Happy war

Christmas is over.

The C'riz household now has a large surplus of vegetables.

We went to tesco yesterday to find a wall of clearance stuff blocking the entrance. About 5 cubic meters (approx guess) each of potatoes, carrots & swedes. All sell by that day, so a trolley full for less than a pound.

Then today we went to asda who had 20 or so boxes of sprouts at 1p per bag. Again, become toxic at midnight. Both stores also had a giant heap of iceberg lettuce, so I guess no one likes lettuce for Christmas.

It's such a waste though. People starving around the world, and Barno shops have massively over ordered on stuff just so they don't sell out, but will end up throwing it all away. I know supermarkets pay very little for products, but surely they can't make a profit this way?

In other news I've started reading a new author - John Barnes. So far I'm liking what I see, it's all pretty twisted far out stuff. The last one was an alternate futures, what would happen if WW2 had been won by the Germans?

Makes you think.... What if Yoko had taken the bullets n John Lennon had lived?

Back to life

back to reality, sang soul II soul.

They left out the bit about it grinding you down. Although, really if I think about it I'm glad to be back working. Christmas hasn't exactly been a barrel of laughs, more a simmering pot of hatred ready to bubble over at any minute. On the bright side I haven't had seasonal depression yet.

It's a false start really, 'cos the post will throw me another stoppage for new year, but then it's ahead, groove factor five! There's so much to look forwards to in the new year! I've got the dentist lined up to tell me a)broken teeth and b) kerching!, the doctor to tell me all about living (or not) with liver failure.

On the nice side of things, the stained glass course starts again, and I may do the spice thing, and I have a few other top secret plans I'm thinking I may do if they don't terrify me silly. More on this when I've thought it through a bit more.

Greets to the other working hommies! Boo to Idiot Girl and her smug still on holiday attitude.

My Christmas

by C'riz, class 2b.

So Christmas day rolls round. I put on my most brave face and go out to face the family.

It's moderately awful on the present front. Every year I tell them I don't want anything. Which is true, if I have desires for stuff I act on them and buy. I don't need things to be happy. This time they've gone for the lots of choklit & a cuddly toy approach. Meh. What's wrong with the amazon gift voucher if a) you really must buy something and b) have no clue?

I then drive to idiot girl's to deliver the heavy things she has got that have been left here. Idiot girl is "ill". Nothing to do with having spent most of the night consuming large quantities of C₂H₅OH... no siree.... I am rather lacking in sympathy. Especially when I am told she has poured a large amount of fat down the sink, and now the sink 'doesn't work'. Guess that will be my fun later.

We watch doctor who, which is, frankly, rubbish. Token 3 minute appearance by Pond & boyo. It's also totally wrong, the doctor reasons with people to change, not meddles with time to force them to.

It's now 7pm, so Idiot girl has gone out for round 2 of liver damage. Ma Ma's magic sink unblocking solution hasn't worked at all, so muggins gets to dismantle the pipes and physically pull out the fat. This pleasant job is made all the better by Ma Ma's stuff being basically strong bleach that burns my arm and ruins my jeans. Marvellous!

Fast forwards to boxing day. Idiot girl is even more "ill". Ma Ma tells Idiot girl she is going to the sales. Idiot girl tells Ma Ma that today is a Sunday (correct), and boxing day cannot be on a Sunday (wrong), and thus all the shops will be shut as it's illegal to be open on the day after Christmas if it's not boxing day.

Bizarrely Ma Ma believes this steaming pile of Tottenham that Idiot girl has invented and stays at home. Well, believes it until the news comes on, broadcasting live from the mall with record crowds. Ma Ma then spends the next hour moaning about it to me.

Ma Ma then settles down to watch, and I kid you not, crocodile dundee (the teatime censored edit). She has the tv cranked up to max volume. Oh Ma Ma, could you turn it down a soupcon please?
She turns it down to the point where it is inaudible, and starts giving me the sigh and glare treatment.
Bugger this for a game of soldiers. I get changed and go to work in my -3 C garage. So I was also joining the illegal working stiffs on my day off. At least it's free from other people there, so I cannot be wrong.
Slight snag that all this cold has turned my coolant tank to a block of ice, but I manage to smash it into smaller chunks and then melt them with fire.

One positive outcome is I'm 95% decided to go for it. I be thinking of joining spice, which appears to attract persons 35 - 45 who have no life and want to meet new people and do new things. Who knows, I could be lucky and get my very own bunny boiler...

Even if I don't, I'm going to try and do more new things this coming year.

Right, off to read the blogs of other nice people. Attempt to get the happy by osmosis. Come on, hurry up and write them....

Merry everythings to all

Even teh Misty who has today blocked me from her flickr. I think it's supposed to upset me for Christmas. Shame it isn't doing. In fact it's a nice sense of closure, draws a line under things. Be a new year soon, and hopefully a new me.

I know you're prolly busy with family, fun, work (delete as applicable), so I'll leave you with a song. I like this one, alien visitation myths are soooo cool!




(Yes, I know it's a cover. I like the smokie version better than mr. lady in red)

Merry everythings, may you find whatever you are looking for.

Sorry doggies

I've found an alternative use for mein papa's money.

A bloke I 'know' from the interweb has been going downhill for years now. Can't get work, isn't entitled to benefits. A couple of years ago he sold his apartment and has been living off the money since. Today he emailed me to say 'goodbye for now', as the money has finally run out and he's being evicted on the 26th. He's in the USA, the land of the free.... free to end up in a tent @ -10C

So I'm sending him the money. I doubt it will go far, but it may help a little. He's hoping to be able to claim disability benefits, but doesn't find out if he 'wins' until 22nd February. Not sure what happens if he loses.

Sad face= on.

Fear

Had a truly frightening experience today. The plan was simple, go to tescos and buy shopping, then go to the tyre shoppe and have my new tyres fitted at vast expense.

Tescos part went fine. Got in the car, and drove onto the road. Ma Ma starts fiddling in her bag. "Are you not feeling well Ma Ma?" (For Ma Ma is diabetic). Indeed she has testing kit in her hand, but appears to be struggling to use it. "No problem, I'll pull into the DIY store car park", which I do 2 minutes later.

"Right, you can test now".

Oh dear.... Ma Ma has fallen forwards with only the seatbelt keeping her from going splat. She is also not responding to me unless I shout, which gets the smallest of eye movement. I don't need a meter to tell me this is mega low blood sugar. I take the bag off her knee to get the glucose tablets out of it.

Er, why are there no glucose tablets, just an empty wrapper? Argh!!!!

You know the bit in back to the future where Marty dives in the delorian to escape from the Libyans? Lets see if you bastards can do 90!!!! It was a bit like that.... Jumped 3 red lights, went down the no entry except buses road, dumped the car and miss. voyage to trip out city on tesco's petrol station forecourt. One dash inside and I have glucose energy drink & choklit.

Came back out to find she's revived to the level where she's holding the blood test meter as if it's an artefact from another planet. Ma Ma, put it down and drink this. No, all of it please...

10 minutes later, and she's back in the land of humans. Where are we? Why aren't we at the cash machine? So obviously all in between was totally lost.

The fear being she's not typically like this. She normally knows when a hypo is beginning (I guess she had an idea 'cos of getting the meter out), but normally she's got 5-10 minutes of feeling ill before she becomes properly ill. It terrifies me to think if this had happened in the town when she was on her own.

Kill it with fire

I'm having a day off. Not 'cos I'm lazy, or can't take it any more, but 'cos it's just too dangerous to work today. Currently it's minus 5 Celsius. My 1940's vintage lathe is frozen solid by ice. At a push I could defrost it, but I think such an old lady deserves better. It would be quite easy to cause an irreparable crack, so I'm going for it's tough if you left it this late to order.

Plus the radio has found a new way to torture me. If you dare, clicky here followed by the play arrow.

Please note this is not my local radio station. Imagine the same thing, but without musical backing, or anyone capable of singing, being 'energetically' shouted by a half drunk Yorkshire man.

It needs killing to death. With fire.

Oh mein papa

No, not the song by the man with the golden trumpet.

I'm talking the one I'm (unfortunately) related to. I realised some gimp was thumping on my door, and hoping it was my new books being delivered went to look. No such joy, tis mein papa.

Come in, we can talk.

Of course this is the one thing we actually can't do. He doesn't want to listen to anything I have to say. He tells me how drunk he got. (I'm so impressed). I then get the questions. The same old tiresome questions.

These are:
1) How's your mum?
2) How's your sister?
3) Are you courting?

One day I'm going to really give him an answer to 3) Prolly the only reason I've not done so far is I've not decided which I like best.

"Actually, I'm gay. Ok if I bring my boyfriend round for sunday lunch?"
or
"Money can't buy you happiness. But it can buy you the love of a honey skinned dancer from Brazil."
or
"My cult leader says I must stab anyone who asks that. ~fx: sharpens knife~"

More (better) suggestions on a postcard plz.

