The Blogtometrist

Getting Back on The Hobby Horse

2010-08-26T21:27:00.009+01:00

Pffffffft... Pffffffft!

Excuse me, that was just me typographically speaking (If indeed you can speak typographically, clearly this is oxymoronity of the highest order) blowing the cobwebs off from this old blog of mine. It's been almost a year since I last posted anything on't'Internet, and even that was to bemoan the fact that I had apparently forgotten how to type in paragraphs.

So why then have I returned to this dusty and somewhat forgotten corner of my own Internet world?

The answer, put simply, is Twitter.

Twitter is something I signed up to almost two years ago. Having been invited to join in the fun by my good friend and long time MySpazz cohort Douglas. I can recall spending a bit of time configuring my profile page and tweaking bits and bobs. I think I may even have tweeted a grand total of four times.

However, I was lost and suitably underwhelmed by the experience. At that point in time, it just didn't cut the mustard as far as comparing it to the interactive experiences I had gained from being on MySpace and even Facebook. So inevitably I abandoned it. Almost immediately. I just couldn't understand it and at that time, not even Stephen Fry was making the waves he eventually went on to do. From that point onwards, the only contact I ever had from Twitter was an occasional mail update letting me know I was being followed by a Spambot or three.

So, how then did I come to be reunited with Twitter and ultimately this blog and er, typing in paragraphs?

Well I'll tell you. Or at least I'll tell myself, as quite conceivably, I'll be the only one who'll be reading this guff. The answer to the above question again is simple. Technology. Or I suppose more accurately, jiggered technology. The "jiggered technology" in question was my old Zen Creative Mp3 player. Sadly it died a miserable and ignominious death, having leapt like an electronical Lemming from my top pocket to the cold hard, unforgiving ground.

This may seem like an unlikely happenstance to bring about my reunification with both Twitter and blogging, but bear with me.

Now bereft of an Mp3 player, clearly I had to seek a replacement. Having had the Zen for what seemed like an eternity, and also some loose change wearing a hole in my pocket, I managed to convince the missus that an iPod Touch was clearly the only sensible replacement option.

Okay, so I know I'm late to the party in the technological gadgetry stakes, but firmly believe in the old if slightly amended adage "if it ain't broke, don't seek to resort to wanton, rampant consumerism to unnecessarily replace it". In any event, I was blown away by the veritable box of magical tricks the iPod turned out to be, having entertained myself with adding the vast majority of my CD collection to it and rating the songs. Playing Angry Birds and being able to watch videos in the palm of my hand on the bus home... through this sleek little beast I was finally living in the future parts of my childhood had always wanted (especially the pocket TV aspect).

Having gone on an App adding frenzy, inevitably Twitter was eventually added, and BANG, that was it. Suddenly, held in the palm of my hand Twitter made sense to me. I know I'm not alone in this as a number of friends have expressed similar views.

The thing is, the old MySpace blog withered on the vine as I, like so many others made the mass exodus to Facebook. Facebook was an entirely different beast to MySpace, and the truth of it is, having a bunch of former school friends, work colleagues and relatives metaphorically prying over my shoulder into my more extensive musings did not appeal. So there just didn't seem any point in musing any further.

Twitter on the other hand has given me a new lease of life. I am enjoying the relative anonymity, meeting new, entertaining and interesting people. I relish the challenge of reigning in my notorious grandiloquence to 140 characters and attempting to both get my point across and make it entertaining to read.

So in many respects I am reminded of how I felt when blogging on MySpace was fun. It has also caused me to start thinking similarly to the way in which I did back then. A part of my psyche that has lain dormant for far to long feels as though it's been kicked back into gear again and for this I am thankful.

I have no idea whether this means regular blogitudinalism or not, but I suspect I may be able to rustle up a word or twelve now and then and post it on here. Who knows, I may even be able to use Twitter to let folk know when this occurs.

Luv'n'Cuddlz

TheBlogtometrist xx

Breasts Banality

2009-06-04T19:47:00.003+01:00

This morning, bereft of any entertaining reading material to help reduce the monotony of my daily commute, I decided to put this time to good use. Choosing to indulge in a bit of mobilular phonical housekeeping (yup, them's proper words thems are) having noticed that the scrolling bar on my sent and received text messages was minute to the point of being infinitesimally small.

I find it can be quite interesting, trawling through old text messages, as they tend to provide a wee textual snapshot of where I was and what I was up to, and in some cases, how drunk I was at the time of sending each text.

So I found I rather enjoyed my administratively minded walk down this textual memory-lane, having forgotten exactly when, many of the various exchanges relating to social gatherings, gigs and beer festivals had taken place across the course of the year so far. It may not surprise you to learn that my verbosity cannot be confined by the limitations of space allotted to SMS messaging. Indeed, I seem to relish the challenge of filling up as much space as is possible to ensure value for money is gained... although admittedly, I will on occasion, sink as low as to use the mangled bastardisation of our language that is TXT spk... I never feel good about this, but sometimes that message just isn't worth spending an extra ten pence upon.

