30th September 2004
For what ails you...
Pork and pastry. Is there a better combination?
Just look at that lardy goodness.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:44 CDT
Drudgery
I've decided I need a cause. The daily routine is starting to get to me a little. When I worked, I at least had the variable of at what time of day someone was going to incense me. You knew it was going to happen, just not when. And on particularly exciting days, it could occur multiple times.
Nowadays, I know the dogs will incense me at some point. Trouble is, thrashing them to within an inch of their orange lives is not exactly intellectually rewarding. At work, you get to be all clever and out-wit people although in retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't be quite so self-satisfied about that; it was kind of like fishing with hand-grenades.
The kids inevitably will do something to increase my blood pressure. In fact, there are some days when Natzoid gets home that I kind of do a "catch this" and check out mentally for the rest of the evening.
But back to the point. I need a cause. Or maybe the word is a project. I had considered baking a cake today but in a freak kid/dog incident, I find my rolling pin has been chewed by the dogs and the cake I had wanted to make requires a base short-crust pastry so that's off the cards. I could have used a wine bottle but in an unprecedented event, yatescentral is bereft of wine bottles (note to self: you're slacking.) I could make scones, but they're boring and it would mean having to go out later for Lurpak, strawberry jam and cream which, in turn, means even more work so that's off the cards.
The need for a project is derived from another need too. I have developed an addiction to a particular card game that comes with Linux. The AisleRiot solitaire suite has all sorts of games of patience. I have discovered Diamond Mine. Oh my God. Remember when you first got Freecell and you lost days of your life? Well let's call that pot. Diamond Mine is like crack. One game and you're hooked. Natzoid's SIMs addiction seems like a leisurely pursuit compared to the frenetic clicking that emanates from the corner where teapot and I live.
I mean, come on, even the news isn't worth mocking at the moment. Again, fishing with hand-grenades. Flip-flop. Oh, my sides are splitting, I've bust a rib and numerous other metaphors that represent the complete hilarity of the acerbicity of the campaign managers. It's all just 21st century Benny Hill.
I had wondered about starting to write a book, inspired by Steve, but I realised that the only things I know about are completely boring and were I to do do it, I would spend even more time at the keyboard asleep than I do now. Fiction? Maybe. I have some ideas but whenever I start to mentally map it out, it seems to implode and end up as a small pile of rather odorous dust.
Damn. Totally uninspired. I suppose it's time to break out the philosophy books and become even more bizarre than I already am. Expect a theory on something mind-boggling but so obscure you could roll a pasty with it. Soon.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 10:31 CDT
29th September 2004
Don't blink
As per yesterday's biblical promise, the evidence that I actually did something yesterday that did not involve a keyboard, a mouse, a Linux box or a hamster:
Can it be?
You've got be kidding me.
Who did he pay?
I also reluctantly shaved for the first time in two weeks and vacuumed. I am productivity personified. Of course I rewarded myself with a nice cold beverage and an episode of CSI.
Today, it is the turn of the main bathroom to be assaulted. Don't expect pictures of that though.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 15:16 CDT
28th September 2004
The faeble of the cleaning lady
'Twas a day akin to many another. The beasts were desecrating infidels and shoes alike, and His children played with pebbles and sticks. His eyes didst set upon the kitchens of Horror and His bottom lip didst quivereth as the foul remains of the Devil's handiwork invaded His own.
"Lo," sayeth He, "Mine evil foe hast issued prognistications of a dire nature uponst mine domicile. I shall smite these dastardly deeds with mine Father's tools of choice, a ragged shroud and a measure of 409."
Foresooth, did He then not step into the den of the lion with scourer in hand and cerabryte twixt legs? The battle was brutal as He didst succumb to moments of doubt at the enormity of the Evil one's temptation to foresake His mission, but stood firm decrying the lack of Oxymagic and vowing with true heart to rid the place of cooking of its repugnant contents.
Several hours didst pass and the fire didst roar and the babes didst cry to watch His tormented soul suffer the Test of El Cuisinera. But lo, it came to pass that Good once again didst prevail and He was pleased and uttered forth:
"I might post some pictures later afore the buggers wreck the joint again."
Here endeth the lesson.
Questions will be given later. Amen.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:33 CDT
Hausfrau has bad hair day
I rose this morning, fleet of foot and bouncing off the walls with energy. Not. The only true part of that statement is that I rose. I propelled myself towards the kitchen by a series of well-timed coughs and splutters as any good smoker does when they first awake.