Oh, and I got the same old envelope. The one I know will contain the same card as the last 20 years. I think he got them in bulk. But something is different this time.... there's £50 in it. Frankly, I'm not interested in him or his money. I'll prolly give it to Idiot Girl to burn, unless you have a better plan?

L.F.T

Or I'm going to die.

So my day starts with noticing the snow is coming back. I also have a message saying my aluminium has been delivered, so that's my day planned for me then, go fetch it while I'm still able to.

Halfway there and my phone rings. Tis Ma Ma, telling me the doctors has phoned, and would only say it's nothing to be worried about and to call them.

Awooga! Awooga!
They never phone you, you always have to chase them for results. So I'm instantly suspicious something is wrong. The feeling intensifies when I got there. (I called in as it's on the way home).

"Ah... Yes... you need another blood test, and then you'll need an appointment to see the doctor."

Crystal palace, go to defcon 2... Blood tests always work like take the test, results come back to the doctor, you phone up and they tell you what the doc thinks. I need an appointment before taking tells me they just want confirmation that I'm still on my last legs.

The last blood test had every box possible ticked. This one only has LFT, which of course is liver function test. Or maybe liver failure time.

Anyone want to bagsie some bits in my will?

Songs in the key of argh

If you work in a shop, or have the misfortune to spend more than 20 minutes in one you will no doubt hear one of those Christmas songs that makes you want to kill.

I think it's important to share things with people, so here's my lazy blogging of my least favourite Christmas song:



You may be thinking, but this isn't a Christmas song. Well, technically, no it isn't. But I've only got to hear 5 seconds of it and I get the horror come flooding back. It was in the charts Christmas 1992. I was working in a dive bar in a west end town in the centre of sunny Barnsley. It was awful, to ten decimal places.

The worst thing was the place couldn't decide what it wanted to be. I think technically it was supposed to be an Irish themed olde worlde pub. When it was quiet you would have old men, and the background muzzax was irish. To the point where the staff would pay to use the jukebox to turn it off.

But it also had insanely cheap drink promotions, so it was like a switch was pulled and all the younger peeps would appear and dance round their handbags. So that was my Christmas hell. If
I hear "man in the moon", "dancing queen" or "my way" I'm transported back there. Telling the boss I'm just going out for a smoke (when I don't) was the only way to escape the madness.

And your personal soundtrack to hell includes.....?

Faith, hop, and charity

And the greatest of these is hop.

(They just don't make tv like that these days).

So today I joined the rest of the lemmings for "a bit of last minute xmas shopping".
Yes, of course it was awful. Though low stress as a) I know exactly what I want and b) I don't know people, so didn't have to join in with the standard tiresome conversation (Eyup jack, hows tha goin? Not bad Fred... Is tha ready for xmas? etc etc as you block the way for people on a mission).

I also did a bit of the charity thing. As teh Misty is now officially an ex friend (n yes, still makes me sad) that means I don't have to buy her a present. So I have more money to use up.

Charity #1: Barno dog rescue.
Who are asking for food for dogs. I like this, it's direct and you are obviously helping the ones in need (teh dogs). I buy them dog food.

Charity #2 is found at tescos: The salvation army.
They want money, and have three men armed with instruments attempting to persuade you to give it. They must be the backup team, as normally the SA have big bands who can play. This lot though where I felt going for the pity vote. They would start strongly on a carol, but after about 45 seconds it all goes a bit wrong as the bloke with the tuba fluffs it, and they realise they don't know all the music. There was then a pause while they confer on what to try next, sadly with the same result.
I gave them 10 quid, and was wished a merry Christmas in return.

I don't mind giving them money, as I believe on the whole they do good work and help people. Ok, I'm still unsure on the god question, but you can put that aside and admire the help they give to people. If there is a God I'm sure all (s)he really wants is for us to be nice to each other.

Charities I'm not helping this year are the ones who have sent me fancy letters asking for help. This may appear mean when all they want is £20 to save a life / build a well / help Simba's cubs / cure cancer etc, but I've fallen for this one before. You give them £20, and over the next year they spend £19 of it sending you letters asking you for more money. I'm sure it's a front for a paper making company. I'd much rather buy dog food as I know it helps dogs.

Compare. Contrast.

I had the misfortune to be in the garage with the radio on at the same time as the charts was on. The dross that passes for music these days is unbelievable.

But there was one interesting thing. This year's first attempt at getting an anti x factor Christmas no 1 made it to #9. It was this song:



They played about 15 seconds of it, and then cut it, the oh so clever 'presenters' basically saying what a load of old sh*t, but in polite radio speak.

The chart then continues until #4 which is this:



This is apparently dead brilliant sayeth smashy n nicey.

The question:
Am I the only one to spot a similarity between said songs? Surely you could take teh bird song, add some random idiot mumbling rap over the top and it wouldn't be a million miles from teh hair song?

Answers on a postcard....

Doctor Doctor

can't you see I'm burning burning? (And repeating my words.)

Our doctor's operates a system whereby you have to plan illness 6 weeks in advance 'cos that's how long it takes to get an appointment. Unfortunately I forgot to plan ahead and so didn't have an appointment.

My problem is thus:
I'm itching. Randomly. With no spots, redness, etc. I can want to tear my face off for an hour, and then it stops and moves somewhere else.

After a week of this, life has been less than fun. So once again I check the online booking thing, and lo! there is an appointment in half an hour! Zoomed down there, told my tale of woe to the nice lady.

After a few random guesses (have you changed washing powder?) , and vice investigation (how much tea /coffee / alcohol? Er, none), I am booked in for a blood test with all the boxes ticked.

I am also 'given' this rather large 1kg tub of magic cream. Which doesn't do that much, but looks impressive.




Feel free to play diagnosis if you like? Bonus points for dead by xmas.

Erection

I was woken this morning by a large erection. Or more precisely by the monkeys constructing said erection next door. Said erection was pointed out to Ma Ma, who was less than happy.

Yesterday we spent quite a bit of time shovelling ice from the street so the bin could be placed exactly on the pavement edge. Said bin hasn't been emptied for three weeks due to the snow, so it is essential it gets emptied today. We know that if they have to walk on frozen stuff to get the bin, elf n safety will decide it's dangerous, and it won't be emptied.

So Ma Ma is quite peeved that the monkeys have a) moved the bin back onto the snow and b) are using the cleared bit to unload their truck. Some people would get passive aggressive here. Ma Ma prefers the direct approach. "Oi, monkeys! Put my bloody bin back where you got it from or I'll empty it in your bloody truck!"

For a 5 foot woman she is very intimidating. Said bin is replaced. Sadly I am kept awake as they create their erection all morning.

The house next door now has scaffolding all over the front with a bit looking like a diving board platform extending to the chimney. Quite what the intent is I'm not sure, but Ma Ma is getting a good head of steam built, as after all the chimney is 50% ours. Observe this space for developments.

Upbeat

Re-reading my rantings this month, it would be fair to say they project a picture of misery and depression. Whilst it is true all the Idiot Girl tasks have been less than fun, this is perhaps to borrow an s. duck phrase "the best Christmas Walford's ever seen".

Normally by now Xmas will have started getting to me, and I will have started acting fairly S.A.D

I don't know if the anger / sleep deprivation / mind numbing stupidity / sub zero temperatures is what's stopping it this year, or if I'm somehow magically cured, but I suppose I should enjoy it while I can.
Though I do keep going off on flights of fancy about saying sod it all and going to visit friend in New Zealand to escape.

Onto teh lazy blogging:



Anyone else remember this?

Must admit it's the video that sticks in my mind, pretty amazing for 1985. Of course today any child with a pc could do it.

Not again?

Yes, again.

Idiot girl again destroys my peace and calm. She does this by the power of telephones. You may or may not know, but I hate the bloody things, gives me the wiggins. So you can imagine my pleasure at being woken up by three phones (house, my mobile, Ma Ma's mobile) all ringing simultaneously.

Not much of a shock to find out all three are in fact her. She as always has a demand: Instantly take the keys for her sold house to the new owner. Now! I command you! Slightly annoying as it's already been arranged they where to be taken today.

To keep the peace I get up and we sort of follow her demands. We take them to the estate agents instead.

As we have now done her bidding she keeps the annoyance level high by phoning every hour to find out if her car is fixed yet.

The day ends, and she should be happy. House sale is fully done, and cannot be reversed. She has her car back and it's cost her nothing. (me £60, Ma Ma £200). So she is in a foul mood instead. I truely wish she would move to Australia, but that's a soupcon unfair on the people already there.

Downwards spiral

I go shopping moderately late night (9 - 10pm). This suits me as a) less people and b) more 'must sell before midnight or we throw it away' bargains.

Recently I've noticed more people. Lots more. Methinks more people have noticed the offers. So nobody buys in the day hoping to get things mega cheap at night.

It's working, but it's only going to end in tears. If they only sell stuff at reduced price surely the point will be reached where they order less stuff in the first place?