Where was I?...

Oh yes, texting and that... ahem...

During the dredging of my text messages, I happened to notice a particularly alarming trend. Sprinkled intermittently amongst my more frivolously friend based forays in textuality were a good number of messages sent to my good lady wife... Now you! Texts to the wife wasn't the alarming aspect! But rather, the content of these messages. You could be forgiven for imagining that these were heartfelt personal paeans, declaring my undying love for the darling dearest mother of my beautiful child. Or even that they were saucily centred, sensuously sexy, suggestions of lascivious seduction, you could be forgiven for imagining that, but you'd be wrong...

Depressingly, more often than not, they were largely comprised of discussions concerning food, usually about what would be for that coming night's tea-time. And an unhealthy amount of them related to my apparent obsession with chicken breasts, and in particular, their subsequent placement either in or out of the freezer, depending upon the position of the aforementioned chicken breasts in relation to either their levels of frozenness or their approaching of a best before date.

Clearly, this is yet another dizzying milestone in a life that squarely refuses to accept the imposing boundaries of its own mundanity, seeking to leap ever grander heights of banality with each passing year...

Chicken Breasts?! Bloody Chicken Breasts?!

I Should've Known...

2008-04-14T21:49:00.002+01:00

... I'd never be able to keep this blog a day nonsense up. Not that much happened yesterday anyway. I took back control of the weekly shop. Saving pennies and ensuring we weren't left scratching our heads wondering what the hell we were going to have to eat. The missus always seems to make a good job of having enough for two meals and then there's nowt for the rest of the week.

We took Olivia and her friends out yesterday afternoon to feed the ducks. On our way to Morpeth, it did indeed seem like nice weather for ducks. Luckily it held off and we remained perfectly dry for the duration. I made a rather tasty lamb hotpot for dinner and then before hitting the hay last night, I cobbled together a mean spicy tomato pasta sauce.

Today, for the first time in what seemed like an age, I cycled into work again and by the time I got there, I was well aware of the two or three week gap in my cycling schedule and suffered quite badly at the seemingly steepest hill in the area and I did it all with a gammy toe...

... yes, perhaps a blog a day is only ever gonna be a yawn fest eh?

For The Love of Waffle

2008-04-12T15:16:00.002+01:00

Foolishly I agreed to work overtime today, 9am - 1pm. It had already been a long enough week without adding to it, but how else am I gonna bank roll the child's seemingly continuous attendance at Birthday parties?

Truth be told, it wasn't all bad. In fact it was better than going to work on a normal day. No stress related phone calls from unrelenting morons, no goon-like colleagues to put up with, double time and best of all; I got to tackle the work whilst listening to the radio.

Long ago, in the days B.C. (before child) I used to regularly enjoy listening to the radio on a Saturday morning whilst happily going about the household chores, unhindered by requests to do this or come and play with... such and such.

I tend to enjoy the banter of radio DJs that speak to me on my level and appeal to my sense of humour. Therefore Jonathan Ross has always been a staple feature of my radio diet. Today I took along my DAB radio to listen to Adam and Joe on 6 Music, having recently become addicted to various BBC podcasts. Everything was going swimmingly until Donna came down to join us from reception "What's this crap you're listening to?" she demanded to know (presumably not caring to know the answer) "Don't you listen to anything decent, like Galaxy?".

I chose not to rise to this and to save having to listen to either her complaining or dreadful dance/"R&B" tunes we compromised and selected a slightly less torturous commercial station to listen to. "I can't stand listening to all that waffling on" she said "I just want to listen to the tunes". "That's funny, 'cause I can't stand to listen to an endless stream of poxy adverts" I retorted petulantly.

I came to realise that by downloading the podcasts, I'm actively seeking out "the waffle" mind you; a bit of witty, senseless banter is always more likely to help me of to the land of nod than any old trancey dance shite.

I don't know, the youth of today...

An Interference?

2008-04-11T20:49:00.002+01:00

Pfoooffff! That was a close one! 9.55pm and I almost forgot to adhere to my post a day, self imposed blogligation.

Well it's Friday (thank Crunchie, or just Cadbury's in general) and it has seemed like a long hard slog of a week. This is most probably down to the fact that I had two short weeks brought about by the advent of early Easter, followed by a week in which I only actually entered my work's office for one day before spending the remainder largely at a beer festival (I really must finish that blog).

Today, work provided another shining opportunity to subject myself to yet more toil and dejection in the pursuit of careerist advancement. This time, I shall be throwing my proverbial hat into the proverbial "Future Leaders Scheme" er... ring.

So it's back to the drawing board and filling out more forms for me then. This may interfere with web time and my regular posting, as it has done in the past, but I'm gonna try to keep this blog going. Indeed, the 200 word discipline may even come in handy as much of the form I have to complete requires 250 max words per example.

