Education

Its all abaht educashun innit?

Yep, that might apply if I'd gone to School in the late 80'/90's, but I didn't. I am a 70's schoolkid and that's why I can read, write, add , multiply, divide and converse, without having had to go to University to do it. Alright, I am at the Open University now, but if the Careers Officers had bothered to tell me that Uni would be 3 or 4 years of sex, dope, more sex, drink, even more sex...with maybe 3 hours of studying per week, with an honours degree at the end and a good job with good pay, then I might have stayed for A Levels and then gone to Uni. But they didn't. They said it was like school, that it was hard work, that it was "unattainable to people like you". Well, fuck them, I bet I earn more money than they ever did. But then their job was to judge people who had no idea what they wanted to do and then send them out to companies or jobs where we could be knocked into shape by the system.

My school, like so many others, was a rough suburban, city edge school. We had a grammar stream (I was in it), and therefore the strange inverse snobbery of the "comprehensive" system kicked into place. If I was intelligent then why wasn't I at Grammar School (not posh enough, and my mates wanted to go to this school), if I was intelligent then I was posh, therefore I was a swot, therefore I could legimitately be bullied, because swots were weeds, and weeds wouldn't fight back. They saw the flaw in this argument when I decked Wanker Gibson for nicking he fags I had nicked from my mum. After that I knocked his mate over as well, and he cried to the Teacher. I got a whack from the teacher, who kept my fags, but winked at me as well. That's when I knew I was as good as the others. I would never be the toughest, and would lose a few fights, but not many gambled on the fact that they would win. As with most bullies, they get scared off at the thought of a fat lip, sore bollocks (I knew where to kick)...even if they won! Nobody likes getting hurt, or worse still being seen to get hurt. I also knew that humour was a great winner, so my reputation as a funny little geezer grew. With that, came the confidence and belief and the humour came even easier. I can take the piss, but in an inclusive manner that doesn't hurt or upset people. I can take stories and anecdotes and colour them in to make people laugh. I do this because it is better to be liked than disliked. Those who don't get me, don't often like me, and I don't often like them. They are hard work, and have no lives. They are the serious ones.

Anyway,more on my past another time. The point is that under the Tories the institutions that suffered the most were...

1.) The schools, by virtue of under-investment, shit pay, sale of assets, lack of morale, bad press from Thatch and gang. Private education was encouraged, state education was discarded. Is it any wonder the standards fell during those years. DC is a governor at 2 schools, and I know that this patronizing bunch of bastards are actually keeping their promise of greater investment to try and bring the schools back to the standard they should be. Unpalatabe to a lot of people who think even more should be spent, but the fact is if 100% of our GDP was pumped into schools, those people would be moaning about the roads, the libraries, the railways etc etc ad infinitum. Teenager and Baby go to state schools. Sure private education has a higher chance of giving them a better education, but it ISN'T guaranteed. There are privately educated drop outs and heroin addicts as well. I am happy for them to get a few knocks, have a few ups and downs, make mistakes, get into scrapes, get hearts broken etc. That is as much a part of education as being shown or taught things in a class. I also value having some of my money for my life, and the life I provide them, such as 3 holidays per year, violin lessons, singing lessons, guitar lessons. That's my balance for my family, and me.

2.) The hospitals. Same as the schools. What about this though. If Thatch had her way and te NHS was dismantled for a private service then if you had a heart attack, you would then be excluded from any policy for further attacks as you are a high risk. The very thing you need the most, you can't have, and there would be such a minimal state system the chances are you would have no chance. Sure, get BUPA if you can afford it, it helps alleviate the load on the NHS, but the fundamental backbone of health care in the UK is the NHS. I will pay more tax to keep it alive. Again, Blair and the other nannies are keeping their promises here, and people forget just how bad the Tories let the NHS become. They were strangling it deliberately to justify the spread of private health care!.

I am still fundamentally a socialist, but a champagne one!

Later, GrocerJack

On and on and on...

Chicken Gooner thinks I'm pissed off and down because of my last post. Nah, not really, there is a difference between that and bored, and I'm just bored.