The first item of concern was the lack of children. After some brief investigation, I discovered both of the little dears were still sound asleep. So far, so good.
As I plodded towards that most magnificent of inventions, the electric kettle, I espied to my left a brown deposit on the carpet. Fearing the worst, I moved closer and squinted at what I soon realised to be a torn up tea bag. First beating of culpable dog ensued, the guilty party being identifiable by their sheepish look and retracted ears.
Having filled the kettle, I plugged it in. As I started to withdraw to the drawing room chez nous, something in my right peripheral vision seemed like some of form of white object on the carpet. Again, on closer inspection, I determined the nature of said abberation; a chewed up and shredded diaper. Not just a diaper. A soiled diaper. Having established that the same canine felon was the culprit, a second beating ensued.
Bitching and moaning, I deployed the almight Shop Vac to task on the carpet, finished my tea and headed down to control center at yatescentral. A trail of Reese's peanut butter cup wrappers was my guide, freshly liberated of their paper cups. The orange one, who was up until that point, following me despite having been cermonially punished, suddenly stopped in her tracks and started slinking back toward the drawing room in the West Wing. A few short strides later, having carefully avoided spilling tea, a tertiary thumping was administered.
Having finally sat down and downed a pint of tea in the time it took me to read the few real emails I had, I returned to the shrine of the kettle and began to make the second cup of nectar of the morning. But quelle horreur! Quest-que c'est? A horrible paralylisis gripped my no yet fully caffeinated mind. The cause being the realisation that there is barely enough tea for the next couple of days. My dealer in the UK has a lead time of a couple of weeks twixt shipping and arrival. Quelle domage, zut alors et merde. Life will be unbearable. Whining here will be constant and I may take to random acts of unprovoked violence until the 'package' arrives. I will be contacting the man shortly.
Anyway, the children arose, poured cereal and milk over the dining table, mixed it into some ketchup they had from somewhere and proceded to start their morning screaming match. Off went CNN and on went Noggin.
Triple action arsenic tablets, table ten please. And I'll have a double digitalis as a side. As a beverage I would like the Cyanide Surprise. Merci madmoiselle.
... --- ... SEND. STOP. PG. STOP. TIPS. STOP. EMERGENCY. STOP.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 13:03 CDT
27th September 2004
Brilliant idea
Having been a tad flippant about hurricanes in my previous post, I feel I have to make amends. I don't take these things lightly in the same way that I don't take tornados lightly. I actually caught the start of a hurricane while working in Plantation a few years ago, so I know the score.
Anyway, I think that we need someone to blame for nature's wrath and with that in mind, I have decided that we need a new naming scheme. I propose that we name hurricanes after prominent politicians so we air our grievances to them after the fact. Next year, the following names will be used:
Arnie
Biden
Condie
Donald
Edwards
Frist
Gephardt
Howard
Inhofe
Johns
Kerry
Lieberman
McCain
Norm
Powell
Ralph
Santorum
Thomas
Voinovich
Warner
I think the idea has some legs non?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:01 CDT
25th September 2004
(Stir)-Crazy
I must confess to being a little stir-crazy at the moment. In the vast scheme of things, I'm sure the kids are not as badly behaved as I think. But bloody hell. Twixt the screaming, perpetual demands for food and uncanny ability to pull every toy out, not to mention coat-hangers, tearing of paper etc., all I can do is scream internally. The tops of any unit above reach are covered in papers and dangerous items so the buggers cannot access them. But it's no use. They get at everything.
The washing up alone is a full time job. Take now for instance. The dishwasher last ran at about 7:00pm last night. There is nary a clean bowl, glass or spoon to be found in there now. The sinks are full, the counters are covered and garbage is full again. Un-frickin-believable.
Now throw in three dogs, two of whom would eat your grandmother for just a lick of that cookie. If there is a crumb on the floor, they will find it and eat it. Why? What do you get from a crumb? Bloody scavengers. And then there's the moulting. I don't believe it's seasonal. Oh, and the incessant chewing. You're fecking three years old dogs. Enough with the chewing of anything that is softer than diamond.
What I'm trying to say is that the house is a shit-tip. I have no idea how long it would take an army of savage house-keepers to get through this house, but I bet the original contract would be massively extended.
Sorry to say this Florida, but your wussy hurricanes have nothing on this lot.
