Not "Elementary" to me!

Note to self:
(And YES I am incredibly this stupid!)

Just watching an episode of "Elementary" ( a US copy of "Sherlock Holmes") not too bad do far, ANYHOW.... (I digress sometimes)

They're in a hospital and "Watson" (a woman in this case) just did a strange test on a coma patient, where she held the patients hand over her face and let go, surprise surprise, the hand hit her square in the face..
Now, I must have missed the "test" point as it seemed obvious to this "layman"

So.... (Apologies for the delay)
I lay on my back, held up my arm, and let it go limp..

SMACK!!

Yes, it does (hit you in the face I mean) and yes it hurt, especially as my ring hit me on the bridge of the nose!

B@stard!

Doctor Who

Watched "Doctor Who" with the boy last night,

Every now and again the youngest would appear, watch 2 mins and then wander off back to "Scooby Doo"
Anyway this morning she's just relayed to the wife that :

"we watched Doctor Poo last night, and it was all about Bad Garlic's"

Funny.. I don't remember any Vampires in there..?

Breakfast Juice

BLOODY HELL!!!

Note To Self:

When you get the breakfast juices out of the fridge for the squiddlers (that they will have used last yesterday morning when they made their own breakfast)

...CHECK the lid is on before shaking!!

Shut your eyes and open your mouth..

My wife of 9 years just approached me and uttered the phrase every newly incarcerated male convict must dread to hear..

"shut your eyes and open your mouth"

She then dropped a most offensive "fizzy sour jelly sweet" into my mouth.
Now, those of you that know me, know that i cant cope with 'sour' sweets; my face goes into a spasm,I get lock-jaw, and usually end up heaving whilst clenching my butt sphincter in a vain attempt not to "touch cloth"
(much like the aforementioned 'prisoner of cell block "H")

I shall be reminding her of said incident sometime soon!

B@stard & Sh*thead saved me

Well...
Despite the cats holding me responsible for them being "fixed" on Friday, it appears they are protecting me (I suspect they've decided that when I'm gonna be "got" it's them that will do the "getting")

Just been to the loo, in the dark (yep I survived without walking into something) and came out to find them scrapping over something.. Usually a little spider or something.. Now when I managed to pull them apart, I didn't find a spider (thankfully) but I found One spider leg... BIGGER THAN MINE!!
They saved me from one of my "Telly Tubby squealing sessions"

Good lads!

Turkish take-a-way

Having a drinking session on the drinking bench with the neighbours (me on the hard stuff, "Smirnoff Ice") that turned into a take-a-way session, however...

Note to self:
When you order a chicken kebab and ask the Turkish bloke for "just a little of the chilli sauce" you need to specify "the stuff that Fluffy Unicorns can cope with"

My gobs on fire and no doubt I'll have "an arse hole like a Japanese Flag" tomorrow...

Child's logic

Can't argue with a (girls) 4 year olds logic..
(bellowed down the stairs)

Maaaaaam.... What day is it today??
-Sunday!
Is it Wednesday tomorrow?
-No.. Monday!
Is it Friday then??
-No.. Tuesday!
Oh ok! I can paint my toenails then!

The Welsh Wanker, Killer Squirrels and Other Tales

So... let me first re-iterate that I like Wales, very much; as it happens the story of  "The Welsh Wanker"  is only one of the mis-adventures that I happened to come across (for want of a better word) whilst working for a firm, way back in the later 90's, and such tales are to follow:


"The Welsh Wanker"


So... as said above, I worked for a firm, which involved me being sort of pimped out to the highest bidder, on development projects in and around the UK, places such as Camberley, Glasgow and Bristol and it was whilst being sent to these far flung places, that I'd either be put up in Hotels, Guesthouses or Rented houses; Now more often than not, if it was a rented house, you would obviously be put up with a number of house-mates, and depending on the order you came into the house, that basically decided which room you got.... I was in last (by minutes) and as such, got the shittest room.
My other 2 housemates, were an African bloke "Ngoku" (see below stories about "Shadow Boxing" and "Night Blindness") and a Welsh lad (who'd been there for months) and for anonymity, lets call him, oh I dunno... "Kevin"

So... what was Kevin's story?