My company car has to go back because of the change of role. Not a problem because it costs me over £330 per month in tax and personal contribution anyway. So I've been looking for a new car for DC. She drives our other car, which is quite a big motor about the size of a 5-series. So she said, why don't I drive Goldie (the other car) and get her a smaller motor for running the kids around, but one that is capable of handling the odd motorway run. So we tested a Seat leon (fast, but a bit basic inside). DC fancied the Peugeot 307, so we tried to get one for a test drive. Apparently though, there is a huge Peugeot eating monster on the loose, because they couldn't supply us with one - no matter what engine or model, the 307 does not exist in the UK for a test drive. So, I looked over one in the local dealer (nope they didn't have a test drive model) and liked it enough to ring the dealer I am going to use. "Great" said he "shouldn't be an issue" . Today he called apparently there isn't a Peugeot 307 in the country available in any of the 5 (yes 5) colours we gave him. Apparently Peugeot are about to change the engine availability on the 307 diesels (for that is what I wanted, yes I am a tight bastard) and so he can't order it for me or give me a delivery date. You see, there's either a Peugeot eating monster out there, or it's a personal conspiracy against me!

Peugeot, you are about as much good as a chocolate teapot when it comes to Customer Service, and therefore I assume if you can't look after potential customers, and get that basic bit right, then your cars are rubbish as well.

I am going to order a Vauxhall Meriva instead, so if you know anything about them, then drop me a mail or a comment.

Later, Jack the Grocer

Trapped....

Back to work today - and I have to finally admit something. I'm bored shitless by the new role. My old role might have been hectic, but I talked to people, sparred with them, laughed with them and annoyed them. Now, it's like I'm on my own, not important. Persona non gratis. There was some promise last week, but now we have a new software tool which is integral to my role and my ability to carry it out. And guess what, the tool doesn't deliver a single thing that I could do on the supposedly crap old system. Yep, in typical big organization style, we get rid of stuff that works, replace it with more cumbersome and less effective stuff, consequently pissing off the users, whilst preening, clucking salesman and Project Managers give themselves corporate blow jobs on the success of "delivering this new and exciting tool" into our lives. Wankers is the word that springs to mind. So today, I answered all my emails in 10 minutes, tried to generate the daily and weekly reports for The Top Table (Sandman, M etc) from the new system, to no avail. In fact, at one point I thought it had let me generate something useful, and also allowed me to email it to The Top Table and The Middle Table (the people at my level). Unfortunately ...no...it emailed something to all of them and when they tried to read it, they did not have sufficient access. How shit is that? So I can generate a report, but if I want everyone to see it I have to print it and send it via internal mail...or cut and paste each field into a Microsoft Word document for subsequent emailing. Now, the truth is I don't have anything much else to do at the moment, aside from the odd meeting where nothing happens, and nothing is decided, but I resent using my active mind to such a dull purpose and refuse to sit there all day like some sort of "human word processor" taking automatic reports and putting them into another format via a manual cut and paste and sending it to people who won't read it. Once again the Ministry of Crap Design has cast its dark shadow over my life. I feel trapped, demotivated and demoralized. This weekend can't come quick enough.

So, as this seems to be my most productive forum at the moment I thought I'd share this little gripe with you.

Sally, you commented on my posts - the reason I didn't tell DC was the same reason as Salam Pax (see new link) in his Dear Raeed blog noted. Once his friends and family knew what he was up to, they would all clam up and not talk to him, unless he swore not to use their stuff in his posts. Which would defeat a lot of the object of my posts. I know I am running the risk of DC finding out, and then being accused of duplicity, but at the moment I don't think she'd understand my reasons or my purpose.