As it turns out I'm gonna need an extra fifty to finish this bad boy... Now where's my works spiel lexicon list gone?

Motivated, Tenacious, Strong personal commitment, Capacity to succeed, Strong leadership qualities... er, er... gi's a job! that kinda schlock.

Surely that should see me right? Right?

An Hairxperiment

2008-04-10T16:44:00.000+01:00

Bless my greasy heed! Seven days in and still not the faintest drop of shampoo has touched my scalp. What’s that? “Scruff!” I hear you cry? Well that’s as well as may be and you’re entitled to your opinions, but I reserve the right to conduct hairxperiments under my own steam.

I’m sure you’ve heard that your hair can wash itself. I recently heard an enthusiastic strumpet ruminating on the merits of (self washing hair) on the radio. This plucked at my intrigue glands, being an armchair eco-warrior I figured I could enjoy saving the planet whilst simultaneously neglecting my follicles.

Last Thursday I purposely had my barnet sharpened. I figured that the shorter my hair, the less conspicuous my lank locks would appear. So far this has proved successful. Currently my hair looks like it has simply been adorned with hair slap. I suspect eventually, I may begin lying to people and stating that I’ve started using Brylcreem as a means to excuse the greasiness of my bonce.

I must now try to hold my resolve and not wash it for a further 35 days to see the results. Hopefully I will avoid attracting a small swarm of flies.

Scaling New Weights

2008-04-09T17:43:00.001+01:00

Thrilling household news! We’ve only gone and purchased a new set of baarfroom scales ain’t we? Well, it’s thrilling to me at any rate… alright, maybe thrilling’s not the word… I’m buggered if I know what the word is. It’s probably more like two words… Mildly pleased. Yes, that’ll do, I’m mildly please to be the proud owner of a new set of bathroom scales.

We were forced into this latest acquisition as the old scale was a habitual liar. Of course this (quite literally) swung both ways, as it would on an almost daily basis, fluctuate its dial readings by up to half a stone either way. Obviously the weighty oscillations became too much for us to bear, exuberant jubilation one day, inconsolable desolation the next.

Whilst bought for better accuracy, the scales have also been purchased as a motivational tool to help the missus shed some of her heft. Having recently had problems with a slipped disc she was advised that losing some excess would prove to be great help, plus she has a 10km sponsored run to do sometime in June.

Whether they’ll make any real difference, we’ll just have to wait and see.

Aye, Google?

2008-04-08T18:03:00.001+01:00

Despite its having been around for apparently three years or so, I’ve only just stumbled upon i-Google. Exactly how I’ve managed to miss this particular Internet innovation for so long is beyond me. I recall opening my gmail account simply to escape the daily spam deluge hitting my old e-mail account. This in turn led me to Blogger and eventually a whole plethora of other Google based paraphernalia.

When I think about Google’s global ubiquity and their apparent stranglehold on all things Internet, I feel I should do with a shudder, but I can’t seem to help myself, like a web browsing junkie looking for his next fix.

Still, I really must doff my cap in their general direction for i-Google. Over the past few year’s I appear to have hermetically sealed myself within the walls of social networking sites, rarely popping my head above the parapet to see what’s going on out there in the real world.

Now I’ve got a new, shiny, customisable homepage, chock full of technical trinkets and web-wise wonderments. Best of all is the ability to be updated with links to my most favourite external webshites and blogs.

Thanks Google for freeing me from the tyranny of networking socially!

Aches, Pains and Misery...

2008-04-07T17:54:00.002+01:00

Well today, I feel like a total, physical wreck. This is due to a culmination of things. A spell of terrible sleeping, a bad back, and sore knee and to boot it all off, the weather is fucking terrible (This does nothing for my S.A.D.).

The sore back is undoubtedly related to my resurgence in all things Interwebberly. I haven’t sat at the PC for such prolonged periods of time in an absolute age. This, coupled to the fact that my PC set up is ergonomically shit doesn’t help much. The sooner I invest in a laptop the better.

As for the knee, I damaged it on Friday… prior to even leaving the house, never mind having a drink! I managed to bray it solidly on the frame of the bathroom door. Quite how I did this I am still yet to fathom. All I can recall is an immediate pang, a bright flash of light, some knee clasping and hopping and a torrent of profanity. I managed to make it to my bed and spent a good ten minutes curled in the foetal position whimpering.

At the very least I can always hope the weather will improve…

Catching Up With Myself

2008-04-06T20:10:00.002+01:00

Well, not even a week in and already I've fallen by the wayside in relation to The Premise.

In my defence, this was potentially one of the worst weeks I could've decided to put this into effect. I've had an unprecedentedly busy week by my own usually meagre standards. A golden wedding anniversary party, two days at a training course, two separate attendances at a beer festival and an Elbow gig all within seven apparently very short days.