He actually was the closest living to the rented house as we were in Bristol, however, he stayed at the house at weekends, and as myself and Ngoku lived far far away, we would often drive home on friday evenings and not return until late sunday nights, or sometimes the Monday mornings, leaving Kevin to basically violate every room in the house with his habitual "Masterbating"


...and when I say 'habitual' I mean, non-stop! from the evidence that would quite often be on display when I would return back to the house, usually on a dark and stormy sunday night, and this I worked out because the guy was basically constantly asleep, thankfully I never walked in to find him passed out on the couch, cock-in-hand, but I'm sure that was because I made a big deal of revving my engine when I pulled onto the drive. I learned quite quickly that giving him that few minutes notice that I would be arriving would suffice him to remove all traces (something that a CSI 'ultraviolet Black Light' would reveal as an aftermath scene from a Porno or Charlie Sheen's Bedroom)


I regularly walked in to find the living room carpet, littered with balls of toilet tissue clumped up like a snowballs on a snowy christmas evening...


It was liking into a Minefield.... A "Jizz" Minefield!


...very 'cheap' Executive relief magazines spread across every part of the couch, and numerous 70's video magazines (you know the sort, with the good bits all blurry from being paused too many times!? No?!)


One particular morning, when we got up, I did my usual mother-hen, walking around knocking on the various bed-room doors, to make sure we were all up, as we rotated who drove to work (to save on our petrol, even though we were all claiming petrol expenses)
This particular morning, Kevin didn't answer?
I knocked again, and then returned after myself and Ngoku had been down to breakfast...

• Was he even in there?
• Had he gone out the night before, searching for Goats to Molest?
• Had he finally expelled too much of his bodily fluids and we were going to find him dead?

I put on my hazmat suit, shoe protectors, gloves, goggles and smog-mask, and turned the handle....


Oh for F*cks sake!


Kevin was passed out on his bed, THANKFULLY most of his quilt was across his loins, no doubt stuck there had he managed to stand up, and the scene from the living room had been re-played in his bedroom, I decided there and then, that 'should I?'  ever manage to be the last one in this house when the new arrivals land, that I will NOT be promoting myself up the hierarchy into this bedroom, I'd have to fumigate it first!


  
I've blocked the Toilet, and err... Flooded the Bathroom

This tale, again involves Kevin, and I was still in the smallest of the rooms, and this particular morning it was Kevin who did the knocking, but with the knock came a whimper...
Oh Crap???
has he haemorraged himself or worse case, actually pulled it off?
I opened the door, taking care to look at him, "head height" (and you know I mean the 'upper' head don't you!?) to find him actually welling up, very teary eyed and looking like a puppy.

"Sh*t Kevin.... whats up?"
"I've Blocked the Toilet..... and its flooding the bathroom!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!?!?"

I ran into the bathroom, to find water basically spilling over the rim of the toilet, and making one of those dark 'balloon' patterns in the carpet, as the water basically spreads...
I dashed to the toilet ("Splish... Splosh!") to find what appeared to be about a bucket full of toilet paper, rammed into the bottom (I can only imagine what that was all in there for), grabbed the toilet brush, and began Prodding at the mass of tissue, in a vein attempt to push it around the U-bend, which it thankfully did...
but imagine my surprise, upon turning to find 'Ngoku' there, wondering what this crazy Englishman was doing...

"Wheres Kevin?" I asked
"...He's just driven off" was his reply

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTT!?!?!" (sounds like an echo that doesn't it?)

Yes.. .the Welsh W@nker had not only blocked up the Loo, but had p*ssed off to work as well, leaving us to clean up his.... god knows what!