Some of it makes no sense though. Eg, 1 litre of paint full skim milk, 10p. Display until today, best before 7 days from today. What's that all about?
We bought one for idiot girl, as no suprise she likes the bloody awful stuff. Except.. Oh Ma Ma, why does this tea taste bloody awful?
Er, it's IG's Awful milk.

IG refused to have it as 'reduced', and even IG's dog wasn't stupid enough to drink it, so Ma Ma thought she'd dump it on me in the hope I wouldn't notice. Er, peal the reduced label off & put it in IG's fridge.

I did enjoy the 1/2 Kilo of perfect grapes for 10p. And the 6 pack of teacakes for 2p where perfectly fine, though Ma Ma usually refuses to buy reduced bread. Don't know why, it's still fine to use.

Methinks half the problem is the silly sub 10p pricing. If they charged more it wouldn't spiral downwards to the point where all people have is reduced stuff. It does feel 'nice' to have a full bag and have spent less than a pound though.

Idiot Update

I am officially poorer. And have had a nightmare morning.

Went to the bank. "we're closed, try our other branch". Went to bank #2.

Hello, I would like to make an instant transfer of lots of money from this account here...
Sorry, no can do, that's a savings account.
Ok, what about this business account here?
We cannot do that in branch, phone our helpline. Phoned them, yes we can do it, we will post you out the forms. Er, hardly an instant transfer if it's by post is it? That's the policy sir, bugger off.

Helpful lady in branch asks if it's ok. No, it isn't ok. I have lots of my money in your bank, and I can't spend it.

I then had an idea. Er, can I open an account that I am allowed to spend my money out of, so you can put my money in it, and then I'll instant transfer it out? Bev (for we are on first name terms by now) thinks it's a plan that may just work.

We open a new account. I'm missing out the bits where they ask everything including your shoe size, but I pass the credit check to open an account.

Ok, will just transfer the money out now. Success? Oh, no. Have to follow procedure... computer asks do I have the cash card for the account? Er, no, 'cos we only created it 5 minutes ago. Computer says no.

Bev phones helpline who spend about 40 minutes checking my dna, passport authenticity, etc etc before finally saying yes!

I nearly broke down and cried, and it's not even for me. I am officially 14K poorer and Idiot Girl now doesn't own a house.

So we phoned IG to tell her the news (this has taken about 2 hours by now). IG's idea of thanks is to snarl FINALLY! and slam the phone down.

Went to the shops, followed by a return to the bank to give Bev flowers.

Job done, just IG & car to sort out now, and I can get back to a peaceful life.

Groundhog minute

It's like groundhog day, but worse.

So idiot sister finds out that her house sale must complete tommorrow, but to do so the solicitors wants 14K of real money. Idiot girl has approx 57p. I am thus a target, as I save for the bright future that's just round the corner, honest.

Engage panic mode! This involves Ma Ma & Idiot Girl phoning a) solicitors, b)estate agents, c)bank, and d) each other.

D) is the killer. Because Ma Ma repeats to idiot girl everything she's said to a,b, &c. IG does likewise. Ma Ma then repeats the entire conversation to me. So I've heard it 3 times already. Then she spends the next hour either a) Saying shall I phone X, or b) rehashing everything that has been already said.

By the end of the day even though I've never met any of the people involved I feel I know them all intimately. I definately know exactly what they have said. I also feel the urge to destroy every phone I see. And to play this very loudly.

Of course Friday is also gonig to be fun. For 'tis off to the bank where I have to somehow sameday transfer £14,000 of my lovely hard earned money from my account that the bank staff are not allowed to talk to me about. (Internet management only).

Methinks it will be more groundhog fun. Send me positive vibes please if you have some to spare.

Foot. Gun.

Bang!

This guide brought to you with the help of Idiot Girl. (Naturally).

Situation is: still plenty of snow about, IG does not have her car. Yesterday she refused my car 'cos it wasn't defrosted and heated for her.

Today the queen arrives, and long suffering Ma Ma points out there is over 14 inches of snow on the back road where it is parked, and is IG sure she can actually drive it out backwards for 100 yards to the clearer roads?

IG tells Ma Ma to p*ss off and throws the keys in the snow and stomps off. Ma Ma doesn't do the logical thing of letting her (as she only hurts herself by walking), and gets your poor suffering narrator out of bed. I drive the car onto the main road. I then phone IG.

Do you want the car?
sweary sweary.
I'm not in the mood for your shit this early in the day. Do you want it, yes or no, or I'm putting it back away again.
Can I drive it?
Yes.
Can I drive it all day?
~sigh~ yes.
Fine! Phone slammed down.

Drove to IG's house. Here is the car IG. "Just drive me to the bus station"

By this point I've had enough of her games, and am not going to beg her to take it like she wants. I drive. Here we are, get out of my car, see you later!

But... I've not got wellies, I thought I would be driving!!!!!