With this in mind, I have decided not to beat myself up about not posting something each day. Although I do wish blogger had the facility to pre-date your blogs. Effectively so I could cheat but also to allow me to keep a tight chronological order of things (I am an anal retentive, please forgive me). I figured a way I could get around this would be to post something, anything, just one word even each day, and then, if I've anything I really want to submit I can edit it later.

I also need to ensure I focus more on this blog, and less time spackering about on the surshal netwurking shites that drain the life force from me so repeatedly.

Carrying On Regardless

2008-04-03T20:02:00.004+01:00

Well, last night, after having got home, I quickly uploaded and posted yesterday's effort typed at work and made a drop of the hat decision to go to the Beer Festival as a solo imbibementationalist. Despite my distinct lack of an accomplice in alcoholism I decided I was unable to break with tradition and so resolved to put in an appearance on festival opening night.

More to follow... the missus wants me to go and watch Dorchwood, whatever that is!

Right, where was I? Oh yes, the Beer Festival. This will take more than 200 words... ahem.

Arriving at Kings Walk I was surprised to actually have to stand in a queue for the first time I can recall on opening night. Sadly, the queue displayed a disappointing lack of cardigan bedecked, bearded, burly blokes. What's happening to the traditional Beer Festival attendees? Well, I suppose they're starting to become a bit more like me... average. Never mind, upon entering the University dungeon it was plain to see an increased 'tash count, so although it seems that facial topiary is on the wane, it is in certain circumstances merely being reduced.

This year was the first one to be held since the introduction of the nationwide indoor smoking ban. as a consequence of this, one of the first things to hit me (olfactorially speaking) was the unveiled and undeniable man muskiness, a pungent swell of men less well kept than your average modern-day metrosexual.

Aaaarrgghhh... yet more interruptions! I will get back to this soon.

Beer Today (?) Gone Tomorrow ?

2008-04-02T17:37:00.006+01:00

Well, I have happened to stumble upon a flash drive and have decided that I will be able to put this to good use and avert a repeat of the problems that stopped my regular blogitudinalism last year. I can now cobble random strains of thought together at work on my lunch hour again, without the need to e-mail words back and forth. Huzzah!

As I type this, I am rather concerned. I am on the precipice of a personal tragedy of admittedly meagre proportions. Tonight, the opening night of the Newcastle Beer Festival may be the first time in five years that I do not attend.

It’s become somewhat of a tradition, certainly, my friend Neil and I have made every year without fail. Not so this year as he is unable to get the recovery time off from work tomorrow. I am in two minds as to whether to go or not.

It certainly won’t be much fun going on my own and if I don’t, I will be able to go for the whole afternoon tomorrow, arm myself with a newspaper and spend the day getting idly pished.

There’s always a silver lining eh?

Happy Fool's Day

2008-04-01T16:10:00.002+01:00

Well, the training course finished at 11.30am. I managed to prolong my stay by ensuring that the already paid for sandwiches were treated as brunch and indulging in some post course waffle with the trainers and my team leader Gill. Thankfully, Gill offered me the opportunity to take the remainder of the day as flexi leave. I was quick to snap it up.

It must be difficult in these times of cynicism and apathy for media outlets to actually catch people out with "unusual news stories". However, this morning, before leaving the house I caught an article on BBC news, seemingly an advertisement for a new documentary.

Well done to them, because dressing it up with some plausible geography and "this recently discovered colony of penguins is unlike any other" had the missus hook, line and sinker. There was an "Aaaah" and a gasp of astonishment as they began to take off.

One quick look at my watch to confirm the date and a brief shaking of my head in her general direction was all it took to let her know she’d been April fooled.

I despair, I really do.

The Perils of Pedantry

2008-03-31T21:22:00.002+01:00

I Attended a training course for work today. It wasn't too bad as far as courses go. It was in aid of the forthcoming introduction of a new data management system, so it involved a lot of practical work, i.e. spackering about with a mouse and clicking on drop down file options.

Not exactly rocket science, but nor was it a slumber inducing snore-fest, theory laden kind of day. As an added bonus, we were finished by 3pm and they're concerned we may be finished by lunchtime tomorrow. I’m concerned too, as this would then mean returning to “proper” work. Boo!

In other news. Arriving home early due to the aforementioned, I was greeted in my facebook mail account with the following:

Dont bother taking the pee out of the way I spell 'definately', people have enough in life to worry about than some random taking the piss. Hope ypu grow up soon!

I’ve much to say on this subject and may do so elsewhere. This was in response to a status update I had submitted "Definitely is spelled definitely, not definately, when will you people ever lurn?"

I’ll have to be careful with my flippancy in future I fancy.

The Aftermath

2008-03-30T13:30:00.004+01:00

Urrrghhhh, today I am suffering with solid hangoverliness. Last night I attended my aunt and uncle's 50th Wedding anniversary. It's nice to be able to attend a family gathering for positive reason's, having spent a spell at a seemingly endless run of funerals.

