Too tired to type

Today at work’s been really hard, not just because I was knackered after a night of insomnia, but also because we were having a last big push to get rid of the Euro 2012 shit that’s been clogging up the shelves for four weeks.
The amount of unrelated tat that’s been emblazoned with the St George’s Cross just to cash in on England doing reasonably well is embarrassing. I shouldn’t be surprised though. It was the same a month ago with the Queen’s Jubilee and I’m sure it’ll be the same next month with the Olympics. People just get swept away in the emotion of these things and express that by falling for stupid supermarket advertising campaigns. Football fans definitely seem to be the most excessive with their expensive displays of support. Gary from the alcohol aisle told me they shifted 800% more lager on days that England played. Frightening from the point of view of the nation‘s health, but good for his revenue-related monthly bonus.
I’ve been awful at the EuroMatch Prediction Game that Ted’s family started, by the way. I think I’m 14th in the league table or whatever the hell it’s called.  With no chance of winning I’ve gone ‘sod it’ and predicted that Italy will win the Final 7-0.


I shall leave you with my last haiku of the month of June:


The clouds drift by like
Cotton-wool balls in the sky
And I feel chirpy.


RC 30-6-12

2am haiku

I can’t sleep tonight
I have chronic stomach-ache
Caused by too much cheese


RC

The brighter the mind, the bigger the mistakes

Bloody hell it’s been hot today.
That may explain why this happened:
I was allowed to leave work at 3pm because I had an eye test booked. I’ve been having a few headaches and I’ve noticed that I get easily blinded by oncoming headlights when I’m driving at night, so I thought I’d better get my sight checked; especially as I’ve never had it done before and I’m now 28.
As with most things work-related, I ended up leaving ten minutes late, so I was in a bit of a rush and bombing TheLoveMachine along like a lime green tornado. In the back of my mind I had this naggly, niggling voice going “Something’s not right. Something is definitely wrong about all this” but I tried to ignore it, thinking it was just nerves about the eye test, or that silly “did I leave the door unlocked?” anxiety that we all get sometimes. 
Anyway, one minute after the time of my appointment I dumped the car in a car park and sprinted round to the front door….. at which point I realised I was standing outside my dentists.
“Ah, feck it” I said rather loudly.
The poor opticians (who were 21 miles North of me) must have been wondering why the hell I hadn’t shown up, while the dental receptionist looked at me like I was a lunatic. 
And no matter how much I asked, they refused to give me an eye test. 
No wonder the NHS is in trouble...

RC 28-6-12

Start with haiku; end with humour

June in the UK
Is just the same as Winter
I hate our climate

My bike is unused
Because our Summer is wet.
Wet, windy and shit.

I’m sure I write haiku like this every June don’t I? And probably every July, August and September as well. Stupid country.

Yesterday we went to a big party at Tom’s house. You remember Tom, don’t you? ‘The Wallpaper King Of North Norfolk’? My ex-boss? Philippa’s current boss, and uncle? Father of SIX children?
We had assumed it was a belated 2nd birthday party for little Summer, but it wasn’t. It was a ‘big surprise family announcement’ party. And the big announcement?
Tom is going to be a grandfather. His eldest daughter, Robson (who prefers to be called ‘Bobby’) is 21 and pregnant. Is it possible for any member of this family to have sex without it leading to a baby?
Tom made the big announcement with a tear in his eyes, and with his daughter and future son-in-law beside him. Bobby stood there with a beaming smile, glowing already despite being only two months gone, while her boyfriend wore the expression of someone who has recently been hit by a truck.
Later on I congratulated her and asked her if she’d picked out any names. She said “We’ve got two or three boys names that we’ll talk about, but if it’s a girl, she’ll definitely be Vanilla.”
Maybe there’s an ongoing family competition to see who can give their children the most ridiculous name. You’d think she’d have learnt from her own experience and not passed the pain of a bad moniker onto her children, but apparently not. We do, as a great philosopher once said, often re-tread the path that was worn by our parents, be it a good path or a bad one.
Robson’s boyfriend, by the way, is called Stephen Jonathan Child. So once they’re married and the baby is born, if she’s female her name will be VANILLA CHILD. Is it just me who thinks she’ll sound like a girl from a Bond film?