You asked for the bus station, you get the bus station. Bye!

~~~~wavy lines~~~~~ (that's time passing you know)

It's now mid afternoon. IG presents a new problem. Can I lend her in the region of £14,000, and it must get to her solicitors by tommorrow or her house sale will fail.

Yes, I am stupidly trying to sort it. No I do think it's likely to happen. Somebody pass me something very good for headache curing plz?

Frozen doom

It's a warm -2 celsius tonight. Warm as for some reason the day was minus 3. Explain me that weather people.

Doom, as once again idiot girl's car is in for fixing. Fixed 2 days, so she breaks it good this time. The clutch pedal does nothing other than make extra grindy noises from the engine direction. So had to grab a mate and have it towed in for fixing.

Which means IG will be borrowing my car. Again with terror turned up to eleven. Frozen = ice patches plus it keeps snowing X IG stupid factor = I will be lucky if she doesn't stuff it thru a wall, or work her magic car killing skills on it.

The mechanic also did the world famous sucking air thru teeth noises, which is the internationally recognised method of telling you it's "gonna cost ya mate!". He also said be lucky to get it back this week as removing the gearbox is step 1) remove car. Step 2) you now have the gearbox left.

Plz to cross some digits for me.

Technology

My pc died earlier this week. So I'm on my 6 month old windows 7 laptop. It is hellish.

Being professionally cheap, I have an ancient deskjet 690c for a printer. This is because I print a lot of invoices etc for evilbay. Lots of printing = lots of ink, but 5 year out of date printer carts cost about £1.50 each. So I spend < £10 a year on ink.

Alll well and good, but modern computers only have usb ports. Ye olde HP is a proper LPT1 parallel port only printer. So I've had to use my other laptop to print. The one that is 200 mhz, and struggles to handle modern bloated webpages. It's been awful. 3 minutes each time to get to the point where I can print.

So I bought a USB to parallel magic converter thing. Use your old printer it says on the box. And you can.... If you don't mind it taking 5 minutes per page for it to transfer. You can almost hear the printer going "come on... give me more data to print you ####".

It's only taken me all week to think of it, but I now have the answer. Machine a) can print, but crap at rendering interweb. Machine b) is the opposite. Share the printer over the network,and each machine can do the part it's good at. Success!

I can't help thinking it would be a lot easier if new pc's still had lots of real ports...

***************
In other news, I have my car back from Idiot Girl, without any damage. yay! Fortunately the snow hasn't really reached here yet.

Everything crossed

Today I am loaning Idiot Girl my car while hers has water leak #3 hopefully fixed.
The weather is also forecast to include snow.

Thus I have everything crossed that I get my car back before the snow gets here. Yes it's a 4x4, but in IG's case this is a bad thing. 4x4 = goes better. Does not equal stops any better. IG isn't known for forwards planning so will think about the stop part when she needs to.

As it be lazy blogging day I give to you:
duran duran - girls on film (NSFW)



I remember seeing this version once the first time round at like, er, 3am. It was so close to pRon back then! Outrage! Ban this sick filth! And all that.

On lost friends

Monday was teh Misty's birthday. As is obvious by the lack of blog posts, she's given up blogging. But I left a "happy birthday" comment to her last abandoned post just in case she ever comes back. A bit like the gold record stuck on the voyager space probes, hopeful but probably futile. (And could result in the destruction of the earth by hostile alien forces)

I note nobody else commented, so I suspect that means I'm the only one stupid enough to keep track of dates relating to people who have moved on. I just hope she wasn't expecting peeps to comment, and then when they don't is upset by it.

I may also have done the snail mail present thing. Though when I think about it more perhaps I shouldn't have. Tis obvious she's not friends with me any more, and including a note that may have said between the lines "Oi Tina, stop wasting your bloody life and do something useful instead" may not have been the kindest thing to do.

Of course the real problem is I can over do it on playing the empathy game... I can think of several reasons why she's vanished, and how she could be feeling now. I hope she's blissfully happy watching tv, smoking and drinking lidl's cheapest industrial alcohol pretending to be wine every day. But I doubt it.

Busted

Or how Idiot Girl isn't quite as smart as she thinks.

Ma Ma arrives home from a shopping trauma trip with IG. Bad news! There is another problem with IG's car, the heater is now broken!!!!

Broken, how broken?

As in no hot air comes out of it, duh!

Elementary dear Watson. IG still has a leak on her vehicle (#3 if you#re counting). IG doesn't care. Ergo there is no water left to heat, and no heat is thus transferred to the interior of the car. To IG's, where we will confirm my hypothesis!

Sadly Ma Ma spoils my fun by phoning IG first and telling her my theory. We arrive to find IG with a fine manure eating grin on her face. You are wrong diddly wrong, for look! the car engine is full of water!

O reily? says the owl that happens to be passing by.

1) Why is the water in the expansion tank clear water coloured, and not very green with the green dye that is in the coolant system?

2) Why when I put my finger in it is it stone cold when the engine is hot?

You've filled it up after being tipped off by Ma Ma, and I will prove this now. Started engine, 15 seconds later it's green coolant, not clear water. Busted.....

Sorted for E's and whizz

So I did some thinking following yesterday's Wah! I can't see pulp post.

Thoughts included "I never do anything spontaneous that I want to", "I've never seen anyone I like live", "shoulda woulda coulda are the last words of a fool".

Upshot is, I've been on that there interwebs and observed pulp are also doing the wireless festival for a mere £55 a ticket. Tis in that there London. In happier times I may have asked teh Misty if she wants a day out. But those days are gone gone gone (woh ooo).

I don't want to go on my own, and thus have done potentially a very silly thing. Idiot Girl, my favourite (& only) sister, what are you doing next July?

Result: I have booked two tickets. A day out with IG. Must add masochism to my list of mental problems.

She came from Greece

She had a thirst for knowledge. Or so I'm told.

News reaches these parts that pulp are to reform. Woo?

When I was at uni their cd 'different class' was more like a constant background noise. Everywhere you went some student would be playing it. Goes and checks the photo archive....



This be a typical one room student place. In this case, it was Digger's (The girl with the excellent colour coordination skills).

Observe:
a) Jarvis Cocker poster.
b) Assorted student types.
c) Presence of half finished pints in the daytime.

I can hear common people in my head...

Er, where was I? Oh yes, pulp reforms. And it is announced they will be playing the Isle of Wight festival. No , I am not going. For assorted reasons. Bit beyond my powers to go there on my own. Bit beyond my wallet @ £150 a ticket, plus a large chunk of cash to get there, food etc.

Still, nice to dream eh?

On Names

Over the years I've been given several different names. True "oi you" may have featured heavily.

In my uni years I was "the Bettster", due to a sudden fashion of adding "ster" to people's names. (Craigster, Paulster etc. But strangely Biff was given Biffatolah Khomeini for a period).

In recent years I have reinvented myself as C'riz. It's short (less typing), sounds vaguely like my real name, and has a geek connection that I like. It's being my own alternate spelling of C'rizz (pronounced as "Keh-riz") from the big finish eighth doctor audio plays.

I was informed by the tutor on the stained glass course that the person that runs the only glass shoppe in town a) gives students a hard time and b) stupid nicknames. As he has the only glass shoppe it's inevitable you will go there at some point.
I have been twice now, and this week the tutor announced I have a new name. I am "the man who buys everything".

I'm not sure if this is because I have purchased all the basic tools & supplies you need to do the job, or because I purchased 4 kilos of assorted broken glass pieces. Prolly the latter.

But I know my limitations, so why not learn how to do it (aka get it wrong) on the cheapest glass you can get hold of? Having watched Sue basically smash a £6 sheet of glass into small bits by way of not listening to what she's told I'm glad to do it my way. It would hurt to ruin good glass to me.

I've also got a cunning plan, that will make the glass man think I'm totally barking. I noticed as well as the scrap glass, there was a big pile of very small (under 2 inches square) pieces of glass. I'm assuming this is also for sale at similar price to the bigger broken bits. Broken glass sells at £2.50 per kilo. I have observed there is someone selling small broken bits on evilbay successfully at £10 per kilo.
The capitalist in me says 4 X mark up = my glass is free from profits on selling his really small pieces. This time next year Rodney.....

Space bound

Caution: Sweary words.



I have this stuck on earworm to the max.

This bit:
I'm a space-bound rocketship and your heart's the moon
And I'm aimin' right at you
Right at you
250, 000 miles and a clear night in June
And I'm so lost without you

without you
without you

Of course rockets have several possible uses. Exploration. The furthering of man's scientific knowledge. Or blowing things up. The Ronny Raygun solution.

Methinks next stained glass project has to be a rocket. It's like a message, or something.

Bullet in 'Nam

Something is happening with the house that Idiot Girl has (provisionally) sold for a huge loss.

Ma Ma went there today to find all the heating has been turned on full. As Idiot Girl is paying for the gas this is not a good thing. Engage Ma Ma wanting taking to the estate agents to retrieve all keys.

Followed by the possibility that someone has acquired a copy of the key. (Estate agents deny it was them). Ma Ma wants the alarm turning on. (Thinking they may have a key, but don't have the alarm code).

Ok... drove her to the house. I'll put the alarm on shall I? Actually no, pass me a gun so I can shoot myself in the head.

Ma Ma starts telling me a really long sequence of numbers you must enter to activate the alarm. Er Ma Ma, it says here on the alarm, "To activate press the full set button".

Ma Ma then goes into a long and rather boring story that Idiot Girl has a dog (true), and the alarm has been reprogrammed so you can deactivate some of the sensors so it won't detect the dog and so you must enter this long sequence to set the mode so it won't detect the dog.

Er... Ma Ma.... The dog is in Idiot Girl's other house... it doesn't live here... there are no dogs at all... ergo you don't have to turn off the sensors that would detect a dog, as you don't have one present to detect.

Ma Ma becomes angry and tells the long dog story again. I explain the absence of dog. Again.