Teenager has been nice to me for 3 days now. I am worried by this. I think it's the build up to telling me something has been broken or lost....something that until now I wouldn't have noticed. It can't be that good to be as suspicious about her motives, but she is becoming very self aware and very clever. An interesting battle of wills is developing between me and her, although not as serious as the one with DC. DC and Teenager seem to be entering the typical Mother/Female Teenage daughter stage, where one forgets what it's like, and the other is trying to find out what it's like. Baby is now completely bemused by this and has subsequently become very clingy to me - of course I don't mind this because she is still so cute, and therefore my "hero" factor rises, which is an ego boost to any Dad.


Time for lunch already.....blimey that went fast (NOT!)

Later, Jack the Grocer

A Quiet Day...

Today has been one of the quietest I can remember - me off for a day, kids at school, DC at work. You start to relish a bit of peace and quiet when youm get a bit older and days like this are one of the best ways to switch the mind down a bit and relax. Today has been that day. Back to work tomorrow and then the final day before the big weekend. I had a look at the weather report again as today is such a nice day and I don't want to tempt fate but it is different to the one from yesterday.

There has been a report from the government, or The nannies as I prefer to call them. Apparently our kids like the sun too much and spend too long playing outside when its sunny. Jesus fucking Christ, as if we see a lot of the bloody thing anyway. My kids are stuck in day after day during the winter because of the poxy rain and grim windy conditions. When it's sunny, of course they want to go out...so do I. Apparently though we can't be trusted to take a few precautions to prevent burning, no...we're all too fucking stupid. So we get another wanky report from some overpaid stuffed shirt government scientist cum sociologist ramming more "good health" shit at us. Listen, leave us alone, we've got this far pretty much OK and by ourselves. Message to Blair and gang - Keep your bullshit studies to yourself and stop patronising me, my family, my friends - give us some credit and keep your pseudo-socialist , bleeding heart, nanny state noses out of our lives. It's enough to make me reach for the ciggies.....

Don't smoke
Don't drink
Don't drive
Don't sunbathe
Don't eat burgers
Don't use sugar
Don't eat sweets
Don't have sex
Don't watch TV
Don't play video games
Don't surf the net
Don't eat dairy food
Don't eat chocolate
Don't drink coffee
Don't drink Tea
Don't drink Coke/Pepsi/Lemonade/Tizer etc etc

What a crock of shit.

Later, Jack the Grocer

Comments?

Thanks to crox you can now comment on my ramblings and musings from the comments links now showing on the site. I have also added some links to other sites. More will follow. Thanks again to Croxy who has been a real star in helping me jazz things up just a little.

Later, Jack the Grocer

Contact...

Another contact from the blog world has arrived at my mailbox (grocerjak@lycos.co.uk). Thanks to crox for the kind comments. Check his site out here

www.crox.blogspot.com

Frankly I would rather be playing golf. I think we have too much info these days. I was really looking forward to my golf weekend. I then did the worst possible thing.....checked the weekend weather forecast for DevWall - and guess what....yep rain, rain by the shitload, buckets of bloody rain, and now I have the vision of me standing on a golf course swigging the last drop of single malt from a hip flask in a vain attempt to lift my sagging spirits, cold, wet, miserable and pissed off because I CAN'T play good golf in the rain. I wear glasses, and when it rains they have to come off (no windscreen wipers!) and that means the small white sphere I am attempting to hit off of a much larger sphere becomes a blur and if I hit it well, after 20 yards I can't see it. I'd vote for any government that spent some money on weather control technologies. Hopefully, one day I'll be given early retirement and can stop working at 50 something (yeah I can dream), and when that happens, the house is sold and DC and me can move to the South of France, or Italy....anywhere the weather is better. People say I'd miss the UK weather.....bollocks will I!