In other news, we threw the kids in the basement last night to play and watched a few films. First up was White Oleander, which is a bit of a chick-flic, but nominally entertaining. Next was Lost in Translation which I thought was hilarious. All the little quoibles and eccentricities of Asia were perfectly reproduced, even down to the token Western lounge singer in the bars there. To me the plot was incidental. Being awake at strange times of day, not knowing what anything said, miscommunication, that feeling of isolation you have are all the hallmarks of a trip to Asia on your ownsome. Natzoid thought I had missed the point completely. I probably did.
Finally, we watched a documentary of British rock including Oasis, Blur, Pulp, Stone Roses etc. It was mildly entertaining but a bit lacking in music. The one thing that really annoyed me was the assertion that Oasis had started the anti-Thatcher movement. Wrong. The Smiths started that movement. And you could argue that Paul Weller did it even earlier.
Lying midst toys, strewn paper, dog hair and candy wrappers watching films without having to have the volume on full to counter the kids: priceless.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 14:40 CDT
24th September 2004
Things that are going down in groove town
First of all apologies to all the teeming masses that hang on very every word (sic.) You see there was a points failure on the way in. The Circle line if you must know. And given that I have managed to sleep 90 minutes out of the last two nights, I've not exactly been inspired. That 90 minutes was the most boring bit of last night, when all that is on the TV is that boring CNN show prior to Good Morning America or whatever it is called. The night before I had to suffer it. The lesson? Judicious sleeping. Anyway, having rambled on about bollocks-all, a few highlights of my endless viewing yesterday...
Correct me if I'm wrong but did I hear Tucker Carlson say Bollocksed last night on Crossfire? I have wracked my brains for an alternative and can't find one. Answers on a postcard please.
Sir Elton John screaming at reporters in Taiwan was hilarious. I can sympathize. When I was there, they jumped all over me too. What with the being the celebrity that I am in those parts.
If Dick Cheney thinks it is rude to criticise the Iraq policy while the PM is here, what do you call the actions of the rabid audience that booed afterwards? Children, children. If you can't play nice, it's off to bed with no dinner. And people say Theresa Heinz Kerry is a liability...this campaign is a farce of the first order. I reckon I could stand up on a stage and confidently pronounce "I have a plan for insert random topic here" and then fail to expound any further. "Thank you Iowa; it is so nice to be in BFE again." (Aside: I bet that gets some hits from google - "Iowa && BFE.")
So to my notorious predictions for the near future...
Some famous old composer fart will die. Kerry will blame Bush, but will have a plan on how to deal with it. Bush will say that Kerry's plan is rubbishment and he already has one to deal with tragic loss of life in Tinseltown and already has a replacement. Apparently Norm Coleman once played the recorder at elementary school so he looks like a good bet. Anyway Minnesota is going to get cold soon so poor old Norm's piles will be playing up. "First class ticket to LA please for Mr Coleman. What do you mean he's on a no-fly list?" Damned dirty musicians and their suicide bombing ways.
Man, I don't know what I'm on today but I should take more of it.
Anyway, next prediction. Sinead O'Conner will take out a full page ad complaining how nobody likes her 'cos she's a Feinian git. Oh wait, that has already happened. Damn me for not blogging yesterday.
Prince William will be picked for Sandringham (for whatever it is that they play there) but will not take part as he will be en-route to marry Justin Timberlake in California. The inbred German toff will spark a controversy so great that the US government will crumble. The UK will pretty much relegate it to a single edition of the Sun so no-one will ever know. Justin will later spurn him for John Edwards. Tragic.
Finally, I will either be blogging nonsense all day or will be sat on my bum watching CNN and cursing the temperature outside.
Oh, and for the third week in a row, good luck Florida.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 10:37 CDT
22nd September 2004
Happy Bidet
Today is my brother's 34th birthday. He is a star of the first order and the person you would most want behind you in times of trouble, so you should leave him a Happy Bidet message now. Rarely has there been a man with such integrity and wit.
Do it now or I'll bust your fingers.
Cheers Kidda; hope you have a great day. Have a cocktail on me. I promise I will pay you back eventually.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:27 CDT
Ugg
Words cannot describe how oogy I feel at the moment. The brain is off in la-la land and the body refuses to obey mental signals. To give you some idea of how bad it is, I have just sat and watched Hey Franklin with Nic asleep on my chest. That is so not me.
I know, I know. I promised I would stop postng about my health, but today is so notable it needs to be recorded for posterity. Or posteria. Who knows?
To be frank (as opposed to Tom who runs the local liquor store) I am sick of being sick.