Rinse and repeat a few times.

The alarm is now set, so invisible dogs won't trigger it. I got bored of hitting my head on the wall.

Boom boom

shake the room...

5th of November, 1605. One Guy Fawkes is captured avec large quantities of gunpowder, planned for the opening of parliament, destruction thereof.

The failed plot is celebrated to this day, by the common man showing how he can blow shit up in the comfort of his own yard. Your humble narrator also suggests it likely that at some point it went from celebrating failure to wishful thinking of someone doing it right this time and getting rid of the bloody government.

Of course the house of C'riz had to take part in this ritual. Locally it is traditional to go out and buy some bloody huge industrial grade explosive devices, ignore the label that says spectators must be at least 100 yards away, and set them off 10 foot from your house.

C'riz does not follow this tradition. Instead we buy the ones with the bad engrish labels that technically are safe to use in a small garden. Of course being cheap does not always mean cheerful.

This years highlights where the rockets. Whoosh! Up shoots the rocket. Boo, it didn't go bang! Rocket is overcome by the effects of gravity and comes earthwards.... until it's 10 foot up and it then goes boom!
Hmmm, this is not how things are supposed to work. It could also be described as bloody dangerous. Lateral thinking is engaged, and the launcher tube realigned. They now follow a beautiful parabolic arc, over the fence and explode in next doors garden. The fence shields us from the blast, and we get our own back for the week of demolition next door has undertaken.

After decimating their garden we moved onto more peaceful chinese lanterns. Light the wick, wait and then watch as the paper balloon gracefully floats into the night sky. Bliss.

Lets do another one! Lights lantern, up it goes. We comment on how high they go, really high. Look it must be windy up there as our lantern is rocking fairly violently. Oh dear, the lantern appears to have had a hole burnt in the side. It's coming back down! It's coming back down really fast. That lantern (*cough*, whoever it belongs to) appears to be a flaming ball of fiery death.

The gift of fire is bestowed approx 300 yards away. Fortunately nothing appears to catch fire following 'splashdown', but it was an interesting experiment in ye olde worlde siege weapons.

We now await retribution from persons living nearby.

It's a sin

When I look back upon my life
It's always with a sense of shame
I've always been the one to blame

Sad face

After the triumphant visit to the glass shoppe, this weekend I decided to set up things in my studio (Sounds better than cleared a bit of space in the garage non?)

Ahead, groove factor five!
Soldering iron plugged in, and work commences on my project. This bit goes well, I don't start any fires or injure myself. I feel good.

I know, lets try cutting some of that funky glass I got from the scrap pile. Pick up cutter, drop cutter on floor, feel the horror as the cutter smashes into two pieces. I feel bad.

Engage sad face. £28 of cutting tool that has cut, er nothing whatsoever is now a broken piece of plastic that is bleeding oil on the floor. The worst part isn't the loss of the money. It's I can't go back and buy another one as they will want to know what happened to the one I bought last week?

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

How to get a free catalogue

So I went to the glass supplies place with the other students. We are told if possible get a catalogue 'cos it's full of useful stuff. Of course I also know places are loathe to give them away as they are expensive to print.

So we looked at the glass. Then we went outside to look at the broken pieces which are a lot cheaper, as, well, they're broken. As I'm picking up pieces I get a sharp one that cuts my finger painfully. Ouch!

Manly, I try and ignore it as if I think about it I will faint. We go back inside, and the other students are done. Spend £7 & £14. No free catalogues for them! But I want tools. So I pick up a catalogue, flick to the tool page and ask have you got one of those?

Tools are supplied and I give the man £60. I go to put the catalogue back, and he says no mate, you can keep it. Yay! I must have used all my powers of charm!

Er, no. It's only when I get home and am flicking thru my prize I realise there are bloody fingerprints all over the cover. Ooops. So that's my hot tip of the day, add your dna and people won't want it back...

I am your density

I mean, your destiny.

Hot date today with (count 'em) two ladies. Well, that was the 'ha ha' description....

Reality is I'm off to the stained glass supply place with the two ladies from the course so I can hide behind them, as the glass place has a reputation for not actually wanting to sell you things. Safety in numbers and all that.

Confidence is low. Repeat confidence is low. But who knows, it may be fun, and I suspect I will spend mucho money, and gain glassy things.

**********

In other news, a friend's facebook thing has a link to a test. A test for "find out how autistic like you are". Maybe I shouldn't have taken it.

Average result is 16 out of 50. Above 32 is quite likely you are at least a soupcon fruitloop.

I got 35. Go me! At least now you know what to get me for xmas, 10 rolls of rubber wallpaper will do nicely.

Burning money

The Idiot Girl easy way. A brief and concise guide to cash loss that anyone can follow no matter how stupid.

Step 1) Buy a house you don't like. It's a good idea to get one that nobody in their right mind will ever want to buy for the later stages of this plan. Cost: £68,500

Step 2) Spend £4000 of other people's money on the house that you don't like. Move in. Wait 2 weeks. Declare you hate it and are moving out.

Step 3) Attempt to sell the thing. Fail miserably because you can't find a bigger idiot than yourself to buy it.

step 4) Keep dropping the price until eventually somebody does buy it. For £50,500.

Voila! Ignoring the costs of moving in/out, solicitors, interest and all the other stuff you've just managed to lose >£22,000 in 23 months.

But wait! You could also look at that you put £20,000 of your own money in to buy it, £4,000 in changes, and still owe the bank £15,000 after you've sold it. £39,000 loss sounds a lot more impressive, non?

At this point, you may be wondering why I care?
It's to do with the slight problem of the £15,000 left owing. Given she doesn't have a handful of magic beans left, I know where the £15 K is coming from. Ma Ma will be paying it, like Ma Ma paid the £4k of alterations.

No, I'm not bothered that technically I would eventually inherit half of that, and I can't if idiot girl has already spent it. I'm bothered that idiot girl's me me me attitude has put a quite sizeable dent in Ma Ma's life savings.
We all make mistakes now and then, but some of us have the backbone to live with those mistakes and not expect other people to bail them out all the time.

And relax......

On resisting the urge

to #### thru a letterbox.

As Mr. S.. Duck observes, it's the only language curs understand.

I am rather annoyed. As you may know the day job is selling stuff on ebay. I sold 2 x rubber ducks to a git, who then left neutral feedback "packaging damaged". I know this is impossible, as they are packaged to the point where they pass my own rigerous test program of throwing the box out of an upstairs window.

But then today I find he's also left 4 x 1 star for everything. Including dispatch time. 1 out of 5 for an item posted the same bloody day. Light bulb goes on, it's obviously some twonk out to cause me to lose my top rated seller rating. The other clue is he's bought 7 things off assorted sellers, and all 7 have damaged packaging. Mr unlucky or what?

So phone ebay, who tell me they're not going to do anything, as they can't see anything remotely dodgy, and it's not in any way connected with the £50 a month discount I will (potentially) lose.... Another one for the letter box treatment I think.

AND RELAX.

On the plus side I went to stained glass class, and my latest project is coming on nicely. It may even get finished next week. Woo yay me!
I can also feel a level of clever as in 5 weeks I'm the only one not to cut myself yet.

It's very surprising how much I'm enjoying it, and even more how I can do it considering I'm a left handed fool. I'm miles ahead of Sue who's special skill appears to be randomly breaking things.

Wild horses

Lazy blogging day again. How time flies!

I bring to you:
The Sundays - Wild Horses



This is of course a cover of Teh Rolling Stones.

As used in Buffy the vampire slayer, episode 3:20. Sod off Angel....

My least favourite cover of this song is the Susan Boyle one. It's pants.

Er, that's all I can think of. Sleep now.

C'riz, camera, action!

As we've become a surveillance society, I thought it's time I got in on the act. To do my bit in spying on my fellow citizens I have added a video camera to my car windscreen.

In theory it would also be rather useful if some twonk manages to drive into me as well, assuming the windscreen doesn't fall out and the device gets lost.

I've had it for a week now, and have got my first moron captured. Plz to observe below:



Said 'gent' is failing to spot the bends, big truck about to squash him etc 'cos not only is he using a mobile phone at 70 mph, he's using it by texting. (As spotted by my passenger when I finally got round him).

Later I nearly got to play squash the corsa when she suddenly slowed to 40 mph for no apparent reason. Again on overtaking it became clear, she was eating lunch from a box on the passenger seat.

What is it with people today? I am only glad that I drive a large 4x4 where they get to be my crumple zone.

Men are from Mars

Women are from Venus.
Idiot Girl is from Ceti Alpha V* methinks.

Background:
Boy meets girl. Alcohol is involved, and they pledge undying lurve. Idiot girl marries Twonko for the rest of time.

Except... fast forwards to almost two years ago, and Idiot Girl is not happy. The root of the problem is they are both selfish people who are only interested in themselves, and all they ever had in common was a love of getting totally wasted. And they don't do that any more. Idiot Girl wants OUT.

Twonko buys Idiot Girl out of his life, and she goes off, buys new houses(s), does other random stupid things, and we come to now.

Idiot Girl finds out that Twonko now has a new woman in his life. And she's totally devastated by this. Full on crying / no sleeping / drunkeness / destroy things.

This is the point where not being a) a woman, or b) insane I am failing to understand exactly what the problem is. Idiot Girl wanted OUT! Idiot Girl got what she wanted... Twonko is the inhabitant of Dumpsville, population you.

So, er, why is she remotely unhappy? Did she expect him to spend the rest of his life tying to "win her back"? I'm honest failing to understand how when she's got exactly what she wanted, what the problem is?

Answers on a postcard.

*2 geek points if you can name another Ceti Alpha V ex-resident?

And I would go 200 miles

It's like that 500 miles song, but 300 miles shorter. And a bit less Scottish.