We are a party of four going to DevWall. My friend, The King is sharing my room. One other guy I do not know, he is a friend of Bob6 and Bob6 is the friend of mine from London. I may have said this before but he is called Bob6 because of his rather strange habit of hitting 8 or 9 shots on certain holes and then saying "it was a 6" or "lets call it a 6". The thing is I never say anything about this. Last year we had a game near where he lives in Iver. On the 11th hole he had a 3 shot lead. He then got an 11, yep thats 11. 7 to the green then 4 putts. I,like every golfer, know what this is like and the only person to beat up is yourself. You swallow your pride, you look at your mate and you say "11, a fucking 11, thats my poxy game over". Then you birdie the next....it's that kind of game. But Bob6 said "That was an 8"...hmm I thought ...well at least he didn't try and claim the 6 so it's an improvement. I wrote down 8 because I'm that much in need of golfing friends. We finished the game - he won by a single stroke, and a single point, although the matchplay was even. I don't mind defeat, after all I am playing myself more than him. But then Bob6 went on to deliver me a critique of where I go wrong in my game. Cheeky bastard - I know where I go wrong...I tell the truth about my scores! Perhaps thats my problem and why I'm off 24.

Another thing about Bob6 is ...well he's a bit like Benny Hill. Not in looks or anything, but he is what I define as a typical Sun reader. Now this might piss a few people off, but the Sun is a shit rag and appeals to the worst attributes in people. Bob6 gets it to see the Page 3 girls tits. Now,I like Tits like any other heterosexual bloke (I don't like Colin Montgomeries though) but I kind of got over buying the Sun for the tits when I was 18. Bob6 has never moved on. Golf is also a nightmare for Bob6 because of his unceasing capability to live in the world of double-entendres. You see, he thinks its funny to constantly mention and snigger at "hold it further down the shaft", or the green is "the other side of the mound". Don't mention the"head" of the club, or the endless hours of hilarity he gets from "balls" and "holes" and "lipping out". This is why The King is coming along as I need to have a point of sanity and reason to refer back to. Oh, and then he will regale the poor bar staff with piss poor chat up lines (didn't we go to the same school? errr no, she lives in Cornwall and is 15 years younger than you!)or a hole by hole account of his game - yep just what the bar staff want, another golfer lying about his game, because they've never heard this stuff before.

Why am I going then? He is my friend and has been there during rough times. I don't reject friends because they politically aren't like me, or they are racist, gay or whatever. My criteria for friendship goes much deeper than that. Bob6's wife is a close friend to myself and DC and they're off to Spain for the weekend (yep, no fucking rain there I would think). Last year they went to Italy and I went to Cornwall with Bob6 where I played the best golf of my life and he embarrassed me at every moment. I did kind of vow not to do it again to DC, but when The King offered to back me up I decided to have another go. As the man says, I'd rather be playing golf...

Later, Jack the Grocer

So that was the weekend was it....?

Played golf on Saturday, and went round in 96 - that's good for me. My main golf mate - The King went round in 94. Beat me on the last fucking hole again! Why can't I play like that on the Corporate days? The pub was good again, it gets better each week. I am away this weekend in Devon or Cornwall (depends on the map as to where the place is - lets just agree that it is in DevWall). One of my friends - Mr Chelsea - was in fine argumentative form on Friday. His wife, Mrs Chelsea sometimes looks on us both a little bemused, because we do actually support the same team, but we disagree on just about everything to do with the club. I think Ranieri should go because I don't think he is the man for the future, Mr Chelsea thinks he's the best thing since.......well Luca Vialli I guess, although for those who don't know, he is also the only thing since Luca Vialli! Poor Mrs Chelsea seems to be stuck in this role of referee between us, I'm sure she doesn't mind but like I say I just get this impression that she'd like to bang our heads together like a couple of naughty schoolboys. Hmmm....as Mr Chelsea is a member of the GOGB it might just be possible that we are just fulfilling our roles as miserable old sods (MOS) - an organization that I might just form, which is open to both genders. There are honorary members of the GOGB who are women, but "honorary" is the best they can achieve, unless they undergo an operation to add some vital bits.

We beat Wolves on Saturday - good, Wolves are one of the most arrogant of clubs. They have been harping on about being " a big club" for 20 odd years, whilst languishing in the lower divisions. Well, they have certainly discovered what it's like being at the top table this year, and when they are inevitably relegated perhaps the fans can spend a year learning some humility in preparation for any future promotions. Yes, I know humility is sounding a bit rich from a Chelsea fan, but I've been with them for 30 years, through mainly thin, sometimes thinner, with just a soupcon of good times. Maybe it's time we did shout our Chelsea flash boy mouth off, after all Glory Hunters and Gooners have been doing it long enough.