I could of course make the obvious reference to prison sentences etc but that would be doing Douglas and Sheila a huge disservice. They are simply one of the loveliest couples I have ever had the good fortune to know, testament to this statement was the excellent turn out to their party, the continuously full dance floor and general all round merriment.

I spent the evening with a massive grin perma-plastered upon my dish due to the sheer joyousness of the occasion. The only downside being, that I drank more than my body is now apparently used to and spent a spell yodelling down the great white telephone. This was upsetting as I am unable to recall when last I vomited from overindulging on the old alkeehol.

Still, it does not detract from the enjoyment of last night's frivolities. Three cheers for Douglas and Sheila! Hip hip...

A Premise

2008-03-29T13:15:00.004Z

A thought occurred to me this morning. I have been having problems posting stuff at "the other place" recently. I seem to have lost the confidence to regularly string my words together and put them up for public dissection as I used to do.

This in part is due to my inability to put together "showpiece material" but also out of the self conscious realisation that in reality people aren't really all that interested in the day to day stuff of an everyday idiot such as myself.

Recently it feels as though I've had more stuff published on Teletext's Planet Sound - The Void pages. The trick with submitting stuff to them is that it has to be of a musical bent and be between 80-100 words long. I have enjoyed the discipline of putting together my views on subjects, keeping them succinct whilst making them readable with my own personal slant on things.

My idea is simple. I intend to use this page as a daily diary, keeping to a 100-200 word requirement. Hopefully this will give me the discipline to sit down each day and summarise things, who knows? If I feel like it works, I may even notify people about it or indeed use it elsewhere.

I'm pretty sure no one ever looks at this page now so it will give me free reign to try this little experiment. How successful I will be, Lord only knows, this is already nearing 300 words and an average posting of mine is usually 1200 words, so to condense a week into approximately 1400 seems like quite a challenge.

If any of my regular readers happen to come across this, I hope you will enjoy what is posted, although it is likely to be tediously dull.

Luv'n'Cuddlz

The Blogtometrist xx

Living Purgatorially

2007-06-27T21:06:00.000+01:00

Grrrrrr! It's been a couple of weeks now and I'm still awaiting the outcome of my work based "Internet indiscretions".

I'm not a happy bunny about this. I want this sorry, laughable procedure out of the way so that I can crack on with my life as it should be. I don't expect to get the bullet for this episode and am most probably looking at, a written warning at worst. Still, there's a honeymoon to be booked and I want to know that I can pay for it without the worry of whether household bills will be terrifyingly significant or not.

What's really sticking in my craw is the fact that I even remotely care about it at all. When I get to the very heart of it, I hate my job and perhaps being released would be a blessed relief. The sad truth of it all is that due to my rather poor academic record and general all round underachieveriness I don't actually feel worthy of much else beyond the realms of bottom rung clerical gubbins.

I often wish I could tap into that one thing, that special talent I may posses that might set me apart from the rest of the crowd and deliver unto me a job or career worth doing. It is easy to get swept away by all the petty problems that swamp the everyday mundanity of office life, but I know that in reality it all means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. I am just wasting precious moments of my life drowning in a bureaucratical ocean of pontificational pointlessness. People "talk the talk" (management speak) and I just want to throw up... on them.

The worst part is, for lack of any imagination on my part, I have attempted to drag myself up a rung or two on this turgid career ladder. To the extent of which, I am part of this year's Development Scheme. And, despite my current situation at work, I decided against throwing in the towel and have persevered, so much so that I have spent much of the past week working on one of the projects for the scheme.

This has really pissed me off. Feeling as though I have precious few options in the job market beyond the realms "paper shuffler extraordinaire" I find my own personal time being consumed on a project to help me go further in a job I don't actually even like. Where did it all go wrong? Probably in my haste to leave my education behind me... sigh...

...I am sorry, my thoughts about blog as catharsis are generally "Don't do it" but this is not the "Showbiz Blog" (Which, ironically and frustratingly, I have had a number of ideas for during the time spent on the works project) and I just needed to string a few of these thoughts together.

Father's Day Thought

2007-06-17T08:03:00.000+01:00

Well 'tis Father's Day.

This is a day that for many years I have been able to blissfully ignore. The lack of anything that remotely resembles a father figure for largest extent of my life is to blame/thank for this.

Of course, having sired a sproglet from my own loins a couple of years back has changed all this and now it means I get a sort of extra Birthday thrown in for free in the middle of the year.

Truth be told, I was still largely unaware that Father's day was even on its way, well, I was until I began to notice a spate of TV advertisements all hawking a vast selection of Dad Rock compilation albums, most of which appear to contain almost exactly the same MOR rock staples and increasingly more recent Indie fair that would appeal to the younger dads. Of course it's all a sham, any chap worth his musical salt will already own the better tunes as part of the original album etc. These are gifts designed for the lazy and unimaginative children who don't really know their dads all that well.

