Ah, You're finaly here.

So you've trekked the web and travelled more miles then you can count.

You've got 'finger strain'...and, your wrist hurts! No, I don't wanna know why. :-)

And here you are.

Relax, put your feet up. Got your coffee? Good...

...let us begin....

Niece Car not Nice Car

Fab New Car

So me niece has passed her driving test. Whoopie, another bloomin' maniac on the road.

She wanted a car so I got her one. A kick-ass high end luxury vehicle. No really, it stalls every few hundred meters and you gotta get out and swear at the damn thing while kicking its rear end!

It's a 10 year old Nissan Almera, or a skip as it's more commonly known as. A big arsed luxuary car without the luxuary. It cost 650 pounds. Yes I know it's a bit expenxive, but this is my neice we're talking about. I wanted to treat her! Besides she paid for it.

Driving home from the dealers, she only decides to see what it's like to crash into the back of somebody else. No biggie, just a damaged light and a scrape on the bumper. Besides it was the other guys fault. He shouldn't have stopped in the middle of the road. So what if the lights were red, eh!

Anyway, I decided to give her a couple of lessons in her 'dull' new car. You know, to get her used to the car. We're driving down this dual carriageway (A406), when all of a sudden she starts applying make-up with one hand.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING" I scream at her, "you can't apply make-up with one hand whilst driving on a busy road". She got the message.

She now uses both hands to apply make-up.

Killer Pot Noodle

Bombay Bad Boy

I was hungry and the only thing to hand was a 'Bombay Bad Boy pot noodle'. Hmmm, didn't sound too bad, so I prepared and ate it.

Bloody hell it was HOT! Me toungue's still burning and I dread to go to the toilet...I'm sure I'll suffer 'spontaneous arse combustion' when I do.

In Australia people'll wake up in the middle of the night from an eerie scream...well that'll be me arse on fire.

Bombay blokes aren't that bad.

-- Post From My iPhone...Blogging on the go!!

Damned DVD

DVD Player throws a fit

My life is full of mistakes. Like the time I had an argument with a tree because it took my parking space!!

So in hindsight, perhaps I should have left my dvd player well alone. But oh no, my manly macho pride wouldn't let me.

I mean so what if the player skipped the dvds or played them when it felt like it? At least I got to enjoy parts of the movies, didn't I! I decided to open it up and check to see what the problem was. The fact that I know less about electronics then the common 'house fly' didn't stop me. I mean how hard could it be...

So I opened it up and had a good look around the innards, and just to feel good I poked my finger here and there. And becasue I was feeling very manly, I decided to use my soon-to-be exe's perfume on a cotton bud to clean the lens before putting it back togather again. Hmm, that should do it.

Now it doesn't play the dvds at all!

STUPID manly macho pride.

"Spare a ciggy!"

Spare cigarettes

I'm walking down the street, as-you-do, and a tramp/bum/undesirable/scourge-of-the-earth, (call him what you will) asks "got a spare fag?" So I look at him and reply "no mate, I'm gonna smoke 'em all".

I mean what's with that question? What, you're gonna smoke all your fags then look in the empty packet and find another one, and you're gonna think 'no I'm not gonna smoke that, cos that ones spare'?

Now now, don't judge me already. I'm not as tight as I make myself out-to-be. Trust me, I've given more money to charritable causes then I've spent on my own clothes. Er...I think.

Course, it has left me totally skint!

Public speaker...Not me. Test finale.

Tested beyond death.

So they say that if you're afraid of speaking in public, that you should visualise the public in the nude. The theory is that this will calm you down and allow you to overcome the fear of speaking in public!

Now, I'm a nervous type of guy. Heck, I get nervous talking to my own reflection, let alone speaking infront of an audience. So, imagine my apprehension, when I'm told that my final big test will be a one-on-one verbal examination of my knowledge. I'm a gibbering ball of jelly me, my throats drier then the Sahara, and my hearts racing faster then Lewis Hamilton (er..on a good day, when he's not crashing).

I'm facing my examiner and it's all I can do to stop my knees
buckling under me, when I decide to put the theory to the test.

First-of-all, it's not a good theory if your audience consists of a mass total of one person, and that other person is a guy (as am I).

So I'm picturing him naked, and it's defintely not working, cos he's got
'wood'!! Now I'm not only nervous, but I'm also shittin'-my-pants... I close my eyes and try to get the image of the naked examiner out of my brain, but it aint working, cos me brain's done the decent thing and legged it.

Everything becomes a blur, and the next thing I know, he's telling me I've past the exam. I may have got the job, but now I've also got issues, and nightmares and years of therapy to look forward to.

All because of that bloody theory!

Tests, tests and even more tests.

Testing me to death

So you know I've recently started a new a job? Well it's making me wish I hadn't. Cos for the past two weeks I've been sitting one test after another...I mean what's the matter, either tell me I'm too dumb or give me the job already, eh!

Why put me through all this unwanted stress? I thought I'd completed my education some time back, so let me live already.

Bloody Hell, I've got a test on Monday, Wednesday and the big one on Friday. I wouldn't mind, except the rule books I've gotta learn put me to sleep faster then a bullet to the head.

It's not good.

Awarded an Award


There's as many reasons for blogging as there are stars in the sky...okay maybe not that many.

Let's just say there are reasons. And we all have our own expectations from blogging. Desires even. Things that we want to achieve. Some blog because they like 'Repetitve wrist strain', some like the 'finger pain' (also known as Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS), perhaps you like back pain, blurry vision, neck pain, TOS (no, not as in self-pleasure, Thoracic Outlet Syndrome)...er..

...Anyway reasons. None of them are, however, mine.

My blogging stems from the old saying "A problem shared is a problem halved". Now I don't hold much faith in the 'adage', cos people don't just give you money (hey, ask my bank manager if you don't believe me).

So the theory goes that you share your problem with somebody and 'voila' it's halved, so, by that logic if I share it with four people, my problem will be quartered! With me so far? Good. So the more people that you share your problem with the smaller and smaller and smaller it becomes, until eventualy it becomes soo small that it's virtually non-exitant. And there you have it, I share my problems with the world and get rid of them...my problems, that is.

Simple. Hey I'm a simple sort of guy. Except, now I have another problem. The world...it don't wanna know me! Hey, look at the number of followers I've got. On top of that, the bloody 'adage' don't work!! And My problems are growing!!!

But somebody likes my silly blogs, so much so that they've given me an award, and I'd like to thank my mum...for being there, my dad, the neighbour...the guy who always pisses on our flowerbeds on Friday nights.

No seriously, Christine, I Thank You for the award, and for the time you take to read my blogs. People like you, who spread a few smiles through the Web make losers like myself feel really appreciated.

Christine's blogs are always entertaining and enlightening. Here is a link to her blogs and the award page.


I know, I've probably messed this up and shredded the 'award code' but I'm a newbie, and probably will always be.