Many years ago (well about 13 to be exact), I had a problem with my throat. I ended up going for a laryngoscopy; that was the only night I have ever spent in hospital, thanks to an allergy to Novocaine. The marvels of the NHS didn't find anything (they suspected singers' nodules) and following the all-clear on the nodules, they decided it was cost-ineffective to pursue whatever it was that was wrong. To this day, I have suffered from some horrible gagging due to some throat/oesophagus action. Not pleasant at all. Thank the Lord for Vick's spray action; it stopped me from vomming on many an occasion.
Anyway, I think the point is that it's back with a vengeance. My whole digestive tract feels like it's on fire. I'm sure a good curry would alleviate the symptoms but sadly the US is not the place to get such goodies. If there is a God, they will move the curry house from Keighley to Minneapolis. And then they will make Lychees indigenous to my back yard. "Cos that would be sweet.
Anyway, as I lay writhing away this morning, I got to thinking about the whole state of the world thing and was utterly disgusted that about 20% of the US population lives without medical insurance. Can you believe that? The richest country in the world and people cannot go to their local doctor or hospital without cash to pay for their treatment. Where is the justice in that? As much as I cannot abide the toll that the NHS puts on the British tax-payer, at least it acts a safety net. In the US, there is no such thing. Not even for kids.
Ridiculous.
Were I in England at the moment, I would check myself into a hospital. But I'm not, and I'm not allowed to be a drain on the oh-so-magnificent US economy or my residency would be revoked, despite the fact that my children are American. Bizarre with a capital B or what?
While we spend billions to combat a minority who ritually behead people, a vast percentage of the country cannot go see a doctor for fear of not being able to eat. It's lunacy peeps. Utter lunacy. Surely it would be cheaper to nuke their asses rather than fight them in hand-to-hand or gun-to-gun combat.
Don't get me wrong. I was all for sorting out Iraq, but the lack of care for everyday people is astonishing. I know a guy who served the US in Vietnam who is now nearly blind and has no access to medical help. He owns the mother of my dogs and is one of the nicest people you will ever meet, yet time and time again he is denied the help he needs.
I've no idea where I am going with this other than to point out that the world is a bit fecked up.
Now, back to diapers and eternal burning for me. I think I may be back soon - blogging as a painkiller might be my fortune.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:16 CDT
20th September 2004
S is for shocking
While watching the terminally dull Bushgate allegations that maintain George W president was AWOL last night, Natzoid came out with the most incredible thing I have ever heard. As the photo of GWP in his twenties appeared on screen, she said "Man, he was good looking when he was younger."
Yup. Double-take.
What the hell?
That got me thinking. When your sleep patterns are screwed up, you tend to do weird things to occupy your brain. For example, I sat the other night writing down States to see if I could name them all alphabetically. Turns out that Mississipi is a bitch. Whatever. It's good practice for Scattegories.
As some of you know, I'm on some mind-bending meds at the moment to stem the urge to roll a seven. Unfortunately, these same meds mess with your head something chronic. At times this is a bad thing, but other times it's a good thing and there's a degree of clarity that sometimes we miss. Thinking George W President was a good looking bloke is understandable in the vast context of human sexuality. However the terminal blue shirt he wears is an indication of how bizarre the whole thing is.
Humans are strange. Men, particularly so. Men tend to lust when in actual fact they are just appreciating beauty. There's a difference between being sexy and being pretty but most mens' brains don't differentiate. Case in point; I think that Kyra Philips is pretty but I don't find her attractive or sexy in the slightest. There's a girl in the local grocery store who is pretty but not sexy at all. Sexy is not pretty. And pretty is not necessarily sexy.
Take Diana Rigg for example. She is probably one of the prettiest people I have ever seen (back in the 60s of course) but she isn't in the slightest bit sexy. Then throw Madonna into the mix. Madonna isn't pretty at all but she has something about her that is so uber-sexy that you avoid looking, 'cos you're married and all that.
The trick is to find someone who is both pretty and sexy. Natzoid fits that profile to perfection. Which is why I kind of puke a little when she says that George W President was once good-looking. My medicated response to that is that GWP might once have had some common sense. Yes peeps, an oxymoron. It isn't common and it certainly isn't sense. There are the little chimp jokes that you can summon, but in reality, I have to admit that he maybe once was a catch. But is he pretty or sexy? Answers in a comment please.
The existential question here is whether Laura Bush is good looking. I'm not going to comment but just wait for male readers to count their votes.