As part of my Father's Day package, I was afforded the luxury of a lie in. Aah bliss. It's not all that often I get to enjoy the pleasure of wrapping myself up in the duvet free from cover struggles with my better half, or Bed Nemesis as I tend to regard her in such situations.

Lying there, swathed in solitudinal quilt comfort, a thought struck me.

Now I'm aware that how comfortable you are when you are asleep is an entirely subjective thing. My good lady would argue that I'm never comfortable unless I am embarking upon some form of semi conscious, Olympic style sleep twists. The truth is, I personally am most comfortable lying on my front whilst sleeping, or at least whilst trying to get to sleep.

Well I say I'm most comfortable when lying on my front. This isn't entirely true. There is a certain anatomical, male protrusion that prevents outright comfort when lying face down. It is of course somewhat miscomfortable to be lying on my cock and balls.

However, this morning, with the duvet rights held exclusively by myself, I was able to create a comfortable space in which to tuck my proverbials. The undeniable comfort gifted to me by this gap undoubtedly resulted in my falling quickly back to sleep and enjoying a further solid forty five minutes of beddy-bye bliss.

I woke up well and truly refreshed and inspired by my sleeping pose. I feel compelled to write to a number of mattress manufacturers and encourage them to include in future designs a well positioned gap to accommodate all front sleeping males and their usually squished nethers.

Hopefully sometime soon we will see the introduction of Silent Night Mattresses and the with my patented Cock Trough design included.

How To Hang Yourself With a Hobby

2007-06-15T17:52:00.000+01:00

Phew!

Well, I'm glad that's over!

To what am I referring? Oh yes, of course, I forgot to include my other reason for withdrawing from "the other place". I had meant to post something about this during the week but had little or no opportunity to get round to it. Some of you that I have talked to directly over the past week will already know a little bit about it.

Last Thursday at work, I had dropped into my lap a rather comprehensive folder relating to my breaching the electronic communication and web browsing, and the Equality and Diversity policies. I had apparently forwarded tasteless material, undertook trivial non-work related exchanges with colleagues and external contacts and was involved with e-mails that contained abusive language or swearing whilst using work related e-mail and Internet systems.

This came as quite a shock, as I'm sure you can understand. As I have a number of former colleagues subscribed to the blog at "the other place" I decided that it was only sensible that I withdraw from that particular space for now, along with a bunch of other reasons I may or may not have already bored you with previously.

So I was notified that I was to attend an investigatory interview. This interview took place earlier today. I have since, spent the past week shitting the proverbial brick as to the possible outcome of this interview.

Having attended and gone through the various points raised, I feel that I have given a fair representation of myself and have, wherever possible given good justification or defence relating to some of the charges that were laid against me.

I had decided within seconds of reading the document that there was no point in denying the charges or even attempting to plead not guilty. After all, the evidence gathered by the IT security team was pretty comprehensive and from my perspective made for some pretty gruesome reading when it was laid out before me in black and white.

In reality the evidence provided was simply a list of items from my work's e-mail In and Out boxes. There were actually only 9 mails contained within my Inbox, none of which I had requested and the majority of which had been forwarded by my (not so) good lady. These were mostly silly jokes or funny picture attachments, most of which get largely ignored by me and ultimately deleted. I had however neglected to delete these mails quickly enough and so they remained there as so much electronical data file carcass for the eager IT Vultures to devour.

There were 11 mails contained within my Outbox. One of these mails contained a PowerPoint presentation spoofed desktop item. This I had forwarded to three colleagues. The other ten? Well, they were all word documents containing blogs in progress. These were the attachments that contained the abusive language and swearing. I should point out that every single one of them were only ever sent to my home e-mail address and not issued to any colleagues or other external contacts. They were for my eyes only.

Thankfully, the majority of these mails were sent during lunch or prior to working hours. I was also able to explain that I had created the documents myself and had never considered that I was violating the IT policy as they were contained attachments issued only to myself.

However, this doesn't detract from the fact that they were dredged up by this investigation and subsequently read by my area manager making the entire experience all the more uncomfortable. All those silly little ramblings, writings, observations and clever little turns of phrase certainly don't seem all that clever when being held under scrutiny in respect of such a matter. The worst example being the blog bollock one, described in the report thus:

Word Document containing a transcript of a weblog written by Mr X (Yup, that's me) which contains:

inappropriate language
html links to three external sites
inappropriate photo image of naked male genitalia

...those of you that may know to which this image refers will hopefully realise that this is not actually as bad as it reads. I am however, fully aware of exactly how badly it reads, and know all too well that it may be my ultimate undoing, depending upon the outcome of the decision based upon today's findings. So a truly monumental bollock dropped there then. I still can't believe that I left that particular image pasted onto that word document!