The Grand Master and Raptor stayed and went. They had a good time, and I was on sparkling form on Saturday night, even if I do say so myself. LittleSis also joined us and I can genuinely say it was a very good and genial time. Thanks to the black stuff, and some chilled Cotes du Rhone I passed out, contented and smiling, after the footie :-)

The week before a break is always painfully long and this one is no exception. I will use the break to play golf, and switch my mind off. Truly to relax.

Later, Jack the Grocer

Corporate Ladders of the Jacob variety.....

4 weeks ago I was an Operational Manager, with a team of around 20 or so people. Then the re-org was announced and I suddenly have no team, just a new role in an area I know little about. I am at what is called Level 5 in the organization. There is one layer below this Level 6, or monkey-people as we know them. Level 5, many years ago was Team leader, but then some bright HR person (an oxymoron surely) decided that we should be called Team Managers. I'm sure that the intention was to make us feel important, to puff up our chests and think "finally made it".

However, the truth is exactly as Tim from "The Office" stated it. Team leader (or manager) is nothing, its a milk monitor role. You get more shit, less money, no power. You get your arse kicked from the team, from the "senior" management and from other teams. You are universally unappreciated and disliked. Even by yourself sometimes. But you do the job because it's the gateway to the next bigger table, on the path to the beautifully and expensively constructed table at the very top of the company inhabited by all the other public schoolboys and Freemasons. However, this gateway is always shut though and occasionally when it's rusty chains and locks are released, it slowly creaks and wheezes open, and you see The Gatekeeper. The Gatekeeper has an invite list, and on that list is some fuck faced little management corporate cock sucker on some fast-track, get you there quick, I love me/aren't I great/funky/trendy/cool/nice graduate scheme, even though their degree is in poxy Klingon Tradition and History. But, hey, these young people are the future, they will use their dynamism and drive to move the company forward. The fact that they are socially inept, can't fucking spell, and produce and deliver nothing is irrelevant.

We live in a society that treasures words more than actions - just look at our soundbite political parties and you can see why this facet of the way we live has come to be the dominant methodology.

My boss, M, as we shall refer to him, is a decent bloke and is at level 4. Knows fuck all about me, or my role, but there was nowhere else for it or me to go. He is the type that likes to enter a meeting whilst having a very loud and important sounding (to him)conversation on his mobile. Before he was my boss I went to some meetings where he was in attendance and he did it every time. Tosser was the word that sprang to mind, but now it just seems to be his way. Some people have no sense of protocol. Maybe he is very important and I'm too disgruntled and militant to notice it.

M has indicated that when he is off, I can represent him at meetings with The Sandman.

The Sandman is our Level 3 (this is getting important now). 2 years ago I was a direct report to The Sandman, but he is very ambitious, the sort of bloke that leaves a wake of soul destroyed, demotivated, demoralized and shell shocked people in his wake as he ascends the greasy Corporate ladder. A seagull manager - flies in, shits on everyone, flies off.

Conversation with M went like this

M: You're the most experienced person in the team, so when I'm off can you deputise for me and go to The Sandmans meetings
Jack: (Out loud) - Yep, I'd be happy to, not a problem
Jack: (Inside) - Whoopy-fucking -do. You patronizing bastard - Oh so I can sit at the top table with the (self) important wankers can I? Well, fuck you
M: Great, I knew you'd be OK about that...it'll be a good experience for you
Jack: (Out loud) - Yep, never a bad thing to raise your profile
Jack: (Inside) - so the fact that I've been doing that for the last 3 years has been erased from my history. Thanks a fucking bunch.
M: Must dash, have a meeting with the Sandman now.....
Jack: (Out loud) - Cheers, have a good one
Jack: (Inside) - so I'm not good enough to come along now huh? I am the pauper, who can eat the crumbs when beckoned to do so........bitter moi?

