Darwinian devilments

I’m aware that my blog posting yesterday was a bit of a rant-filled moan-a-thon, so I’ve promised myself that today’s offering will be more light-hearted:

I think the next stage of human evolution should see us develop the ability to do musical poo. A song should play out of your arse every time you drop a load. For those with a particular level of skill and a certain brand of finesse it should be possible to choose your own songs. You could have a professional poo play list. Admittedly, it might be a bit of a hindrance if you were looking to slip one out quickly and quietly somewhere, so there should also be the possibility to mute it. Wouldn’t it be great? Toilet times would no longer be embarrassing, dirty and smelly; they’d be fun! In the right set of circumstances you could go for a shit in a public loo and have a rap battle with the guy in the cubicle next to you. 
I for one would welcome this future development. 

RC 28-9-17

Rock off

There is a pathetic internet ‘craze’ at the moment where people are painting pictures on rocks and then leaving them in public places for other people to find and photograph. These photographs are then put on social media with some kind of witty hashtag so that other like-minded sad individuals can see how often their rocks have been spotted.
This is just to say that the next time I see someone trying to plant one of these rocks on our forecourt I’m going to chase them down the road and throw it through their back window.

As you might have guessed, I haven’t come back to work in the best of moods.

RC 27-9-17

See you then!

We’re off soon, thank God. My members of staff are panicking in case the garage blows up while I’m gone, the store manager is worrying in case I haven’t ordered enough stuff to keep up going until Wednesday, and Head Office are sticking their noses in because there are a lot of people working there who have nothing of any significance to do so they have to find things to interfere with so it looks like they’re busy and they can justify their ridiculously high salary which would be better spent on more members of staff at ground level or better training for individual managers like myself. 
Philippa and I are packed and ready. The car is fully fuelled. The hotel info is printed. Snacks are placed in reachable parts of the car. All is good. 
Until Wednesday morning, friends (unless we have free wi-fi where we’re going and I get the urge to blog sometime in the next three days while Philippa is having a shower or something…)

RC 22-9-17

late night something

It’s nearly the end of September for goodness sake. Why is life passing through me like a neutrino instead of stopping to stay like a parasite? The days seem to be barrelling by quicker than a barrel rolling down a specially-designed particularly-pleasing-to-barrels barrel run. I shouldn’t moan really. I like Autumn. I like Bonfire Night and fireworks displays and snuggling up on cold evenings and hot baths with hot chocolate and Christmas. 
Oh God, I just mentioned the ‘C’ word. 
Sorry - got a bit carried away and was trying to give myself positives to look forward to as we head towards Winter with Winter weather already here. At least we’re not in he Caribbean. We’re getting heavier, more frequent rain; those poor buggers are getting one category 4 storm after another. 
Sometimes I have an idea for a blog posting and I take my time to write it skilfully, and other times I just open up the webpage and ramble.
Guess which version you’re getting today?
I have to go and put the bin down the bottom of the drive now, ready for collection tomorrow morning. I think it’s recycling this week, but I assure you I’ll check.

RC 21-9-17

For the first time in ages, some haiku....

Mexico earthquake
means Florida hurricanes 
leave the front pages

Holiday weekend
A chance to escape away
With the one I love

My shoulders are sore
Too much drumming? Or simply
Middle-aged posture?

Work is a shitter
But without weekly income
Life would be shitter

Shall I compare thee
To a Summer’s day? No - you
look better in dark

RC 20-9-17
2100 BST

Snares, and Who Cares??

I had another drumming lesson last night and I‘m still buzzing from it this morning. I also have sore shoulders, but that might be because I was sitting too low on my stool and had to lift my arms up higher than usual to play. My drum teacher is a bit nuts, if I’m honest, but that’s fine with me. He doesn’t get all ‘teachery’ if I make silly mistakes or take a while to get the hang of something, he just says “it’s cool man” and let’s me try again. He plays keyboards too, so we did a bit of jamming rather than just him playing something then me repeating it. It’s still early days in our teacher/student relationship but I have to say I’m very relaxed about it and I can see improvements already and I’m looking forward to the next lesson immensely.

And a quick note to parents - it is possible to be proud of your child, and to tell them you are proud of them, and for that to be enough. You don’t have to clutter up social media with it all as well. About 98% of facebook posts at the moment seem to be women gloating about their children. I’m glad you’re proud of little Amy or Jonathan, but I don’t need to see a boast about it every time they comb their hair unaided or manage to lift up the toilet seat.

Thank you. 

RC 20-9-17

I wouldn't say we're keen but we've packed already

I only have three and a half more days to work before our little Autumn soiree. I’ve decided not to tell you where Philippa and I are going, so that it feels more secretive and more like a proper getaway. The chances are I’ve told you already, but I can’t remember doing it and I make it a policy never to read back through things I’ve posted before, so as far as I’m concerned you know nothing about it; and that’s fine with me. I finish at midday on Friday and don’t go back til Wednesday at 9am. If all goes well it’ll hopefully feel like we’ve been away a fortnight.
In other news, our new member of staff for the overnight shift has the wonderful name of Steve Wintergarden. I assumed it was some kind of stage name or possibly a moniker he’d chosen himself when he decided to turn his back on his family in the past, but no. His birth name really is Wintergarden. It’s an Anglicised translation of the surname of one of his ancestors, who arrived in the UK on a small boat sometime in the 19th Century from Germany, or possibly Poland. Or maybe it was somewhere further East, I genuinely can’t remember as I only ever allow 10% of my brain to be in gear when I’m at my place of employment. And I’m only there for another three and a half days before our holiday…….