So today I went to the model engineering exhibition. Which normally results in me spending a few hundred quid on tools, engineering purposes for. As I buy things that are a) half the time a real bargain (£50 taps for £2), or b) may be useful one day (a selection of neoprene rubber).

But today was different. In the region of bugger all engineering things. I only spent £50 ish on drills & glue. I feel a change coming over me, as the thing that sparked excitement was this:



This, in case you are wondering, is "twizzle wire". It has nothing at all to do with engineering. But it's pretty, non? And it will work brilliantly with the thing I'm currently working on in stained glass.

Who knows, next it could be medieval underwater basket weaving.

Thanks Courage Wolf

So I consulted Courage Wolf on faceache:

YOU ARE AWESOME. GO AND PROVE IT.

Ok, I will.
I have returned from a night at big scary cinema in the big scary city. Made extra scary by the fact that I'd failed to take into account that it's Wednesday. It's very busy, and people are waving mobile phones about. I then realise they're claiming two tickets for the price of one with orange. Oh dear.

I eventually make it to the front of the queue.
The nice man asks what film would I like to see? Back to the future SVP.
And how many tickets do I want? Er, one?

He gives me a pitying look that says a) you're on a crap phone network, or b) you don't have friends. Actually it's c) All of the above.

Ok, challenge uno over. Next: a drink. I would like to purchase a small diet coke plz.... £3.00 she says, while simultaneously handing me a container that has at least a litre of caffeine overload in it. Good job I didn't ask for large.

I make my way to the cinema. As expected (I've never been here before) it's the modern multiplex small room thing. It's moderately full. I pick an empty spot over towards the right somewhere half way back.

I then make an observation. Right in the middle of the prime seating bit there is a girl on her own. Really on her own, she has the entire row. This is very odd. I can only come up with the reasons that a) crazy loners are scary to normal people or b) she is attractive, and people don't want to get too close in case her thug of a boyfriend is going to turn up at any minute and be a pita.

It continues to fill up, and people arrive around me. I must admit this is a cause of anxiety, especially when one of them manages to pour beer everywhere. But I don't run screaming into the night, so this has to be a good thing.

Film starts. 88 miles per hour! Great Scott! My name is Darth Vader! Earth angel.... etc.
Film ends.

If you do get a chance to go see this at the cinema, tis worth it. It looks gorgeous. N yes, yet another version be coming to dvd and bluray near you...

**************

Not sure if I managed the prove you are awesome bit. But it went better than I expected, and I didn't need to cheat at any point. I so need to add a friend to the mix though. Friends wanted, apply to the gimp in the corner.

Yay Day.

So tis Friday. Aka stained glass class day.

And I'm all excited, as I have a secret weapon that will make everyone say 'That C'riz is awesome, and we are jealous of his cleverness and big head".

We be going to make something from a pattern today. I've made my own, and due to being a) nerd b) left handed fool, c) having the technology I drew it on my computer and then cut it out on sticky backed vinyl on my er, vinyl cutter machine.

So while the normal people are cutting out bits of cardboard and glueing them on I can just peel and stick my vinyl. Great plan!

Great plan that doesn't quite work. As in there's me and the teacher there (who tells me that's how pros do it), but no other students to impress with my big head.

It is rather worrying actually, as there are three students total. The other two are friends, Sue and Marilyn. Sue be on holiday this week, so it would appear Marilyn hasn't turned up 'cos of this. Next week the reverse is true. Oh well, I get to be two weeks in front of them then.

It was still fun as I got to make things, and didn't get glass stuck in my fingers once. No photo as it's nowhere near finished yet. Yay!

Say hello, wave goodbye

I was reading some blurb on the bbc news website about http://www.rentafriend.com/

Hmmmm. Join the website, and you can then pay people to be friends with you. Sounds awful. But at the same time is attractive when you're a gimp like me who has spare money and a lack of (real life) friends. Meet new people, do exciting new things.

Of course I won't join it, as it would be too dangerous. In a way I imagine it's like drugs or prostitution, I can see that if I got involved it could easily spiral out of control and ruin my life. Friends that want to do whatever you would like, when you like, where you like. It's big and scary when you're used to "friends" that want their pc fixed and then you don't hear from for weeks until next time you're useful.

Lazy blogging time. Yet another one I've not heard for ages, but appeared on the radio. Wednesday night is 80's night, and they play some classic stuff.

I bring to you:
Soft Cell - Say hello, wave goodbye.



I never knew you, you never knew me... say hello, wave goodbye. Electric spine tingling stuff. Unless you're a jellyfish.

Excitement. Adventure.

Or a close approximation.
I went to the stained glass course. And it was almost fun!

First the nice lady told us this is a stick of lead solder, and all about how it may not do you a lot of good, but it prolly won't kill you if wear gloves when handling and be careful. Pffft! thinks I. I care not a jot about a mere bit of potential lead poisoning. I'm exposed to so many toxic things on a daily basis that I'm sure to be dead by 60. So who cares if it becomes 59 instead?

I then proceeded to do the lead melting and tinning my copper foil thing. I had a slight advantage over the other students, as in my day job burning the hell out of my fingers is a common occurrence. So while they're going ow! and dropping things I just ignore the pain and carefully put my stuff down.

Next task is to stick the component parts together. Which I do, but my parts don't actually look that good. Should have taken more care in the drawing part of the game earlier.

But I've made something. Me! Me, who doesn't do craft things due to being flid handed. Yay! I'm almost pleased.

Self control

Ok, who stole this week?

I've been chasing trying to catch up with work, not made it and now another week's gone as well. Urgh.

Oh well. Onto the lazy blogging.
I bring to you:
Laura Branigan - Self Control



Poor dead Laura Branigan. Brain aneurysm trivia fans. Not very rock n roll, but a death I'd go for as long as I was one of the lucky ones who gets no symptoms other than suddenly being very deado. I wouldn't be that lucky though.

Er, moving on from death.... I've always been a big fan of this track. The video is pants (phantom of the opera...? Que?), but it's a 7 inch I could (and did) play again n again. 1984.. a very good vintage year.

skerrrrKKKKKK

That's the sound of me cutting glass. Though thinking about it I'm missing out on the chance for a lazy blog of a certain Nick Lowe song.

Yes, dear reader, I made it to the stained glass class. And it went surprisingly well! Apart from the bits that didn't work.

Class starts at 12:15pm, so I strolled in the door at 12:10. To find lots of people packing up sheets of glass and walking out. Did I miss it? Confusion reigns, until I find out these are the "advanced" class and they're going home.

I then discover beginners class has a grand total of 3 people on it. Moi & 2 peeps who are friends. Hmmm, no need to be embarrassed in front of lots of people then. But also lots of attention as there be not many people to put the spotlight on. Despite only having to remember 3 names I struggle.

Within 5 minutes the class becomes very hands on. Here's a cutter, here's a chunk of glass, watch this then you have a go. Surprisingly I'm not that bad at at. Possibly because I'm too busy being scared of the people to have any fear left for cuts, glass exploding into shards and other related fears.

It then went a bit silly. Here is a rectangle of glass. Draw a leaf shape on it, and then cut it out like this. I am sinister, so picked up the pen and drew a really wonky awful leaf. I can't draw to save my life. But swap the pen for a glass cutter, and I can follow my wonky line perfectly. The only way I can rationalise it is I've spent many years following lines cutting things out on metal, but no years drawing 'cos I know I'm no good at it.

I also did well on using the grinder, especially after mrs. Teacher demonstrates that its' not possible to grind your fingers with it. I've very used to using grinders that will take your fingerprints off in about 0.7 seconds so this was easy!

All in all, it was quite good fun! And I'm making things, and almost interacting. Yay me!

********
Of course there has to be rain after sun. This is the way of life.... till the world be done...

Sunday is "my" car club's annual show. I turn up, do nothing, talk to no one, mooch around for hours and promptly bugger off home again. I think it's time to admit failure on this one and stop going. Especially as I've not had the right kind of car for 4 years now. EPIC FAIL...

There can be

no understanding between the hands and the brain unless the heart acts as mediator.

There! I've just spoiled metropolis for you. For that be the climax of the film. However, as they put this in the opening credits you wouldn't be spoiled for long if you didn't know, like.

Rewind back to the start, and my adventures in knowing this. Aka wipe off the rabid foam and start again.

Step 1) Walk to town. Slowly, carefully, not panicking and running. Score 7 /10.

2) A return train ticket to teh big scary city plz my man... Followed 35 seconds later by the same man announcing the train is delayed. Bugger. Engage checking watch every 23 seconds. Score 3 /10.

3) Arrive in BSC. I can see the cinema from train station. No need to panic about finding it then.. Engage in "bigging up" I can do this thoughts.
Walk inside, and find my confidence has gone on a skiing holiday at short notice. Fortunately retained enough control not to run away. Pretend to read poster on wall while I get it back together.
Fall back on plan B... Wait for another punter to arrive, and follow them. Thus you know what the expected interaction is before you have to er, interact it. Ok, it's a cop out, but better than running. Score 4 /10.

4) Go to cinema 3. Which contains 10 people. Threat level, minimal. I could almost blend in with said persons. As they be not talking this is very easy. Study cinema. Despite it's arthouse "upmarket" image (All members of staff have a fine museum curator grade beard), it's seen better days. You would think at £3.50 for a small bottle of beer they could afford some paint. Good job I don't drink.

2pm. Trailers start. For arty nonsense I won't be seeing.
2:20pm. Film starts. I've seen said film before, but the quality of said 'new' version is unbelievable. Except they've left the 'extra' 25 minutes of additional footage in "unrestored" condition, to give you a clue where the extra bits are. It must be said I didn't think they added that much. Certainly not the miracle transformation the hype promises.
4:5opm. Film ends. No intermission. No ice cream. Arthouse sucks! I feel the urge to visit the little boys room fast.