There was also a report into my web usage. At the Top of the Pops was "the other place" with a staggering 40+ hours since the turn of the year. I then made assurances that this time had largely been accumulated at my old office, as I very regularly arrived at work 20-30 minutes before work commenced and I also often used to access the Internet on my lunch hour too. I also know that this can be verified by my supervisors at both offices.

As it transpired, this entire investigation has been triggered by initial concerns that were raised almost upon arrival at my new office. A report had been made by a concerned colleague that I was potentially accessing unsuitable material whilst at work. I knew that this concern was most probably largely in relation to a particular default image. At the time I had apologised for the concern this had caused and immediately removed the offending image and had advised my new manager of this at the time. I had hoped and thought that that was the end of it all.

Not so, it would seem. And my final undoing appears to have been selecting to discuss my hobby as part of a presentation skills course, electing as I did to take along a handout containing blog promotional banners and an assortment of images used throughout my blogs. Although the presentation went well, I was reminded that much of the image content contained within my handout was deeply inappropriate for any future based work presentations and could be regarded as offensive to the eyes of some people. I can recall that exact moment most clearly, for in that moment, my stomach sank to the floor and a sense of foreboding washed over me instantly. Of course, there and then I had apologised profusely to the entire group, stating that it had never been my intention to cause offense and that it was down to a complete lack of forethought on my behalf.

I still to this day do not consider that handout to have contained anything out rightly offensive, but I am now all too aware that views of this nature are entirely subjective and I will never place myself in such a precarious position again.

As I said at the beginning, I feel I have represented myself well and accounted for the charges brought against me and was sure to apologise for making such an investigation necessary. If common sense prevails, hopefully I will receive just a written or even final warning and get to keep this poorly paid job, that whilst being poorly paid, still pays the bills nonetheless.

All I know is, this past week has been personal hell for me, and has had a subtle but quite profound effect upon me and my family, even my daughter appears to have picked up on the tension and has been very much not herself as a result of all this. I hope that whoever felt it was their duty to air their concerns originally did not do this out of malice as frankly, I wouldn't wish this unnecessary anxiety on anyone who didn't truly deserve it.

I will most probably have to wait for up to another week to ten days before I know the ultimate decision and may even yet be subject to a suspension and a further disciplinary hearing. I can only hope it doesn't come down to this.

Although many of the mistakes have undoubtedly been my own doing, much of it is simply down to a series of misunderstandings. I guess, to an extent soured the experience of blogging for me, but I know, once this sorry debacle is all over, I'll dust myself down and get right back on the old blogging mule and ride it into an hilarity fuelled sunset.

Years from now, I'll look back on all this and laugh...

There's More Than One Way to Spin a Rabbit

2007-06-11T21:30:00.000+01:00

Pfffooooh ye bugger!

On my tremendously short commute home this evening, I was belting along quite happily at a wonderfully unhindered 65 miles per hour. Driving bliss.

Up ahead, I noticed a piece of debris lying a quarter of the way across my side of the road. What was it? A chunk of wood? A rock? An abandoned artificial limb?

Due to the speed I was travelling the mysterious object's mysterism was very quickly demystified. It was the tiniest, cutest biggest eyesest lump o' vermin I ever did set my eyes upon whilst travelling at 65 miles per hour.

It wasn't dead, in fact, it was even very nearly dead, so much so it was very clearly full of life but also quite clearly stupid with it. As a car was speeding towards me in the opposite direction, there was no chance of attempting to swerve past the little varmint, and so, I had little choice but to grip the steering wheel, grit my teeth and cling to the hope that I was not about to crush bugs junior with my rubber burning, wheels o' fury.

It was a tense couple of seconds. Images of a bursting, blood spattering bunny, crushed under the pressure of my tyres raced through my mind's eye. For a split second, I couldn't bring myself to check the rearview mirror but morbid fascination always wins out.

There, displayed in the mirror remained a fully intact baby rabbit, only he had been flipped and was now facing in the opposite direction.

An almighty sigh was duly released.

Shart Blog

2007-06-10T11:22:00.000+01:00

What's this? Two blogs in a day with little or no space between postings?! What the Hell's all this about then?

Well, it's about the fact that this is my blog and as such I care little for the concerns of other people, unlike how things were on my old blog. So, supplemental to my Nup-Date blog posted only a few minutes ago, I have also decided to catalog further evidence of my continued slide towards being a typical middle aged shuffler.

Evidence item one: I made my first ever clothing purchase from Marks and Sparks. This had nothing to do with Bryan Ferry or his removal from being the face of M&S clothing for men. Surely I should only be buying food from Marks & Spencer's on account of their sexily voiced and alluring food ads? M&S is where yer dad buys his clothes from isn't it? Well, I've got news for myself. I am a dad and so it has begun. At least I'm not quite at the cardigan fancying stage, although I suspect it's only a matter of time.

Evidence item two: When I got home and decided to try it on. I usually always do this in the shop, but we were strapped for time on account of the groom to be fitted appointment and also, it was the last medium sized shirt on the rack. I almost put it back, as I so often do, expecting it to be there when I return, which it almost always isn't, so Eleonar insisted upon buying to save her from listening to me whingeing about it later.