Night Blindness

'Ngoku' the African who lived in the house, was a wonderful man who had about 94 children, I commented to him once that perhaps he should get more televisions... he didn't understand what I meant?
...thankfully I never had to worry about finding him on the floor, passed out from topo much w@nking; however, the first night we all got together (he arrived minutes before I did, hence why he got a better bedroom than I (as mentioned in the below story about 'Shadow Boxing')
this particular night, we decided we'd go find a pub, have something to eat and get to know each other; as it happens, he was a non-drinker, and said he'd be the designated driver, which turned out to be worse than one of us driving p*ssed.
it soon came to light (for want of a better word) that Ngoku was a very, VERY bad driver, first of all he drove on the wrong side of the road, which I kind of understood as he was african, so pointing this out he laughed, and corrected me by saying he'd lived in England for a good few years... his constant swerving out from the gutter to avoid parked cars also kind of worried us (Kevin was quiet in the back seat, either bent down praying, or.... dare I say it, Masturbating again...)
turns out, once we got him, Ngoku explained that perhaps him driving in the dark wasn't such a good idea, as he had 'night blindness'???




Shadow Boxing


As I've said in earlier paragraphs, the bedrooms were dealt out in a hierarchical way, in that the longer you'd been in the house, the better bedroom you got (excluding Kevin's soiled room, that no-one wanted) and Ngoku, actually had the middle bedroom, which was really good, loads of sky-lights.
however, come bed-time, it sounded like he was moving all the furniture around, or decorating, and there were a couple of times, that myself and Kevin stood in the hall-way, looking at Ngoku's door, and noted the shadow's moving underneath it..?

Very strange, for one moment I actually considered if he was Shadow Boxing... and losing?
how could you lose at Shadow Boxing any-ways, but the noise, then sudden silence always did confuse us, until a couple of weeks later, when we could take no more, and we cornered him...


"Ngoku.... what on earth is it that you do in your room at night, it sounds like your moving the furniture around?"
"I am" was his reply, with a puzzled look..
"Why?"
"Because I need to pray, and I need to do it facing a certain direction... and the landlord said we wouldn't move anything around..."




Sid, the Serial Killer Squirrel



Still in Bristol, at the rented house, what I'd neglected to mention was that there was quite a bit of wild-life in and around where we were, and it turns out, we had a bit of a celebrity in the forest behind us, and that was "Sid.... the Serial Killer Squirrel"

It turns out, this "Squirrel" was a bit of a psychopath, and regularly would hide in the porch above the front door, and Drop onto door-knockers, I imagined him being like the "Rambo" of Squirrels, with a necklace of "Ears" from all his victims around his neck.

I only saw him once as it happens, and I must admit, his reputation did seem to have an element of truth.


It was a dark morning, I came downstairs, walked into the kitchen, switched on the lights, to that annoying BLINK-BLINK-BBBBBLINK-BLINK of the old-fashioned strip light to see him.... There, at the kitchen Window, literally with his arms spread wide, across the glass, glaring at me...


"JESUS CHRIST!" and then... he was gone!






Apologies, for nearly killing you!


Some time into the stay at this particular house in Bristol, Ngoku left us, turned out the Masters degree he had in computer engineering, he'd earned from the University of Kellogs, and he was invited to leave.
We got a replacement, an extremely 'geeky' Indian lad, I moved up the hierarchy, got the middle bedroom, and he got my old box room... Shitter! (for him anyway)
and as was the tradition, we went out to the local pub (turned out to be in the village of the damned as we got some strange looks on entering the pub, as I suspect it was a little like Emmerdale farm, and 3 'interlopers' invading)
now, at this time in my life, I discovered that I actually liked Beer (well Budweiser anyway, much I suppose like the trainer-bra of beers) and also CIGARS...


Holeeeeeee sh*t!!! I liked Cigars!!!!


so all that night, there we were drinking and smoking... well, me and Kevin anyways, it turned out that we'd again been assigned a non-drinker (and smoker) but not a complaint left his little mouth all night...