I have a million other things that I want to blog today but my head is swarming with weird thoughts that would make an insane person look sane. And probably pretty.
Blegh. I wish Seroquel was my bitch rather than the other way round.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 14:42 CDT
18th September 2004
The sins of the fathers'
Another Saturday rolls around. Where the hell did that week go? This one is slightly unusual in that Natzoid had to bugger off to help raise money or feed black vegetarian lesbian whales or some such. I dunno. My feeble brain cannot keep track of these things. I manage what I can see.
This morning, what I can see is that Samantha is turning into me. As she fumbled her way out of bed this morning, she was cursing the dogs in a manner that would do me proud. She bitched and moaned as she let them out and then headed straight off to the bathroom in a mental fog that surely would look right on my newly woken self.
Having taken care of the necessary, she did what any good Kenny does instinctively. She went straight for the kettle to put on tea.
I don't remember when I became addicted to tea. I think I must have been 5 or 6, but the need for a brew you can stand a spoon up in has been first and foremost on my mind every morning for probably 90% of my life. You can deny me food, cigarettes, coffee or oxygen but do not deprive me of my tea. With two sugars thank you.
It's funny to me to watch Sam head for the kettle. It's a mini-me in action at that time of the morning. The only thing she does differently, thankfully, is she avoids the cigarettes. She's as grumpy as I am and as easily subdued by a little prism containing nature's best drug, some water and a couple of teaspoons of sugar with a drop of cow-juice.
Some days, you feel like you're doing a good job.
And then you turn to look at the other two and feel like you had no right to procreate in the first place as the carpet sits soaking, anything on the table sticks and the dogs lick their chops, happily satiated by something they should not have had.
Sometimes, it sucks to be me. On the other hand, there is always that second cup.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 09:37 CDT
17th September 2004
Boycott of Interbrew
The other day I wrote why Interbrew are bastards. I sent off a complaining email and threatened to boycott Interbrew products. I received a response to that email today (it's a form response/objection handler crafted by the hands of some marcomms/PR person.)
Dear Mr Yates
Thank you for your email to Interbrew UK Ltd concerning our plans to transfer production of Boddingtons.
We do understand that our plans to close the Boddingtons Brewery would not be popular and we have considered a number of different options to try and keep the brewery open.
We really hoped it would not come to this, but the fact is that cask ale only accounts for 10% of the Boddingtons Brewery's production capacity and against any normal business measure we cannot continue to operate any brewery at this level.
Despite our intention to close the brewery, we are not walking away from Manchester. We believe in the City of Manchester and we are passionate about beer and its place in the history of Manchester.
It is very much our intention to keep brewing cask Boddingtons in its heartland and we hope that we can retain production in Manchester. Our preferred choice would be for cask Boddingtons to be brewed by Hydes - the family-owned Manchester brewer which is highly acclaimed for brewing quality traditional ales. We are also pledging to continue our involvement with the Manchester community and our support for local pubs.
With regard to non-cask ales produced at Boddingtons, in such a competitive market, it is not sustainable to continue brewing these ales at the Boddingtons Brewery and transport them - with all of the associated transport costs - to our other UK brewery sites for packaging when we have the production capacity available at those plants.
Unfortunately, we cannot ignore these economic realities which are coupled with a long-term decline in ale sales as more people are now drinking lager. Today only 3/10 pints drunk of beer drunk in the UK are ales compared with 7/10 pints 20 years ago.
We do need to ensure the long-term future and success of our business and protect the broader base of our 3,000 employees, and it is the combination of all of these factors that has led us to take this action.
We would like to assure you that the plans to close the brewery will not diminish our commitment to the Boddingtons brand which will continue to be an important brand in our beer range.
Again we would thank you for your contact with Interbrew UK.
Your sincerely
Barbara Robson
Consumer Helpline Advisor
Now, a call to arms. I would politely request that you ask everyone you know to boycott Interbrew products. Their most popular brands are Boddingtons, Stella Artois and Becks. If we could get a grass roots thing going, we might be able to force a change of heart.
Please post a link to this post. You can mess wiith our electronics industry but do not mess with our beer.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:29 CDT
15th September 2004
Watch out world
After a beautifully deep sleep last night for 9 hours (oh the joy), I am ready to go to war with China over Taiwan. Just kidding. I am about to go to war with France. No. That's not it either. Who is it I was going to go to war with? Ah yes. My house.
5 gallon Shop Vac. Check.