I put on the shirt. It is a pale blue and white striped, short sleeved linen shirt. Perfect for the summer months and could be classed as both smart and casual wear. I also know that like many of my favourite that have gone before it, it will be part of my wardrobe for years to come.

As I stared into the mirror, I decided that I was quite happy with my new shirt. Sporting it, as is the fashion with my entire generation with the tails hanging out, rather than tucked in. However, this was the point at which I realised I'm at tipping point of real dad-dom. I felt compelled to tuck this shirt in, because it looked much smarter that way...

Aaaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!!! The end is nigh!

Nup-date

2007-06-10T10:41:00.000+01:00

Well, yesterday the family and I headed into town later in the afternoon to get me and my best man Greig suited and booted for the forthcoming nuptials. It wasn't my choice to head in at that time of day, I hate how busy centres of rampant consumerism can get at a weekend, and Newcastle certainly didn't disappoint. The place was heaving.

I feel that it is also worth noting that the family and I actually made our merry way into town on the public pauper truck, or an Arriva bus as most normal people would call it. In the past I would always have taken the car and paid for parking. However, thanks to the advent of cheaper competition, Arriva set their return prices back by over £1.50 and so the economical balance of this resulted in us choosing to take the bus at a total cost of only £6.00. Surely all public transport should look to offer the kind of affordable fares that at least challenge us all to think "Well, it would be just as cheap to take the bus" rather than the meagre concessions that always seem to weight us towards deciding that our cars would be quicker?

Anyway, we met up with Greig and his brood and made a beeline for Greenwood's Menswear in order to meet our 3 o' clock appointment. The gentleman assisting us with our choices of wedding day sartorial splendour was a most amiable fellow. However, I was slightly taken aback by his constant personal amusement at Greig's and my willingness to allow my good lady to make all the decisions. Not having been married before, I began to wonder exactly how many other chaps actually went along to choose their wedding garments without instruction or approval of their soon to be other halves.

I certainly can't think of anyone that I know that wasn't happy for their wives in waiting to simply organise almost every facet of their wedding day. I suppose a few may have made an occasional objection to certain sartorial suggestions and the like but not one of them outrightly had any real say or involvement. And as all males know, organising the wedding day is largely the preserve of the woman as apparently she has been planning it since she was approximately four years old... possibly younger.

This irksome detail aside, the choosing of our outfits went smoothly thanks to the amiability of all parties concerned. As it turned out, the get up we actually ended up ordering was almost item for item exactly the same as an outfit displayed in the wedding brochure. So it would seem that we are simply mindless, easily influenced fools, but I'm sure we'll look dapper enough on the day. Also, Greig may as well have not bothered turning up to be fitted, as, by pure coincidence, it appears that we are almost exactly the same size and shape, right down to our collar size. Sadly, I'll have to put this fact down to Greig letting himself go a bit and subjecting his waist size to an extra beer or twelve here and there. And as an added bonus, it means that even if we get our togs mixed up on the day, it won't matter a jot.

What with the acquiring the suits I almost feel my contribution to the big day is over. No bad thing in my book really. I'm happy to let the missus crack on and sort it all out, and she seems largely happy to do so. So everyone's a winner there then.

A New Dawn of Blogitudinalism

2007-06-08T08:45:00.000+01:00

Aah, a blogging rebirth.

How refreshing.

I most probably should have done this ages ago. Having spent the past year or so on one of the more popular social networking sites I have decided to join the exodus of the great and the good that have tired of it. The added bonus of having created this nice and shiny, brand spanking new blog is the anonymity that it affords. That and the wonderful spell check facility that was not provided to my old blog system. Not to mention the autosave option which to my mind is a miraculous item.

Yes, having built up a modest following on the aforementioned site, I have found myself somewhat constrained. At first it was most pleasing to have relative strangers take time to read the shamblings and ramblings I had posted and respond to them in a largely positive manner. Indeed, I became somewhat intoxicated by the whole process and began to actively seek a larger audience.

What I hadn't considered was the side effects of gaining a larger audience. I began to place quite a bit of pressure upon myself as to the kind of material I delivered and whether it was entertaining or funny enough. I also felt compelled to post far more regularly than I could really deliver and so towards the end I began to feel as though I wasn't even meeting my own expectations and so the joy and the spark inevitably faded. And with that, I have turned to the loving embrace of Blogger.com for solace.

So now that I have my new space, I can blather away 'til my heart's content, unconcerned as to whether my postings have any value to an audience other than myself. Of course, I'll most probably send a link to this very page to a select few people that may care to peruse whatever it is I will post here. I'm sure after the first couple of pondersome exercises in naval gazing, they'll end up giving me a miss too.

So it's talking to myself I'm after is it? Is it yet time to report myself to social services?