.
I'm sorry to have to do this to you dear but look at this. Artichoke Heart is one of the best authors I can think of after my missus, who, by the way, should start writing a God-damn book. AH has that beautiful mastery of a language we all struggle with. Her prose slips and slides all over the place. And you're glued to it. Well I am anyway. If you're not, you might want to go resit your O-level English. She's good. And I wish when we had gone West last year that we could have met her. After the good lady, she is probably one of the most fascinating people I know of. Come on, I've met the lovely MJ and Mopsa.
Anyway, back to the bloke thing.
My mate Paul is a scientist above all else. Scientists don't do literature. But he does. He's not a creator but an appreciator, just like me I suppose. He likes his Spacey as much as I do. We call her Spacey 'cos we love her. Cuter than a button. Never understood that phrase but it seems appropriate, just in case my wife kills me for saying it.
The missus is asleep now. I'm not surprised. I'm a terminal bore.
But we had the greatest conversation today. It made me love her even more than I did. Her understanding of language and inflection is second to none. That's why you should all read her blog.
In the meantime, I might hit the hay myself. No point competing with people with so much talent. I can't be bothered doing another set of links, but MJ, Artichokey, Mops and my good lady will certainly provide for you. Read 'em. The best of the best.
Yeah, and I've forgotten what the hell I was going to say about men and literature. Maybe we're just crap at it. Does that do it for you? It does for me.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 23:18 CST
Oh God - it's that time of year
The wine flows, the Manchester bands come out on the PC, and I love the place that I hated for so long.
For so long I pledged I would never leave Manchester, and then I did the unforgiveable and moved to Yorkshire. And after eighteen months of hell with a psycho, I left for the US.
Ah, good times indeed. Not.
Whatever, as I have just reminded the missus, our accents are the most trustworthy in the world. She's just jealous that I have a cool accent and she has one of those non-descript, non-traceable generic American accents. Wherever I go in the world, people know exactly where I'm from. And I wear that with pride.
But I also wear poncy shoes with pride, so maybe it doesn't matter that much.
Maybe I just miss Manc a lot. It was good to me and I deserted it. A skyline that you can see from the East Lancs that is rivalled only by flying into Shy-town. With people who are the best on the damned planet. I don't particularly want to leave my missus to pick up my pieces for a couple of months, but Manc, I look forward to seeing you again.
From my early teenage years and trips to the Arndale to the last time I was there with Natzoid where she was gob-smacked at the devastation the IRA caused, I will always love that city. It's what made me. Minneapolis might make my son, but he'll not never love it as much as I love Manc.
Oh my God. How many glasses of wine have I had? Certainly not enough to wax so lyrical about my home town. I'll be back soon guys. Have a cold one behind the bar for me. And then pray I get back to my family soon.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 18:48 CST
Have I ranted lately?
Hell if I can remember. The Xmas season seems to addle my senses somehow. Wonder how that works?
Anyway, what I am going to rant about is a very similar subject to that I briefly mentioned the other day. Monty Python are NOT funny. Just like Rowan Atkinson stopped being funny in 1986. It's banal, not cerebral in the slightest (not that it needs to be to be funny - Vic Reeves is a shining example of how to take something banal and make it hilarious.)
This particular rant is about music. Sorry Americans but Led Zeppelin were average. I nearly wrote that Pink Floyd were average too but then I remembered the mad, mad timing in Money and how you can not imagine how that came into being. I'm an average musician at best but the complexity of that song still leaves me breathless.
But hey. Led Zeppelin were PANTS.
Now get me started on the Stone Roses and I will not stop ranting about the world's finest band. They had everything. And threw it away. They could have been bigger than beatles Noel.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 16:30 CST
1st January 2005
The beautiful game
I don't usually like to gush but I'm going to.
Normally, I'm agitated when I'm watching footie. Today was different. Utd were absolutely sublime.
Ronaldo was blistering. Yes, I know he has a face that you would quite happily punch until it was non-existant but you have to agree that the kid is a serious talent. When Giggsy hangs up his boots, Ronaldo will be there to take them down. He just needs to get out of that bloody annoying habit that is usually typified by South American players, that of falling over whenever the slightest contact is made. He is a waif but Good Lord, do you really need to go down so easily? That said, Parlor should have got a red for his challenge.
Alan Smith. What can you say? He's a frickin' God. No-one has held up the ball that well since Saint Eric. I never saw it in him at Leeds, but he has come into his own since his trans-Pennine migration.
There are a couple of players that I cannot take to though. I object to all things Argentine on principle. Cheating feckers the lot of them. Heinze is no exception. Not a single moral in their beings. Is there a word in Spanish for morals? Maybe that's why they have none. It is no coincidence that Spanish and Portuguese speaking players are all prima-donnas. Or Maradonnas. Same difference eh?
Another one I really do not like is Djemba-Djemba. What the hell is his function? Midfield non-entity. If you're going to be a midfielder, have some presence. Look at Keane. Even at Forest, he was a giant. And if you think Djemba-Djemba is a striker, you're smoking crack.
One thing that did frustrate me though was the commentary. It should be a law that Alan Green commentates on every match on the basis that he knows what he's talking about. The two chumps who commentated today wouldn't recognise a round inflated thing, better yet know that you are meant to kick the fecker. My grandma knows more about football than these two whining mules.
And the beauty? Another two games today. Oh rapture. Can it get any better? The beast? El Nico knocked over some wine last night and broke the remote control so I actually have to stand up and press a button two hundred times to switch from Noggin to the footie. Physics, I curse thee. And Argen-fecking-tina.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:57 CST