RC 18-9-17

Small and round and irresistible

I seem to have become a bit of a fiend for crisps. I don’t know when this happened because my past would suggest I’ve always been more of a sweet than a savoury person when it comes to quick snacks. I’m not even a huge fan of any particular flavour if I’m honest so it’s not as if I’ve got a bit obsessive about a particular blend or something. My intake has simply crept up without me noticing it and has now become a bit of a worrying habit. I blame work. I’m surrounded by the bloody things and we have to stock up on them every morning, and they keep sending us more and more exotic combinations and part of my job (as I understand it, although I’ve never seen it written down anywhere nor had it mentioned to me by my superiors) is to taste-test each one so I know what we’re selling, and to do regular (say, daily) quality control checks on them. So I seem to help myself to a packet each time I have a break and a cuppa. I also buy multipacks to have at home and I’ll buy them to have with my lunch whenever I take a pack-up. 
I’m thinking I should cut back a bit and limit myself to one sensible-sized packet a day. But I’m also thinking (probably from the other hemisphere of my brain) that the best thing to do is eat even more and to keep increasing my intake until I’m thoroughly sick to death of them and will never be able to face another one as long as I live. Then I’ll be able to leave them alone. Mind you, that way of thinking didn’t work with things like cider and red wine so why should it work with crisps? Be fun to find out, wouldn’t it?
Anyway, while I resist the urge to grab hold of a bag of Walkers Sensations and start searching for psychiatric help online, I’ve decided to make up some flavours that I’d like to see used on crispy snacks in the future (and if you think some of these sound ridiculous, let me tell you that bags of something called ‘Lime & Black Pepper’ are currently selling very well in the garage.)

Coming soon to Chesworth’s Crisps…
Tarragon & Salmon
Pinot Noir
Floral Gum flavour
Essence of Motorway
Slut’s Perfume

RC 13-9-17

Don't you mean "Bryan"?

I know there are tens of thousands of recording artists and probably millions of individual songs that have been recorded over the decades, and I know people have finite time in which to listen to music and explore it, and I know we all have our individual tastes and preferences, but I can’t believe there are so few people I know who have ever even HEARD of Ryan Adams, much less listened to his music. He’s made about a dozen albums for God’s sake, how have people missed him? He has one of the finest voices ever; a particular style of playing guitar that is equal parts James Taylor and Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen; a way of writing lyrics that can be heartbreaking, bewildering or uplifting depending on what kind of song it is and what kind of mood he was in when he was writing it. He’s prolific and daring and brilliant and I implore you to look him up and listen to him. Most of his songs are available to listen to for free, so why not give it a shot? Go on - do it now. You’ll thank me later, I’m sure. 

RC 12-9-17

Memories (kind of)

I can’t believe it’s been 16 years since 9/11. I also can’t believe that TV schedulers are still churning out the same old shows about it every September to remind us. Everyone always says to me “you’ll never forget where you were when it happened” but I must be one of the few people in Britain whose memory is a bit uncertain. Alcohol is to blame, as it is for most of the problem periods in my life. I know there was a big party on the 10th but I can’t remember whose birthday it was that we were celebrating. I know I drank a lot of cocktails but I can’t remember what they were or what was in them. All I know is that I spent most of September 11th either asleep or throwing up in a dirty toilet. The first thing I knew about the attacks in the US was when I crawled onto a sofa at 1am on the 12th and had just enough strength to turn the telly on. How foolish and over-indulgent we are in our teens. Thank God I outgrew that behaviour, eh? And thank God all those problems with terror attacks and extremists are behind us too………………………..

RC 11-9-17

depressing thoughts

I am having to leave earlier and earlier when I go for an evening cycle. 
It was dark tonight by quarter past eight. 
It’s another three months before we reach the shortest day.
It’ll be another three months after that before we have the amount of daylight we have now.
God I hate Winter.

RC 10-9-17

lazinessssszzzzzz

What is it about the start of a calendar month that makes me really lazy when it comes to blogging? I seem to think a decent number of postings in the previous four weeks allows me to have some time off and relax and ignore you. It’s not a deliberate, conscious act. It just seems to happen, and it seems to happen regularly. So here we are on Friday 8th September and I’m writing my first blog of the month. And because I haven’t been blogging regularly I can’t think of anything to write about. There’s no point telling you about the meeting I had at work today because I haven’t been telling you about the events this week that have led up to that meeting, so I’d have to fill you in on five days worth of incidents in one go just so that I could boast about my successful presentation to the area manager today. (Sorry - under the terms and conditions of my working life I should have capitalised both Area and Manager, but I’m forgetful when it comes to grammar and punctuation. I’m also a bit of a rebel who hates authority and has contempt for those above me and refuses to feed anyones ego that is fragile enough to need their job title spelt with capitals in all correspondence, as if they are a frigging town or something.)
Anyway - in lieu of anything worthwhile to throw at you, I shall resort to pulling random thoughts and phrases from my little pocket diary/journal/notebook that I have written over the course of the last week or so:

“Big businesses exist to make money, they don’t care about providing you with a good service.”
“Donald Trump looks like the result of an illicit affair between Bob Monkhouse and Dame Edna Everage.”
“I wonder, given the choice, if an egg would prefer to be boiled, fried or scrambled?”

Two weeks today we have our romantic liaison away. Can’t wait…..

RC 8-9-17