(Fast forward to the following morning, where neither myself or Kevin could remember what time or how we got home... or what the house across the road was doing with 3 "FOR SALE" signs in its front garden? we kept our eyes to the ground on leaving the house, much to the dismay of the local elderly population)


There I was in the kitchen for breakfast, Kevin arrived shortly afterwards, then we shouted to our new housemate.... and again.... and again....
hmmm..... up stairs we went, knocked.... knocked.... and knocked again...?
now... had it been Kevin, from past experience I knew not to walk into his room, for fear of treading in something nasty, but here, I felt no fear, opened the bedroom door, to find NO OCCUPANT?? his clothes were there, but no guest!?


looked outside and his car had gone too.... B@stard!
had we not explained the rota of car-sharing?


any-ways, off we set.. the two of us, and got to work... and he wasn't there either!?
WTF!?!?!


towards lunch, his line-manager collared me and asked where he was, we just didn't know?


later on that day, both myself and Kevin were asked into a meeting room as it was now known where he was....
I was 'sh*tting' myself... neither Kevin or myself could remember getting home... 

• had we left him tied to a lamppost? 
• had we sold him to passing Gypsy's?
• was he in the chest freezer in the garage (I did hope not, as that burst into flames earlier that week when I'd plugged it in... the sign on the freezer saying "out of order" should have given away that there was some reason it wasn't plugged in!)

Turns out, he was an asthmatic, and he'd had a severe attack in the night (or early hours) probably due to the amount of cigar and cigarette spoke he'd been exposed to in the "Woolpack" and not wanting to disturb us he'd gotten himself into his car to go to the hospital, he'd gotten lost, flagged down a passing motorist who'd called an ambulance, and he'd been taken to a hospital in Bristol!?


he never did come back, and we never got to apologise either...!




Mobile Phones don't Float


As I've said earlier in this Tale, basically working for this company, you were pimped out to various development teams, around the UK, and it fell on me to head off upto Glasgow to oversee the implementation of the Bespoke we'd been developing in Bristol.


I'd never been to Glasgow, and someone should have explained to this un-educated yokel that its "B@stard Cold" up there! especially in October/November.
within hours of my first day, I hot footed it out to the nearest store (thankfully I was in the centre) and bought myself a long, wool coat!


Anyway, getting back to the tale in hand, the building I was in was an old Converted bank, so massive and open plan, with no sub-floors... the reason I mention it was that 'any sound' whatsoever, echoed like you were in the 'Albert Hall'
At this time, I'd taken to wearing waist coats (I;d not been drinking beer long enough to develop my 'middle aged spread' so was still able to fasten them. The advantage of these was that you had a couple of extra pockets, and at this time I had one of those bloody stupid Nokia's that were too small to type on, never mind see... but they were cool, and could discreetly fit into the pocket on the waist-coat.
someway through the day, I needed to Piss... now what I haven't told you was (and my wife needs to skip this section) is that this particular 'friendly' building society, had a penchant for employing STUNNINGLY attractive women, they were everywhere, and the toilets, were kind of exposed as just a door off the main open plan void, so you couldn't exactly discreetly go into one for a long-Shit, cos.... they'd know that you'd been in there for ages... thankfully, All I needed was a Piss, and my pathetic Bladder Shyness (something you'll have to read in one of my other Blog stories) wouldn't be tooooo much of an issue, as long as it was a big toilet, with lots of cubicles...


In I went, and Thank God, MASSIVE.. and loads of cubicles!


I went in, did my business, and rather cockily (no doubt cos I was pleased I'd been able to piss within 40 feet of another human being) ZIPPED Up my fly, which unfortunately (as I did it at speed) knocked the mobile phone, up and out of my waist-coat pocket, where it spun, in slow motion, for a couple of nano-seconds, then did a nose-dive.... 


straight.... down.... into.... the.... toilet....        
  

"KA...PLUNK!"

"OH CRAP!"                     I shouted...