I did have a vague notion that possibly I could talk to other people about the said film we had just collectively viewed. I have carefully formulated a viewpoint. Sadly this does not occur as everyone else runs for the toilet, and you can't discuss film while doing so.

5:20pm. Share small space with my fellow man on yet another late crowded train. Teh end...

***************
So I could have done better.... but I could have done worse.

There is of course a much bigger test for Friday. Friday being day 1) of the beginners stained glass course. Terror at defcon 1... interact with people, and do arty things simultaneously. Genius or insanity awaits!

Here I go again

I's not done the blog thing this week. Nothing remotely exciting happening.

But Thursday will be fun. Last chance to see metropolis. I've been 50% putting it off 'cos I'm scared and 50% 'cos the annoying work has got in the way. But I'm going to do it, I'm resolved, so sure that counts for something? Maybe a little? 1/2 a point?

Anyway, on with the lazy blogging:

Whitesnake - here I go again.


I'm sure you'll agree, one of the finer big hair moments of the 80's... If I had big hair, and could actually play guitar I'd want to be one of these guys. Get off my jag though luv!

We have a winner

it's me. Woo. Yay.

Cheque this morning for £25 from premium bonds.

However this does not count as a win in the "I want to win something" scheme of things, as to win the £25 I have £3000 'invested' in premium bonds. And to be a legitimate win it must cost me nothing.

Still, a better start to the day than most.

Waste

of a week. Mostly thanks to Idiot Girl.

Monday was lost to the whole 'no water in car' incident.

Tuesday she can't possibly have the car looked at 'cos she's so busy at work, and can't take my car on Tuesday. She must make a good impression at work 'cos they're 'downsizing' and she doesn't want to be the one to take a bullet in 'Nam. That would be why she turns up here at 3:30 pm.
Er, what happened to the working hard, big meeting thing?
"I told them to F*** off."
Nice. Well done IG. They're sure to decide you're essential staff.

Wednesday IG graciously decides she can do without her (potential grenade) car for 1.5 hours, so I can get up 4 hours early and take it to the garage, but must return it before it turns into a pumpkin. Garage can't find the fault in the time available.

So now I'm a) tired, and b) behind on my own work. Fortunately I can slightly change my plans, and put my goals on hold.
Cinema trip can be postponed as said film has gained an extra weeks run. Otherwise it would have been a choice between the job & improving teh mentals, and job would have won.

Lazy blogging time:
Strawberry Switchblade - Jolene


Null points for knowing who this is a cover of.

They are of course perhaps better known for "since yesterday". But I like this one, so am inflicting it on you.

If you're really bored find the 12" of "since yesterday". It's very funky.

It's a test

designed to provoke an emotional response spot the idiots.

Or an idiot girl story.

IG has a car. A faulty car. There is a leak on the engine coolant, so you have to keep adding more water every week or you will kill it. (Because she's too tight to have it fixed).

Today IG comes out of the house, hello flowers, hello trees, chizz chizz. Opens the bonnet and pours in the water. 0.7 seconds later the very same water appears underneath the car on the floor. Confused IG adds even more water with the same result.

Pretend you are IG (It's permissible to hit yourself round the head several times with a heavy object).

Do you:
a) Carefully take note of where the leak is. Put the keys back, walk 200 yards to my house and borrow my car?
or
b) Close the bonnet. Drive to work with no water in the car engine?

I'm sorry, but there is no prize for guessing she chose option b).

I am informed of this shortly afterwards, so phone her. IG, pour as much water in as you can and come home very carefully, and take my car or you will kill it. IG thanks me by pouring forth a torrent of abuse and obscenities. She cannot do that and must drive it 50 miles today and if it blows up it does.

Eventually I manage to convince the genius not to be so sodding stupid. The entertainment doesn't end though, as on her return it no longer leaks. A magic leak. So I do the only thing possible, and book it in the garage for professionals to check it and fix it. Of course I'm wrong to do so as she needs to drive 300 miles that day and can't drive my car, she wants to blow up her car 150 miles from home.

*sigh* Why do I even bother?

Lion face. Lemon Face.

Plz to observe:


Oh look, I've filled big bits of the screen already. Now to yap about the weekend.

Lion face: hah!
Or the things that I got right.

I'm signed up to the "stained glass beginners" course. I went to enrolment (avec Ma Ma), but did it myself. "Ma Ma, sit there and don't say anything unless I've been stuck in handling it for five full minutes."

It was easy...
Tell me about this course plz?
It's a beginners course in stained glass on Fridays. Er, that's all I know. Do you want to do it?
Ok.
Fill in this form.

So maybe I should have tried a bit harder in getting more information, but a) it only cost £5 and b) the course itself isn't important. It's the terror of going and interacting with people.

Lemon face: oooh!
The fail bits.

Empowered by the sign up process, I took Ma Ma, and we went to the heritage open day at the forge. I last went there about 15 years ago, so should be interesting to see what's changed. Answer, not a lot. Methinks they just don't have the money.

The fail is, Ma Ma took over. I'm supposed to be interacting, and do not as she answers the questions before I've had time to think. True, I should have perhaps devised a subtle signal for her to shut the hell up, but I'd have thought earlier talk about being on a quest to interact and let me do it would have been remembered. Could have been worse.

So now I've "just" got the cinema challenge to do this week. Then I can either give up as a total failure, or start thinking of more terror challenges. I'm almost optimistic. Well, as close as I get to.

Adverse reaction

Oh dear. It's worse than I thought.

After planning the 'visit cinema' task, I felt that I should plan some more blood curdling terror human interaction experiences. But what?

Then the free 'newspaper' arrived, and the answer. A leaflet for "family and community" courses. That I can do for £5. I'll do a course! Meet people, learn to hate them, that sort of thing.

But which exciting thing to do? Oh dear... it's a bit of a thin choice list. Sign language, no. Cake decorating, no. Ankle biters, definite no. Stained glasswork? That's different... it'll do. Slight snag, no actual details, just the instruction to pop in and visit our centre for details. Niet problemski, I'm going to town with Ma Ma, it's on the way back.

Wrong. Wrong to N decimal places. Drove back, got to within 200 yards, couldn't do it. Worst panic I've had in 2 years, I just could not go left. Ma Ma makes it worse by asking why we're not going, and I come out with about 5 (rubbish) reasons. She doesn't get the hint that I'm going mentals again, and proceeds to make me feel really awful and pathetic.

Still, full ahead and trust in the Lord. I may have another go at it tomorrow. And if it doesn't work I've got my sights set on another day out interacting on Saturday. I can't fail at everything (I hope).

Tubetastic Thursday: Chance

Thursday already. For some reason Thursday is always the day idiots crawl out of the woodwork.

Sold: Ball for land rover defender.
Me: What colour would you like?
Them: It's for a land cruiser.
Me: Argh! Fx: Brain explodes.

The word land is in both items. That's the only thing in common. And of course because I don't know what spec the land cruiser is, and they don't either, it must be my fault. Never their fault.

Also been Idiot Girl'd. Idiot Girl hears a noise... and instantly identifies it's a rat in her loft. I am commanded to go and check for presence of said rat. No... no to 10 decimal places. I have better ways to waste my time than look for imaginary noises.
Put a trap there IG.. if it goes bang! you had a rat. (This does not apply if simultaneously your fingers are hurting). If it does nothing then you made it up yet again.

I'm still planning my assault on precinct 9 visit to the cinema. Is it cheating to calculate when it's most likely to have less people there and go then?

I bring to you:
Big country - chance


I heard this on the radio earlier, and had totally forgotten about it up 'till then. In fact I had to use the magic phone song identifying thing to find out what it was.

It's been stuck in my head since, so it's only fair that I share the earworm.

Challenge C'riz

Preamble: Or recent history of C'riz

As should be fairly obvious, I've got a history of teh mentals. I haz social anxiety disorder.
Or to blag a bit from wikipedia:

Social anxiety disorder is a persistent fear of one or more situations in which the person is exposed to possible scrutiny by others and fears that he or she may do something or act in a way that will be humiliating or embarrassing. It exceeds normal "shyness" as it leads to excessive social avoidance and substantial social or occupational impairment. Feared activities may include almost any type of social interaction, especially small groups, dating, parties, talking to strangers, restaurants, etc. Possible physical symptoms include "mind going blank", fast heartbeat, blushing, stomach ache, nausea and gagging. Cognitive distortions are a hallmark, and learned about in CBT (cognitive-behavioral therapy). Thoughts are often self-defeating and inaccurate.

Rewind a few years and I did nothing. My only interaction with the real world was via a keyboard. Then I got shrinked (above noted CBT), and things where right with the world. La la la, I'm cured!

Except.. you never are cured. All you've done is learned how to act in a different way to counteract your problems. Your fundamental nature isn't changed, instead you are relying on techniques to make life possible.

The problem is, I'm noticing a return to old habits. Magnifying failures instead of forgetting about them and moving on. Doing less things. Taking less risks. Shopping at 11pm when it's me and the shelf filling monkeys. It would be so easy to withdraw from the hard world, and pretend I'm happy doing it.

When I was being shrinked, I found it helpful to "go on a mission". Plan something terrifying, and go and do it. In many ways I've not stopped doing this. The visits to Misty land where big and important journeys into the unknown.

Now I need something smaller, as I'm not up to the big challenges. And I have it.... I will go to the cinema. To see the "slightly longer" new version of metropolis.

This be not as easy as it sounds.
1) Limited release. So I will have to go to the big bad city on a scary train full of scary people to see it.

2) Art house cinema. I know the rules for 'normal' cinema. I don't for art house... and not knowing the rules is my worst fear.

How do I dress?
Who are the other people there? No doubt they're going to be from a "better" social class.
Can I hold it together for a film with over 2 hours runtime?