I sell my soul like this every day, one day it'll be to The Devil and then I can get some real rewards.

A message for The Sandman

Long you'll live and high you'll fly
But only if you ride the tide
And balanced on the biggest wave
You race towards an early grave



We (DC, Jack, teenager and Baby) await the Royal visit of Grand Master and Raptor. We have a theory that their journey time down to us is always short because the traffic just parts for them, and people stand and doff caps as they negotiate the tricky route along the A3.

Pub tonight, a small but increasingly important pleasure

Later Jack the Grocer

A sobering moment

My friend The Policemans Daughter emailed me tonight. We have known each other since we were ....well about 2 years old I guess and regained contact via Friends Reunited. We lived over the road from each other until I sold my parents house (which put Dave into foster care with his mates Mum and Dad, and Shitneck just moved into a flat with some mates) and our Mums became close friends. I suppose she was my first girlfriend, by virtue of the fact she was a girl...err and my friend. Funny, we never dated when we got old enough to, but probably because teenage girls aren't interested in boys their age (this is why Teenager and Mini-Me are not a major concern to me, its the older blokes at the school that worry me ), but more likely is the fact that she was...hot, and I wasn't. Plus I have crooked teeth (like a lot of people in the UK...thanks NOT to NHS dentistry) and am .....errr also vertically challenged...and was a bit of a yoB myself and probably a bit of a pig in the looks front! Blimey, you were fickle weren't you :-) Anyway, The Policemans Daughter has a sister (hereafter known as Snow Queen) and in an earlier email she told me that her sister was now in a wheelchair, apparently she had a spinal problem which they thought could be fixed, but when they operated it was worse than they realized and the subsequent operation left her almost totally paralyzed was a jolt to me let alone what it must have been like for her and made me sad. I don't know Snow Queen very well, in fact barely at all - after all she was older than me, so even less reason to communicate when we were young. The Policemans Daughter said things that were typical of people whose lives are touched by this kind of thing, showing true love and admiration for her sister, using the words with a passion she should cherish and I find it uplifting that Snow Queen has taken some brave decisions and is just determined to get on with life, no matter what it throws at her. I'd like to think I would be the same, but how could anyone know?

Why so maudling then Jack? As I said on a previous posting, the older you get the more you worry when you become ill. I visited The Quack this morning about this god forsaken sore throat that won't go away. The glands are still swollen and he said I should wait 6-8 weeks before going back, if I still have the sore throat. No antibiotics, nothing, fuck all. He even suggested I come off the painkillers. If it doesn't go of its own accord then its off to Ear Nose and Throat at the local hospital for tests and a possible biopsy. Which never sounds good does it? (Another friend - The Chicken Gooner - tells me ENT is always the busiest with the longest waiting lists). I had a motor bike crash 10 years ago which put me in hospital for 6 weeks one Christmas - the injuries weren't life threatening, but the moment I hit the road I moved from an indestructible 30 something to someone very aware of my mortality. Since then every illness makes me wonder if this is the big one, the one that knocks me into the next Big Adventure. It was a life changing moment and one which occasionally flashes back to me. I suppose the upside of the accident was that I learnt the value of life, which after my parents had died had always seemed so cheap. Anyway my point is it's what's in the mind that counts, and I genuinely believe the essence of the real person is enveloped in their mind and personality and not their physical capability.

Teenager is excellent at school! Teachers couldn't say enough nice things...what the hell is going on? Is she like Perry from the Kevin and Perry sketches. Does she smile sweetly at the teachers, give them apples and them come home and sulk,moan and ignore? I am pleased, but it does seem mystifying to see the words "cheerful, helpful and good attitude" in sentences describing Teenager. And when did Teachers become nice? In my day they were all raving socialists, with heavy smoking habits, scruffy clothes, power complexes, with a ready hand to slap you with, or for wielding another man made weapon (slipper was the fave at my school - didn't leave the same marks as the cane...clever technique huh?). I can't remember any teachers that were as polite as Teenagers (or as fanciable in her form tutors case!). Fuck me, I am just a great big old letch aren't I? Good, means I can remain within the GOGB and just get a little worse with each passing day :-)