There it was, air bubbles coming up.... my phone, drowned... and in PISS!


there's a moment in every persons life, where they have to stick there hand into a 'soiled' toilet.... you've all had to do it, and this was it for me... hmmmmm (Heavy Sigh)




in went the hand, Ninja style, quick grab, lots of dancing on the spot like a girl (I had Piss on my hands after all)


out of the cubicle I dashed, broke open all the parts of the phone, back, battery, sim, then loads and loads of tissue, dabbing.... wiping... "sniffing" wiping some more


now... what do I do, every angle I turn the phone at, something 'leaks' out... "GARGH!"


there it was, the hot-hand dryer..... that'll do nicely, so 5 minutes later, all parts dried, and re-assembled (like a sniper rifle!)

I pressed the button, and "TWIP.. .BEEP.... BRRRR" off it went again... SHIT!

it was well knackered....

< heavy sigh again > and it dawned on me that perhaps I needed to give it some time, so lets go back to my desk and wait....

out into the 'void' I went to be faced with large groups of women all staring at me, it was like they were waiting for the 'Diet-Coke' delivery guy to arrive, but... .not!

on skulking back to my desk, I was informed that I'd been in the toilet some 20 minutes, and pretty much EVERY noise made, had been BOOMED out into the room, no doubt they all thought I'd had an accident in there and was cleaning myself up...

(c) SparkysDiary.com

B@stard & Sh1thead - 4th. July 2012

Further installment of "Bastard & Shithead"
(I know you've been waiting for this)

Pretty much a rerun of last weeks mauling by the 'Ginger Bastard'

Same couch, same stretched out sacrificial offering of my ankle; this time the little sod, jumped to avoid the other one, and rather cockily just dug one set of claws into my ankle, and then just SWUNG like Tarzan.. Or was it a Pendulum?

...fortunately, I only felt a couple of seconds of searing pain before Blacking Out!

B@stard & Sh1thead - 29th. June 2012

So.... this will be the first of many postings about the 2 little Kittens from Hell we've acquired, affectionately named "Bastard & Shithead"

Jesus Christ good god almighty!!

I'm laid out on the couch, swigging coke (that'll make me piss like a horse later) and chuffing on a bag of mini flapjacks that our wonderful neighbour dropped by, and "B@stard" (the ginger kitten) decided to launch itself off the floor into the couch, but using the skin in my foot as a ladder..

I nearly swallowed by bloody tongue!Publish Post

Toilet Incident 6th. July 2012

Can I not have a day off?!

Those of you who know me, will know that I occasionally have incidents of getting stuck in toilet cubicles; the most recent (before now) where I got locked in the outside toilet at the Robin hood museum in Sherwood forest, when the handle on the inside came off, and I had to wait until someone came in, to be assisted.. Turned out to be a little boy on that occasion, which was wrong on so many levels...

Anyways...

Here I am at that 'Sunny Travelly Place" in Preston (Customer Site)
On my way out to lunch, I decided I'd take a pee break, and entered the cubicle to suddenly come to a Complete Stop as I got myself wedged between the big, shiny, sticky out toilet roll dispenser and the inward opening door.

"hmm... what the Hell?"

I couldn't move forward or backward, my pockets had got caught on the door and I was stuck and flailing around like an eel on a riverbank as its being clubbed to death with a fluffy cushion!

So, calling on my Ex-Navy seal training, remembering how to cope if I ever got stuck in Quicksand, I resolved to Firstly getting back to being calm! (the squealing like a Telly Tubby wasn't doing me any favours with the occupants of the other cubicles)
I did a quick 'Sherlock Holmes' like scan of the cubicle, to assess the situation, and work out what would aid me in my escape; lots of mathematical equations started to flash into my view, and there it was...

I resorted to standing on one foot (ballerina like) flipping down the toilet seat with my shoe (which shall be incinerated later) standing on said toilet and lifting myself up (thankfully this cubical is on its own, as I have bladder shyness problems, something I'll write about some time) otherwise I'd no doubt have raised myself into the view of an indisposed toilet neighbour who's have no doubt screamed obscenities at me)

Voila... Houdini...

Just like in "The Great Escape", I legged it so as not to reveal my identity to the other fellow occupants!

