A man and his dog, trying to make sense of it. A man trying to cook, while avoiding the dogs Cato like attempts to brain him. A man trying very hard not to complain about his working day. A man of no faith, who worships Birmingham City. A man who loves the sort of music that gets him labelled with bad words. .A dog with little brain but great appetite. Welcome to our world.. a world full of wife, children, cats and vegetables. A good world.
Friday, February 21, 2003
Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, sort of. We have a new link in the chain of the command, one rung up from the Fuck Faced Cowbag. (beautifully mixed metaphors there I thought). This level, although quite lowly in the grand scheme of things usually see themselves as being far too grand to mix with the like of us, and if there is crisis on (usually the result of one of their decisions) they lock themselves in their rooms until it is safe to come out (Vince, Simon I mean you, you pair of tossers).
This guy is very different though. For a start he looks and sounds like Wee Jimmy Krankie, I kid ye not. Then he gets involved in helping out on the ground, actually helping rather than offering stupid and pointless advice. Plus, the FFC clearly can't stand him.
Best of all though, he appears to suffer from a version of Tourettes which compels him to do completely stupid things then carry on talking as if nothing has happened..
Yesterday, very late, he appeared in the office. "Everything OK?" he enquired; mutter mutter was the collective reply (we are , rightly, wary of Greeks bearing gifts). He then feigned a right cross to a colleagues chin, before inviting everyone to give me their work as I clearly had nothing to do. After a minute or two idle chit chat he commenced a sort of highland jig around the room, arms aloft, leg kicking the lot. He then carried on as if nothing had happened, before stating someone I was in the procees of negotiating an extremely unusual and expensive contract with, on his advice, was fairly honest for a Greek. I suppose you had to be there but it was fucking hilarious.
Not that it has improved things, all along the line there are ego trips, power struggles and wars of position going on, with us poor bloody infantry, lions led by donkeys, left to clean up the camel shit. At least now it looks like we will have genuine, if unwitting light relief.
What Bush wants
Personally, I couldn't give a stuff about traffic congestion in London, although it has inspired this game based on avoiding the congestion charge.It is bloody hard.
I have absolutely no idea whether this guitar tutor site is any good or not, it appears to be the sort of selfless and philanthropic enterprise which gives the web a good name though.
Apologies if I have linked to this headless film quiz before.
Two young Blues fans, Colin Bumstead and Flavio (this is the blog that is unafraid to name the guilty men) think this dame is beautiful. I think they are off their rockers, I reckon she is plastic and soulless. The youth of today...I am disappointed.
Sorry to go on about Ed Harcourt again. I cannot remember when I last had a song spinning around my very being like Bittersweetheart is. Just thought I would mention it.
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