RC 24-6-12

Thought about people at Royal Ascot

I don’t know who these people are, or what kind of outdated class system they think they still live in, but they just all look so ****ing STUPID.

RC 21-6-12

Oops! and WHAT??

I made a big mistake at work today. Someone called in sick and we couldn‘t find anyone willing to come in and do their shift, so I had to do extra work to cover for them. It was a bit hectic this afternoon, so to save time, I asked someone else in my department to put through an order for me. My mistake was in asking someone who has the common sense and clear thinking of a wet sock. Whoever is in the cold store tomorrow is going to get a surprise - we’ve got three months supply of BioYoghurt arriving at 6am in the morning.


And speaking of surprises…Hannah has started singing with a band! Just when I think I’ve got her figured out and she can’t surprise me, she slaps me in the face with something new. Apparently someone was impressed by her singing in the show before Christmas and asked if she’d go along to a band practice. The idea was she would do backing vocals and harmonies but now she’s co-lead singer with another girl called Jessie (I think) Isn’t this bizarre? The guitarist is the one who approached her and he writes all their material. God knows if they’re any good, but I enjoyed seeing her on stage before, so I’ve said I’ll go along when they get their first gig. I also asked her if they need a drummer and she said “Maybe, if he’s good enough, which you’re not” 
Ouch, but fair enough…


RC 20-6-12

Trouble in Paradise

Philippa broke a vase in the kitchen today. She was cleaning the windows for the third time this week and knocked it into the sink with her elbow, and it smashed. She screamed as if she’d just been scalded, then burst into tears worrying that we’ve ruined the house and Becky and David are going to throw us out, and then sue us. Talk about an over-reaction. It’s not even a very nice vase. If anything, it looks much better in fourteen pieces than it did when it was standing on the windowsill. But Philippa is inconsolable. “They trusted us with their property!” she wailed “and now we’ve started destroying it!”
Matters weren’t helped when Becky phoned from Hong Kong ‘just to see how things were going.’ The timing seemed a bit coincidental so I am now once again convinced that they’re spying on us electronically from Asia..
Philippa fought back the urge to confess and instead asked Becky how it’s all going over there. The answer was ‘not too well’
Apparently, their accommodation is pretty small and in a very built-up area of town. David’s work hours are longer than he expected them to be and Becky is ‘missing her pilates class’ Hard life, eh? They are, after all, in Hong Kong now, away from the shitty British weather. Some people are never happy, are they?
I hope they don’t cut their contract short and come back early. Not until we’ve found a replacement vase for the kitchen, anyway.

RC 19-6-12

Return of an old friend

Yesterday, by coincidence, my blog entry was exactly 250 words long. If you’ve been with me for a while, you’ll know that I got a bit obsessive a couple of years ago and made ALL my blogs exactly that length. I’m pleased to say I got out of that habit, but I’ve decided to bring it back this week, just by way of a challenge!

Ted and Beryl were on good form tonight. Ted was his usual catty, witty self and Beryl had made enough food for an Army.
We’re going back round again tomorrow, to watch the England game. I don’t care if they qualify, I just want them to win 3-1 so I get full points in our prediction game. That game, by the way, has become my latest obsession. I spend every spare moment reading up about the players and trying to work out the likely score. The more I read and research, the more I realise these two things: football is a really stupid sport, and the people on TV who are paid to analyse it really haven’t got a clue what they’re talking about… I’m sure Alan Hansen has his virtues, but I don’t see the sense in having him as the main analyst for the England matches when he’s a Scotsman who hasn’t played the game for twenty years. But what do I know? To me, Gary Lineker has the presenting talents of a daffodil but the BBC still use him, so who knows….??