Oxymagic. Check.
Sponges. Check.
409 Grease and Grime. Check.
Electrosol. Check.
Cloths. Check.
2 cups of tea. Check.
Endust. Check.
This ain't going to be pretty folks. You might see Kyra Philips reporting on dust-bunny carnage at lunch time. Don't try to stop me.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 09:03 CDT
14th September 2004
I give you some random fact-ifications
Just a couple of things I have learned today in particular order of importance...
I have been receiving a lot of hits from google.es and google.mx etc. from people who I thought were researchiing my surname. I had initially thought that these must be lusty Mexican beauties trying to track me down but then I realised that a) I have never been to Mexico and b) I don't know any Mexican beauties. Bang went that theory. So off I wandered over to the Babelfish or whatever it is nowadays. It transpires that my surname in Spanish means yachts. Isn't that a thing? It is. Trust me. It's a thing alright.
When emailing your relatives in Germany, it helps to know German. My faux Deutsche is so bad, I had to give up and do it in English. You'd think with my lineage I would know more than a couple of phrases. Dast ist nicht richte. Oh und, 'Achtung - Bessinger Hund'. Wie kommen ich am besten zum [bourg, gasthaus, rathaus etc.]. Pathetic eh?
Finally, someone I worked with for many years once said in an off the cuff manner, "sympathy is only moderately useful." I was blown away by the truth in that. I was reminded of those words a few moments ago when Nic bumped his noggin gargantuan cranium on a table. After a while of cuddling, all you are doing is fueling the fire. I remember, as a kid, just starting to get over something that had upset me and then seeing my mum walk into the room and it sending me back to square one. The human psyche is indeed a bizarre phenomenon. Parents, heed that quote...nothing will turn your child into a neurotic squib quicker than over-playing trivial bumps and bruises.
Here endeth the daft things on Kenny's mind. I thank you.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 18:02 CDT
Disaster
Interbrew are bastards. They buy every good beer company on the planet and turn it into bland same old same old. Not only did they buy Boddingtons, but they turned its beer into pasteurised mass-produced Boddingtons. And now this. The closure of the Mecca that is the Strangeways brewery is, to Mancunians, like waving a cow at a Hindu or a pig at a Jew.
I'm not joking when I say this absolutely incensed me. I think I'm off to their website to complain. You should too.
Update: Here is their email address in the UK.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 12:00 CDT
Kids, a reprise in B flat major
To the eldest. You may think it is cool to wear T-shirts with obnoxious messages on them to school, but it isn't. For example the logo "I'm not the problem. You are." is inappropriate. Another small point of order along similar lines; having logos or phrases on your jeans, across your bum is inappropriate. If I catch you trying it again, your computer may suddenly develop tremendous problems. 'Nuff said?
End of good parenting.
Beginning of bad parenting.
Whose facile pigeon-brained mind created Noggin? I hate Oobi, Hey Arnold, Noggin, Franklin and all the other odious nonsense that spews forth. Youngest(s): I do not want to sit and watch it with you as it educates your young fertile minds with banality that makes synchronised swimming look fascinating. Neither do I want to hear about it. I will dain to utter platitudes about how pleased I am that you enjoy it, but they are exactly that; platitudes. It's nauseating beyond belief and stops me from watching CNN and CSI re-runs, hence I spend too much time on Teapot surfing blogs. So there, it's all your fault.
Also, I want to invent a diaper-changing machine. You stick the kid in up to the waist and then a robotic system removes the current diaper, jet sprays the butt with soap and water, followed by a rinse cycle, much like a carwash. A dry cycle follows where air is pumped in at high pressure. Then it's a squirt of butt cream and a poof of talc. Finally the robot system places a clean diaper on said dear and voila, happy campers are us. I'd sell my first born son for one of those but then I wouldn't need one. Dilemmas, dilemmas.
Physchiatrists, quacks and shrinks alike: when they say that kids learn through repetition, I'm sure they do not mean endless loops of The (bastard) Wiggles. N'est-ce pas?
I'm such a good dad. Empathy is my middle name (sic).
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 10:08 CDT
13th September 2004
What I will be doing tomorrow
I fancy livening things up around here. I figure that I have a choice. I can either pay the mortgage for another couple of months or I can buy AK 47s to defend chez-yc when they come to reposess the place. Hmm. Tricky.
Zoe and Nic need dance lessons too. Rather than shell out Natzoid's hard-earned on some poncy flouncer who just happens to make a living proving that some people dance better than others, an AK 47 would be ideal. Get with the rhythm kiddies. Daddy's home and he has a new toy. Now dance monkeys!