Later, Jack the Grocer

The Family and other Humans

Tonight is Teenager's parents evening. I've already seen the report and (grudgingly) have to admit she is doing OK. Art seems a problem, but then you've either got talent or you haven't. I think she'll be like me, that is totally talentless (as my guitar lessons indicate, and my drawings at matchstick people level also indicate), but able to therefore appreciate artistic talent even more. All she has to do is attain some decent musical taste. Got the Evanescence album legitimately yesterday, and for whatever reason it sounds even better now it's legal. I am meeting DC at the school, and I think Teenager might be there as well...I wonder if her yoBfriend will be about? My brother in law (Big Sykes) saw him last week at the swimming pool, with Teenager and the She-Teen crew. Apparently he is a bit ..vertically challenged, however so am I so maybe we have a common base...dunno why I worry coz he is the first and therefore it is doomed. Big Sykes has decided to christen him Mini-Me, which made me laugh, but Teenager is most definitely not amused. I therefore will do what all good Dads do, and use this nickname at every opportunity as another "tool of torment".

I have 2 bro-in-laws, the other one is Small Sykes. Big Sykes is married to DC's youngest sister, who I get on very well with, mainly because we seem very similar in our personalities...we both say what we think. She doesn't really have a pseudonym, so I'll call her LittleSis. The middle sister (hereafter known as MiddleSis) is married to Small Sykes and is quieter than LittleSis and DC, a former "rock chick" who reminds me very much of Phoebe from Friends - dunno why really because she isn't scatty, but sometimes she just seems that way. It's a clever ploy if you ask me.

I have 2 brothers, the middle one is Shitneck, the youngest I haven't seen or spoke to for about 8 years...nothing nasty , we just seem to have grown apart, plus he had a few difficulties with his marriage a few years ago. He thought he could share his "love" with others, but his wife disagreed. From that point on he fought to win her back, and when he did he decided to "marginalise "Shitneck and me in order to concentrate on making the marriage work second time around. It took a few years but he failed and as far as I know he is hitched up with a danish bird of about 22 (he is 33)who allegedly has erased most of his previous life including pictures or references to his kids. He was so unreliable to us we decided to call him Dave (in a Trigger/Rodney sort of way). It isn't his name, but it seems to fit. Then of course there are my Parents in law - The Grand Master and Raptor (formerly known as Medusa). I love them both, no really! They aren't like parents in law because they are quite young (late 50's), and as I grow older I see my attitude changing like the Grand Masters. He is a fully fledged Grumpy Old Man, and when they come down this weekend we will make our usual trip to the Pub, and he can talk to The Governor and me and we can moan together...it's a form of male bonding I guess. He loves the pub, it is his idea of the perfect place to have a few beers and a chat in nice surroundings. Can't argue with that.

Later, Jack the Grocer

DC is downstairs having a glass of wine, despite allegedly feeling quite unwell. This is a woman thing, if a man is unwell then alcohol is usually the last thing you want. Anyway, I didn't watch the game and because of that we didn't lose. We drew 1-1 which makes the return leg at Lowbury very interesting because frankly we have to eithe draw 2-2, or win by any margin.0-0 will not be enough....I might be tempted, but it will be after several pints of the black stuff, or a bottle of Rioja (the very best red wine, love it, love it , love it!). Teenager watched it at her "club" , apparently they don't like the phrase "youth club", but she has earned my admiration for being that brave. She is under pressure from her alleged yoBfriend (work it out...) to change alleiance to Southampton. I have told her she will be removed from my will if she does that, but again she surprised me by saying how.... ..proud she was to support Chelsea. I feel a bit guilty because this season is the first that I haven't taken them to at least one game, so I will make sure that next season they get to a game. DC is merely an honrary fan, as she was bought up a QPR supporter. That's fine, we Chelsea fans like to patronisingly look at QPR as our poorer cousins, and you'll often find a few Chelsea fans at Loftus Road watching QPR when Chelsea are away, helping them financially even ina small way, although if QPR were in the Premiership this would count as a sacreligous act.