RC 18-6-12

2012's 100th blog...

Bloody hell, it’s been a good weekend.
Today, though, I nearly had a heart attack.
As it’s Father’s Day, Philippa got me a cute little card from ‘our future children.’ It’s a really lovely gesture but when I first opened it I shit myself thinking she was telling me she’s pregnant.
Bless her.
She’s in a better mood because her ankle is feeling much better. She’s had a few doses of acupuncture and it’s really made a difference. I had a look at the website of her acupuncturist, expecting to see a picture of a small Chinese gentleman, and was startled to see a rather dazzling hunk. My old friend Jealousy popped up for a while, but then I noticed under ‘Personal Info’ on his website that it said “He lives in the City with his partner Josh and their pet poodles Danny and Sandy” so I feel all right now.
We took her dad out for a meal this evening. It was a bit strained as they don’t really get on very well, but everyone was pleasant to everyone else, and I absolutely stuffed myself with red wine and lasagne.
Tomorrow night we’re seeing Ted and Beryl for the first time in a while. I’m looking forward to it, as I’ve missed his grumpy face and sideways compliments. I think all his many offspring have been round today for a surprise Dad’s Day visit, so he’ll either be overcome with emotion or angry and sick to death of them.

RC 17-6-12

"The Dark Bastard" - an ode

I should be happy
I’ve got a good life
I life with a woman
Who’ll soon be my wife.
We live in a house
That we couldn’t afford
But we’ve got it for free
While the owners abroad.
I do easy work
and I get paid quite well
I get lots of spare time
and freebies as well.
I have lots of friends
You could say I’ve been blessed
Yet I still sit around
Feeling down and depressed.
How does it happen?
When does it start?
Are there parts of my brain
That are falling apart?
Why do some days seem easy?
So simple? A breeze?
While other days drag me
down onto my knees?
Sometimes I feel confident
Clever and able
Sometimes I want to crawl
under the table.
Sometimes I stumble,
I stutter and plod
Sometimes I’m flying
and feel like a God.
Somedays I have floods of ideas
in my head
Some days it’s hard
Just to get out of bed.
Why am I different?
Why am I prone?
Why can’t it **** off
and leave me alone?
Somedays I’m all smiles
and somedays I just frown
But I only write shit poems
When I am down.

RC 15-6-12

thoughts in the form of haiku

It’s still like Winter
I can’t stay in a country
That has no Summer


England is so wet
David and Becky are right
Let’s move to Hong Kong..

RC 12-6-12

Rory's Food Guide

Following the success of my ‘ham and coconut’ snack the other day, I’ve been experimenting with some other previously-untested-(and-probably-with-good-reason)food combinations. Here they are, with a one-word review of what they tasted like:

Red Leicester cheese and a Wine Gum - very nice
Sour Cream & Onion Pringles and a gherkin - vile
Watermelon and Gravy - vomit-inducing
Tinned tomato soup and bacon - undecided
Raw lime jelly and mustard - wrong…

And some special combo sandwich fillings I invented:
(NONE of which I would recommend trying)

Primula cheese-and-prawn spread and Heinz BBQ sauce
roll mop herrings and banana
Blackcurrant jam and sweetcorn
Honey and Spearmint toothpaste
Garlic mayonnaise and a Snickers

RC 9-6-12

It's Friday, so it's haiku..

I don’t like much sport
But nothing gets me going
Like women’s tennis

Diamond Jubilee…
..then it’s the Olympic Games…
Soon we’ll be bankrupt

Sometimes when it rains
I feel life washing away
and my will drowning

Cloudy English June
Puddles form and rivers swell
Summer is extinct

We’ve had so much rain
Why is there a hosepipe ban?
This country is nuts

Strawberries and cream
Umbrellas and welly boots
It must be Summer!