Owning an automatic weapon would also help out enormously with the grocery bill. No-one will challenge a man who 'forgot' to pay for groceries if he has an AK 47 or Uzzi at the top of his shopping cart. That would leave funds left over for those little luxuries, like electricity and gas.
As a plan, I'm getting increasingly excited about its level of cunningness. This is the stuff us Brits are made of. When the going gets tough, hop over La Mange and demand what you want with menaces (and automatic weaponry) and then just wait for the spoils.
Brilliant. I love the smell of hot lead flying into soft flesh.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 09:38 CDT
11th September 2004
You gets what you pays for
Talk about a self-fulfilling prophesy? You name a hurricane Ivan and expect it not to be a beast worthy of the monicker Ivan the Terrible. That's like calling your son Wayne. You know he'll end up either a football star or a drug dealer.
If you named them Fifi or Peach, they would be much less aggressive. As is confirmed by hurricane Isobel. I didn't even realise there had been an Isobel so it can't have been that bad.
For God's sake, let's not name the next storm Josef. Once again, good luck Florida.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:54 CDT
10th September 2004
Wasting away
I've just had the shock of my life. I stood on the scales. I know I am hardly a picture of physical fitness at the moment, but the results were jaw-dropping. In the past two months, I have lost 20 lbs. Being a svelt 145 lbs at best, that means I have lost over a stone in weight and now weigh in at a pathetic 125 lbs. For someone who is 5'11", this is not good.
I've never been a carb-lover, instead prefering meat and vegetables. I can take or leave potatoes, pasta is boring and I cannot abide rice unless it's fried and soaked in lemon juice. But I guess I need to start in on the carbs. Bread is a satisfactory compromise. Unfortunately, the sprogs finished that yesterday.
I think I'm going to start the Yates diet and make millions before shuffling off my mortal coil from some form of eating disorder. That seems to be par for the course nowadays. Fergie, call me. We'll talk.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 16:59 CDT
8th September 2004
England vs Poland
It appears that Sven Goran DickinUlricason has finally come to his senses and dropped David James. Further evidence that there might be a God. What I don't understand is why the BBC sports site is all over dropping Beckham. There is an obvious weak link in the side that Sven has identified yet armchair hacks think Beckham is more of an issue. I am, as they say, gob-smacked as to how little the press understand the beautiful game.
The game is on PPV but it's money I could well do without spending really. I may have to make do with the webcast from 5 Live. Honestly, the sacrifices I make to ensure that there's a nice steak on the table each evening and that there's enough crisps/chips to make us clinically obese. I'm a fecking Saint. No kiddies, don't thank me...wait for the medical bills to come in and then thank me.
Sven, you'd better pull this off matey-boy or you're on the first raft back to Sweden sans harem. You have been warned.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:35 CDT
6th September 2004
What the hell?
Where did the summer go? Last time I looked I was planting annuals. Now, it's virtually Fall or Autumn depending on your origins.
It's also nearly twelve months since I last worked. I don't know where the time went and I'm surprised that we have lasted so long without my old income. We have another couple of months before all hell breaks loose financially, but it's not looking good.
As I reckon, I have applied for approximately three jobs a day for nearly nine months, have had two telephone interviews and one face to face interview. Nada. Niet. I think I'm now to the point where I should be re-doing my resume to play down the success factor in marketing and just aim for a technical support job. Just a regular call-center kind of thing. It will bore me stupid but at least it might pay the bills, particularly if it's a shift dealie.
So now, I need to get onto hotjobs and look for keyword "dust monkey"; oh how the mighty fall. Tomorrow, I will set my sights appropriately and re-engineer my resume back to where it was ten years ago. Either that or I'll become vastly egotistical and start some bloody company that I have no right to run. Such is the dilemma at the moment. It's a Death or Glory moment. We're down to the wire and I need to make a decision.
Bugger. My usual instinct has been lost over the last year. Nothing wrecks your self-confidence like a lay-off, a failed MBO and a year sat on your bum dwelling on the hopelessness of it all. In a foreign country too. I never thought I would handle this, and some may say that I'm not, but I'm doing better than I thought I would.