If I think about it I can come up with a thousand ways in which this is a bad idea. Which of course is why I must do it. But any hot tips from clever people would of course be appreciated.

Suggest me up

I's noticed my blog roll thingy over there >>>>

be looking a little on the sad. As in full of people who I once loved to read, but appear to have stopped doing the blog thing. If it wasn't for ms. R. Mamblings, and the various projects of S. Duck it would grind to a total halt.

So... please to suggest me up some new blogs.

Ps... I may have an announcement tomorrow. But if I announce it I may then have to do it, and it scares me silly. So only may...

POIDH

Just remembered, I owe you a POIDH.

So here's Idiot Girl with the offending kite. Note the special out of control holding technique. Note the pointyness of the kite. Note proximity of IG to my good self.



Kersplat over with.....

IG has been making life difficult today as well. IG's house insurance is due. Ok IG.. go and join quidco, buy insurance via the link on their website and get cash back. Kerching, money saved!

Simples, no?

No. Ma Ma returns from IG's house, and is all shouty at me. Mumbling something about a code, and has IG got a discount or not? Tried to explain calmly that if she's followed the uber simple instructions then yes she has... if she hasn't then no she won't. Did she follow the instructions?

Apparently I'm not helping. Oh, excuse me while I rewind time so I can supervise her doing what any 3 year old would be capable of.

And relax.

Thursday already?
I bring to you:
Justin Hayward - forever autumn.



This be of course from war of the worlds.

I used to ( and still do) absolutely love the album, and could spend days listening to it. One of the big downsides of going to cd's is the booklet you got with the LP's looks very poor when shrunk to cd case size. Hmm, showing my age there.

IG hates war of the worlds, so it's always on my usb stick just in case she's in my car.

Forever autumn has been stuck in my head all day, as a) it's turning into autumn fast with leaves falling, and b) that blogger who I said I wouldn't allow to make me sad any more is doing. I so need to go out and find real world friends. Maybe next year...

Kylie

Plz to observe this Stock, Aitken & Waterman production:



Now I know what you're thinking.

a) It's not lazy blogging day C'riz.
b) Argh!

But none of the above are the point to this post. The theme if you didn't catch it is "I should be so lucky". For I have a new exciting quest to waste my days on. I'm going to find out how lucky I am.

This is actually a repeat experiment, but I last ran it in 2006, so it could be worth a rerun. I'm going to attempt to win things on the interweb. Enter lots of competitions until I win something exciting*
Last time it worked out at one prize every 6 weeks. I got bored before I won anything big though.

Wish me luck!

*Previous winnings: dvds, book token, toothbrush, inflatable donkey. Woo!

My Holiday

by C'riz, class 2B.

Today was the day. Loaded up the disco with Ma Ma, Idiot Girl et Sasha le dog. Off we trundled towards Scarborough, which is approx 2 hours & 90 miles that way. (points north east).

But first lets go to Filey, for they have a section of beach where you can take your dog. Dumped my 4x4 in a disabled space, and then promptly made everyone think "what a faker", when a volvo tried to park behind me, so I pushed my disco forwards a foot so he could get in. Ma Ma is the disabled one, but they don't know that.

Walked onto beach, via the ice cream shop as Idiot Girl is one of the people that sees ice cream and must have. Sasha a) goes nutso running about b) discovers what waves are (and doesn't like them) & c) lets several other dogs steal her ball.

A small break for feeding time at the zoo, a visit to the arcade for me, more beach for the dog, and then it's on to the main event in Scarborough. We arrive for the model navel warfare. Despite having a commentator that needed to learn when to shut the hell up it went rather well. Apart from dogs don't like things that go bang.

What else shall we do? Hmmm. A walk that way. That way being the new and shiny park. It was very nice, but I actually liked it more before in it's ruined splendour. But I'm strange like that.

Let's go fly a kite. Up to the highest height. And send it soaring. Er. no. Minutes of entertainment spent deciphering the chinglish instructions. Ok, Idiot Girl, you have control of the lines, I have hold of the kite. I will throw it into the air and you will fly it!

Oh dear, it's crashed. Repeat x 5.... But then success! Fly fly fly! I quickly grab my mobile and take a photo of the kite flying. I put it back in pocket, and the kite then arcs downwards. At a rather high velocity. Straight for me as it happens.... Blammo!

The plastic reinforcing pointy bit (stop me if I'm getting too technical) smacks straight into the bridge of my nose. I drop like a sack of spuds going argh! Man down! Medic! and other dramatic things. The dog at this point thinks it would be great fun to attack me as well, so I'm splat with a dog sat on my head. Marvellous. How we all laughed!

All the fun must end, so we trundle homewards. On the way back I can feel myself getting rather tired, so having no fear of death ask Idiot Girl if she would like to drive. I figure my car doesn't have long to live now, so what's the worse that can happen? We arrive back, and there's still 11 miles left before it hits 150,000 miles. So I may even get another week before it blows.

Final score: Apart from injury, a most successful day. Idiot Girl wasn't a PITA for a change. It didn't rain. And nobody tried to sneak take that's greatest hits into my cd player. Woo! Yay!

Tubetastic Thursday: Maria Magdalena

Thursday....

I bring to you:
Sandra - (I'll never be) Maria Magdalena



This made a remarkably poor #91 on the UK charts back in 1985. Which is rather surprising considering it's success in Europe.

It contains one of the essential 80's instruments, the guitar styleee keyboard. Whatever happened to them? Did keyboard players one day wake up and realise they're never going to be cool, and they should be happy to be stood at the back, and get the occasional closeup of them tinkling the ivories?

If you're thinking I can place the voice, but not the face, Sandra was at one point mrs. Cretu. In case you're still thinking eh???, think "Enigma".

I doubt I'll ever be Maria Magdalena either. But I can dream....

*************

In unrelated, wish me luck, for on the morrow I depart with Ma Ma, Idiot Girl & Sasha le dog for Scarborough. Excitement, adventure, and random shouting when IG doesn't get her own way are sure to follow.

Selfish

It's either me or Idiot Girl. And I'm voting for Idiot Girl.

Last year Ma Ma and myself didn't go on holiday. This was due to the whole Idiot Girl tries to remove her foot via the medium of horse accident, so we can be her personal slaves while she puts her foot up. Understandable.

This year, well, we're going nowhere again. Idiot Girl now sort of functions, and is back working, driving cars, doing stupid things with horses, the usual crap. We're going nowhere as we are now Idiot Girl's very own personal dog sitters. So no holiday for us, as who will look after Idiot Girl's dog?

After a comment on the weekend, it was very hard not to want to give her a good kicking. We went shopping for 1.0 earth hours. At the same time IG wanted her dog looking after so she can go do something mind numbing with her homies. She phones up bitching, and I quote "I only get two days off a week".

I am self employed. Other self employed slaves will also no doubt struggle to remember when they last had two consecutive days off. I think mine was in May.

It's made more annoying, as she doesn't get 2 days a week off... It's more like 2 days a week ON. If you add up how much time she skives with "flexi time", "working from home", "visiting a client" and the other scams she uses to avoid actually going and doing work.

So, no holiday as we are dog owners apart from the odd few hours when she actually wants the dog to go do moronic things with her friends with dogs.

It then came to my attention that summer is rapidly running out. If I can't have a week, I can have a full day, and go see something? Surely this is not too much to ask? I even know what... Oh Ma Ma, would you care to accompany me for a day at the seaside? There will be excitement, adventure, and people pretending to be warships in a lake.

You guessed it, yes we can go, but it must be a day when we can take Idiot Girl + dog, or we can take the dog on our own. IG has somehow managed to find yet another day off work, so looks like it's her too. I half wish I wasn't going, as it's going to be a long day. Dog = can't go inside anywhere, or on the beach, or well, just about anything really. I've got nothing against the dog, but it would be nice to have a day where it isn't just dumped on us.

Cake

"I've bought you a cake" sayeth the Ma.

"Oh. Er, what kind of cake?"

"A chocolate one. Look!"

I looked. It is indeed a cake. A chocolate one. A chocolate one with icing. A balloon and the words "happy birthday".

"Er, it's not my birthday????"

"I know. But they where £1.50 on mad Jack's stall on the market".

I've not enquired why Jack is mad. Or if this is related to him having a job lot of cheap birthday cakes. Sometimes it's best not to know. Plus I can pretend I'm the Queen with two birthdays per year. Even if I didn't get cake on my real birthday.

Tubetastic Thursday: Voyage Voyage

Urgh.... The day job gets to me sometimes.

I have an idiot who has bought an item that is custom made to their specifications. Problem #1.. they can't be bothered to tell me their specifications. So I've been emailing them every freaking day for a week.. no reply.

Until today. Message from idiot... I don't have my item! rant rave! As usual it's my fault that I can't remotely read their tiny little mind. And no, I still don't know what they want. It will prolly take them making several threats & more complaints before I get it thru their thick heads that they are the source of the hold up.

And of course there's the usual round of "I've bought 2 items, give me a discount!". No.... 2 items is not a trade / bulk / wholesale / discountable amount.

And relax.....

Lazy blogging time. I bring to you:
Desireless - voyage voyage.



The astute will have noticed that this is in fact in French. It made #5 here in the UK. Bizarrely the same year Vanessa Paradis also did well with "Joe le taxi". French pop songs where in, for five whole minutes.

At the time I was in skool. And le teacher had the bright idea of livening up yet another dull french class by having us all attempt to write our own french pop songs. It was awful. I can't remember much else, as my brain has blocked it out for my own protection. There's a big sign that says "Awful. Ask not!"

I got a grade C in French GCSE. Technically this classes as a win, and not a thicky gimp. I got a grade D in English, which is full of fail.

Shame I can't remember much about the rules of either language now. And the Spanish I did for 2 years has faded even more.
Not that it would have done much good, as all it prepared you for was the ability to get a return train ticket to La Rochelle, purchase a croque monsieur, shout ZUT! if you burned your fingers and then bugger off home.