Your M&S - Not Mine....

Tore the arm out of my favourite shirt today, I would say that it was during a "Hulk" moment, but.... It wasn't...

ANYWAY...

Decided I'd take the 4yr old to M&S tonight as an 'adventure' to get a replacement...

(THAT won't happen again!)

While I was briefly looking at (then Rapidly diverting past) the nice looking suits with nice looking prices (that had the most uncomfortable reaction of making my "Back-door" Slam Shut like a Scotsmans wallet) she kept appearing with even more expensive looking ties that apparently she seemed to think would be much more attractive to me if she pretended they were a dog lead and dragged them around the store...

"Holeeee Shit!" The look I got from the Sales assistants made me feel like I'd just walked in with a bus load of Pikeys on a 'GROUPON' Fuelled Shopping Trip!

Back to the Future

So...

Me & the Missus are watching TV for the first time this weekend, Uninterrupted. We've done the 'Parent thing' all weekend, Yada Yada Yada...
(they're back under the stairs where they belong, like Harry Potter)

They've been "Can I have?  I want!  Gimme!" all weekend and finally I cracked..
I've decided it's all the wife's fault, so I says to her:

"Remember that memorable day BEFORE the kids... BEFORE we were married, BEFORE we were Engaged, BEFORE we lived together....? where I said to you 'that I'd be late home and if you wanted go to mine before I got home then HERE was a front door key' I got into my car, blew a kiss And drove off, to work..?"

She put her phone down, uttered "Yesssss?" and frowned at me...

I had a quick glance at my route of escape from my couch to the door.. Yep I could definitely make it out before she could get to me..

"Well... 'love'... Picture this 'alternate' scenario..."

"....I just drive off!"

(this post would have been longer, but I'm finding it hard to type with the tip of my nose while sucking up my dinner through a straw!)

(c) SparkysDiary.com

Utterly Buttery Bollox from O2

Utterly Preposterous Bollox of the Day:

Rang O2 to complain about the "excess data usage" alerts on my moms iphone, 400mb (80%) in 10 days then remaining 100mb in 1 day...

After much ado about that she must have lots of game apps (nope) must use Facebook alot (nope - she's 60) must be on Internet Explorer alot (doesn't exist on iPhone Dummy) to then finally give his O2 'support' consultants explanation of her usage as......

"If you don't sync with iTunes daily that's your problem"

If I could have dragged the Ass down the phone I would have!

Aw Dad?!

So the other night am Doin' the 3 'R's Homework with the boy (Readin, Ritin, Rithmatic) and he's havin some of his drink, when I decides (as the wife was out) I'll have one of my boozy ones...

(that, and He's tall enough to reach the pedals in the car should there be an incident in the home and he needs to take me to A&E!)

I go gets me one from the fridge, comes into the kitchen, and pops the cap off the bottle (without injuring myself), and takes a Swig....


(Lip Smacking) "AAAAAAaaaaa... that hits the spot!"

"Daaaaaaad...?"
"Yep Son...?"

"Why can't you drink Beer like other Dads!?"

Bad Kitty

Note to self:

When you find a Pink Glittery Tube with the "Hello Kitty" logo on it, and your youngest says 



"Daddy... It's Strawberry Lip Balm... Have some" and squeezes it onto your lips...

It's Not!

It's Glitter GLUE and tastes like Shit!!!

Well.. I didn't expect that Climbing?!

Am up in Stockport today with the Boy Indoor climbing; of course I'm not doing it, that would end in severe damage, to me and the climbing centre...
Anyway, as It's bloody freezing in here and I'm a soft arse, I've gone next door to the indoor play area with the youngest.
And a woman has just Wopped her Boob out opposite me to feed her baby...
Which was a surprise...
Its Not my birthday till next month!

:0)

Popped My Cork

Literally seconds into the New Year... I missed this but the wife popped the bottle of champagne on the front door, and the cork landed in the road and got run over by the only car on the street!!

This is an inner estate street, not a main road...

Can only happen to Us!