Still, it could be worse. I could have had my house blown into the next dimension by some freaky hurricane.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 20:17 CDT
4th September 2004
Depraved night (surprise)
Tonight's play list includes the following married with red wine:
The Verve
The Macc Lads
Half Man Half Biscuit
Lou Reed
Oasis
The Stone Roses
Simple Minds (before they became crap)
Nick Harper
Madness
A recipe for disaster eh? How long until the Bronski Beat comes out and I boogie like it's like 1975? Update tomorrrow. If I can type.
Oh my God. What happens if the Pogues or Shane McGowan break out? Alcoholic poisoning, that's what.
Must...avoid...Donnegal...Express.
Damn.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 20:18 CDT
England 2 - 2 Austria
Typical. David "Donkey" James strikes again. How many more times can this guy be a prat without being dropped?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:34 CDT
3rd September 2004
Because I'm feeling crotchety...
Where do all these Bushes keep coming from. Prior to the other day, I knew of only Jeb. This week, it appears that they have been rolling them out at a rate of two a day. There's a whole bloody army of them. At this rate we could have Bushes as president until someone carries me off to the barbeque in a long box. The Bush clan must be more Catholic than the Kennedys.
Next up. What the hell did the Russian forces think they were doing storming that school? If you're going to do it, do it properly - try consulting the SAS - they'll show you how it's done.
Predictably W's speech was well crafted and articulate. One of his writers alleges he does a lot of practicing for speeches which explains the difference in quality of addresses and on the hoof answers to questions. Can't blame him for that though; I'm the same.
Finally, Florida, good luck.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 11:19 CDT
2nd September 2004
GOP down in the gutter
Last night's offerings from Cheney and the loon Miller were enough to make me about puke up the little bit of pizza I could keep down before I switched on the TV. Have you ever heard such inarticulate rampant hypocrisy? Miller looked like he was about to bust several major veins as he spewed forth his technically inaccurate rhetoric and Cheney was about as friendly as a cornered ferret. If you're going to be a jerk, at least be humurous with it so that people like me don't sit spitting every time your vitriol dribbles on the microphone.
Monday night, I thought John McCain did a fairly good job of laying out some sensible and moderate comment. Even Arnie didn't annoy me; daft? Yes. But annoying? No. Last night was an embarassment to anyone who isn't stricken with the affliction of being so monocular that their eye-patch can cover a couple of 0's on the national debt. New depths of depravity methinks.
Miller is a crotchety old dude who obviously has a point to prove. Testament to his greatness is that I had never heard of him until last night...and I do follow these things. If the right are to be believed, his bong-water must have been bad for the last few years and suddenly GOP Evian has been supplied, his supply is better and as he chuckles himself to sleep, he thanks GWB for the hook-up. Or maybe it was Jenna? Who knows?
This whole campaign is devolving into a pathetic stick throwing contest. Bush as the bulldog, Kerry as the poodle. It just bores the pants off me that I sit and watch this shite. There is no substance to any of it. As I have said before, we might as well just count the campaign dollars. Or maybe measure their gonads? Ah yes, he of the mighty testicular dominance shall be King.
Bored, bored, bored. What an almighty waste of money and time. Platitudes abound. Insults prevail. And yet I sit glued to it. I don't get riled like the Missus does; I haven't the political energy anymore. But I do despair. The bipartisan thuggery is a disservice to the American people.
The only advice I can give is that if your politics are so polar, you might want to think about your IQ. There are shades of grey and choosing black or white only serves to make the system worse. Use your brain and your heart when you vote, not just your instincts.
This is not an ideal situation at all. GWB is a fool and Kerry is about as electable as my dog Sasha, who may put in a late run for the Canines Against Leashes Party. It's secular nonsense of the first order. Sadly, until we have some real leaders, we are doomed to at least another four years of incompetent rule, whether that be by GWB or Kerry. Utterly sad for a country with so many talented people.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 15:36 CDT
That will be 27 million please
So the Mighty Reds have signed England Euro 2004 star Wayne Rooney for the most obscene amount of money ever. All I can say is that I hope he is worth it. On the one hand I'm quite pleased, but on the other, we seem to be a bit forward-heavy. I tend to agree with Steve in that a defender and midfielder would have made more strategic sense. Still, at least Everton can pay off their overdraft over the next couple of years and hopefully bolster their own ranks.
It appears that young Wayne has a penchant for ladies of ill-repute. I'll send him my black book and a list of pubs he might want to frequent. Cross St and Oxford Rd Wayne.
In the meantime, I expect Ole Gunnar to depart in six months time, probably to Boro where all Utd stars seem to go to pasture.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:13 CDT
