Tuesday, 17 March 2015

Tell me why, I don't like Tuesdays.

I sit here, shivering wet after rushing out of the shower to write this blog. I so rarely get the urge to write these days, even the most vague signs of any brain activity make me hurl myself out of the frying pan and into the writing fire. It's a rubbish analogy.....given that I crawled out of my trickle of a shower into a freezing living room. The heating is on but my boiler is so old I think it's suffering from alzheimers and has forgotten how to work.

I only came on to share some gossip with you. Apparently, and I can't say who for fear of losing my temporary mind numbingly tedious job (how's that for being born under a bad sign), someone there has slept with cab drivers to get out of paying for their fare. Now I know this isn't exactly Panorama's own stuff, I'm not exactly going to get my own documentary off the back of this. This kind of jiggery-pokery has been going on since the dawn of, erm....taxi's. I was just wondering whether or not you women treasure this power? I mean, if I ever came across a female cabbie and tried it on, I'd probably get blinded with pepper spray before being deafened by a rape whistle and by the time I'd rediscovered said senses I'd find myself being dropped off at the police station for my efforts.

You never hear about men shagging their way to the top. Is it possible for men to use sex as a leg up to anything or simply get their leg over? Does it happen? If I were to do it I'd have to surpass Ron Jeremy's "magic number" simply to make it to office junior. Plus, nearly the entire building where I work is run my men, so it would involve me having to make some quite monumental life-style changes. No pain, no gain though eh? One up the bum, no harm done.......as they say. When I say "they", I mean 'Finchey' off 'The Office'.....if I'm making critical life decisions based on pearls of wisdom by Chris Finch, I'm in big trouble in little china.

Just so you know, in my haste to make sure I began this blog, I made myself late for work. I tend to think of myself as a bit of a maverick and that the world's rules don't apply to me. No sooner am I pissing into the wind and living by the seat of my pants I then launch into panic mode when I realise I'm not an 80's fighter pilot feeling the need for speed but a mere administrator who should really dig his delusions out of the 80s and join the rest of you in the equally deluded 21st century. Maybe I'll bypass you all and fast forward to the 25th century and join up with the deluded cast of Buck Rogers, who naively thought that the "man's world" would still exist in 500 years time and robots had less speech capabilities than a Commodore 64. Still, the lip-gloss made up for it all and I'm now aching to watch another episode of a sci-fi adventure that should have been sponsored by FHM, which hadn't been invented then...when Buck Rogers was filmed, not the 25th century, lads mags will be a distant memory by then, stories of yore, fables of a galaxy far, far away, the good old days. I'd be amazed if sex will still be legal in 400 years. It'll have probably been replaced my virtual sex, akin to The Lawnmower man, although I hope the experience will be better than watching the film itself, not even Channel 5 will touch that shit. I'm still waiting for the true horror of all the worlds phones ringing at once, jesus, how awful! 

What was I talking about again? Oh yeah....so anyway, in order to bring this nonsense to your soporific screens, I inadvertently turned my morning into a scene from Benny Hill, getting ready in x16 speed (roughly) and for some reason, in my head, I had Adrian Balboa shouting "YOU CAN DO IT! " in my head a la Rocky IV. You'll be glad to know, I did do it, I made it in on time....and it's all down to you Mrs B! 

By the way, if you have trouble spreading your "spreadable" butter on your lunchtime sandwich, which tends to tear the bread and drive me bloody crazy in the process (I'm looking at you, Lurpak, you lying bastards!), freeze your bread. Make the sandwich whilst it's still frozen, bread won't tear, you keep your sanity and also don't waste bread. I'm aware this is totally frivolous and tedious, but that's lifestyle blogging for you.....I'm simply trying to broaden my horizons.

Following 8 hours of making-money-to-pay-the-bills-and-nothing-more torture, I was rewarded at parents evening by hearing that my kids were much better than all the other kids. Whilst this isn't necessarily a word for word account, it's basically what they were telling us. I can see them renaming that school after them, anything else would just be a kick in the balls, quite frankly. Almost as much as a kick in the balls as my daughter surpassing my greatest achievement (best handwriting of Standard 4, Eisteddfod 1990) by the age of 5. There's nothing quite like having bright kids that remind you how limited you are as a human being.

To cap off this exhilarating Tuesday, I finally got to the gym. After lazily pretending to do some exercise, I bounded off to the sauna, full of energy having not done any actual exercise. It was the first time I'd ever visited a sauna and had to endure something more tortuous than the heat. It was the longest "oh, do you know so and so....." conversation I'd ever had the misfortune sit through. I was only able to tolerate 5 minutes of it until I sought sanctuary in the steam room, where you're never quite sure if you're sat in condensation, sweat or urine. Still, the silence was golden....as golden as the puddle I was sat in, probably.

I've never been involved in a conversation like that, probably because I don't know anyone. I do try, you know.....I leave the house.....I go to work......I occasionally frequent pubs and other places where people congregate (is it on oxymoron to say that you occasionally frequent something?).....I just keep myself to myself. Anyway, I decided to leave when the proverbial "it's a small world" cliche got blurted out, almost as if it needed to be said. Well yes, it is a small world, especially when you don't go anywhere. I'm not sure if I'd rather be blissfully and moronically unaware of my tedious boringness or completely conscious of it, as I am currently. I also don't know if I'd rather have the ability to tolerate and therefore get to know people or continue my relatively lone-wolf existence. A bit of both would be nice, but it's an invariably difficult job to accomplish, I'm working on it.

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