I like fish and chips
Nice crispy battered haddock
Makes my juices flow

If I was a dog
I’d be a randy corgi
And hump women’s legs

RC 8-6-12

Calamitous cat week continues...

I left the window open on TheLoveMachine last night and one of the neighbours cats has climbed in and slept in it and pissed everywhere. What an ARSEHOLE. I found it this morning when I went out to drive in for the early shift. I opened the door and this tabby streak of fur whizzed past me, and then the smell hit me like a piss-soaked tornado.  There’s no direct bus route from this house to work so I had three choices: pay for a taxi to get me there on time, get a bus into town then get another bus out past the supermarket, which would see me arrive 40 minutes late for work, or drive in and spend all day stinking of cat urine.  After much deliberation (and after chasing the tabby bastard down the street with a stick) I chose Option 4: I called work and told them I had a migraine.
You may think I’ve skived off work for a day of leisure, but if you’ve ever tried to clear piss-soaked cat hair out of your camper vans upholstery and then had to scrub it for three hours to get rid of the smell you’ll know it CANNOT be called a Day Of Leisure.
I sprayed the entire car with Febreze and hung up 7 Magic Trees and it still smells like an infected cattery.

RC 7-6-12

An unexpected pleasure

I came home starving today, but all we had in the fridge was some leftover ham and some coconut. I was so hungry I just shovelled it up and ate them both in the same mouthful. It was GORGEOUS! Try it - you’ll thank me from the bottom of your taste buds. 

RC 6-6-12

Right Royal Stuffing

You may have noticed that I haven’t mentioned the Diamond Jubilee much yet. This is because it has been an absolute nightmare for me at work. The supermarket has been determined to commemorate the occasion by earning at least ten million pounds for every year of Her Majesty’s reign. They are doing this by selling unbelievably cheap tat at extraordinary prices and pressurising the gullible paying public into buying them. Honestly - the shit we’re churning out in our “Special Jubilee” aisle is almost embarrassing. There’s old junky garden banners in there that have been rotting away in the warehouse for years. Just because we’ve slapped a sticker of the Queen on the packaging they’re flying off the shelves like they’re freebies. And they’re fifteen quid each. And they’re mostly being bought by old folk who normally forego buying toilet rolls and apples just so their cat ‘can have some Friskies this week‘. Silly, silly people. 

I didn’t watch much of the Jubilee Pageant stuff but I have to say Princess Catherine looked good enough to eat. Can I be charged with treason for saying I fancy our future Queen? I don’t care, I think it’s something to be proud of. It’s certainly better than saying I fancy our current Queen (no offence intended, ma’am)

RC 5-6-12

Pet hates

We brought the fish with us to the new place, but David is allergic to cats so we had to leave Gerald at home. I miss him terribly, and I’ve been worried that Hannah and her housefellows haven’t been looking after him, so I popped round unexpectedly to check on him. 
He looks fine. Incredibly well. And despite me having cared for him constantly since the day I got him, he looked at me as if I was a stranger who had just wandered off the street and threatened to eat him. Ungrateful little sod. So this is parenthood is it? Slaving yourself to the bone to provide for an otherwise unprovided-for creature? Nurturing it and caring for it and loving it and protecting it and teaching it? Only for it then to turn it’s nose up at you and it’s back to you? (not an easy trick to pull off physically, that one..)
Ungrateful.
Little.
Sod.
I’ll come back and see him in a month once the novelty has worn off and Hannah hasn’t fed him for two weeks and let’s see if he acts arsily towards me then. Little shit.

RC 3-6-12

Some Friday haiku

Suddenly it’s June
Time for the Queen’s Jubilee
And lots of tourists.

If I was a thief
I’d wait til street parties start
Then rob all their homes

Sixty years of rule
I feel sorry for Prince Charles
His mum’s immortal

Eighteen hours of light
I wish each month was like June;
each season like Spring

The thing about JUNE:
It’s one letter away from
being known as JUNK

1-6-12