What I did instead was study some more for my course. It is intriguing, the arguments are from someone called Peter Singer, a philospher and animal rights crusader. He argues first for equality between humans, irrespective of race, creed, skin colour, intelligence, ability/disability etc. He then argues that this should be extended to animals. His analogy is that slave owners used to treat slaves as no better than animals until the error of this was changed culturally, and that as such this should be extended to animals as well. It's a bit deeper than that , all to do with degrees of suffering and the lack of difference between species suffring, but it made me think, although not enough to prevent me having non-veggie cheese on toast.

I have had a sore throat for 6 weeks now,penicillin didn't work much. It isn't glandular fever, so tomorrow it's back to the docs for another look. Worried, yes very much so, but I have also had a cold and sinus problems for longer than that. Hopefully it's just viral and will disappear over time. At the moment Ibuprofen seems to calm it a bit. It's not persistent, but there are raised glands apparently, and it really only hurts if I yawn, or sing, or shout. At 42 though, everything makes you worry a bit more...doesn't it?

Later, Jack the Grocer

Humble Pie

Hear that noise? Yes , its the sound of the Humble Pie lorry pulling up outside. After my music whinge I arranged to bypass the proxy server at work (naughty, but nice to still have the contacts from my old area) and now I get digital radio to my laptop, This means XFM, Virgin etc etc. So my life is full of excellent new music...Snow Patrol anyone? Fuck me, it's like being a teenager again, with musical awareness being re-awakened within me. So, I'll eat the slice of humble pie and retract my statements about modern music being rubbish. It's just that Teenager seems to have picked the dross stuff to listen to (Evanescence aside!) at home. Or is it just that these new bands are just putting a new slant on my old rock genre? Who cares, it sounds good and is definitely lighting my candle at the moment.

Tonight is the big one ...Chelsea vs Arsenal in the Champions (sic) League. I have had 2 offers to watch this in company, but my mind was made up on the day we pulled them out of the hat. I will be in my spare room, studying Utilitarian Defence of Animals, digital radio in the background, oblivious to the humiliation the Gooners will heap upon my beloved Chelsea. Pessimistic...moi? Abso-fucking-lutely! I won't do the stats again, but if I were a betting man I would put my money and house on Arsenal. This is the best scenario I can come up with. We win 1-0 tonight, so have to defend a slender lead at Highbury in a fortnights time. At Highbury, Arsenal wreak terrible vengeance on my team, equalising within 5 minutes of the start and then scoring 2 late goals in the last 5 minutes, just to ensure our wounds are fatal and we cannot fight back. Then our season is over, and I can retreat into a world of apathy, occasional delight at victories over lesser teams and my arteries can begin to fur up at a lesser rate. The glass is definitely half empty on this one.

After DC had finished shouting, I went in and saw Teenager and Baby. I told them they would still have their parties etc, no matter what DC threatened. Teenager almost gave me a hug, but not quite - Baby still likes her cuddles. It was a nice moment. Of course DC knew I'd do this as it's our good cop/bad cop routine....she hasn't cottoned onto the fact that I'm good cop most of the time.

Maybe more musings later

Jack The Grocer

Noisy!

Aaah...DC returns from work and the peace and quiet of study is broken up by the dulcet tones of DC in full hypersonic mode berating Teenager for the state of her room and for watching Friends all night long (we're all fans). so no sleepovers, and no birthday party is the threat line running tonight, even Baby is worried her social events are about to be terminated abruptly. Tonight I am going to be their hero......

Later, Jack the Grocer (and Cool Dad)

A quickie...

to test a profile change so that my anonymous email shows on each entry.....like I said I'm still learning this stuff. Anyway, it was almost exciting at work this afternoon! In my new role I have to focus on all forthcoming planned changes and ensure no conflictys occur which would affect services to our "customers" . Well, today exactly that occurred and I had to act as referee between the 2 teams doing their respective changes . I did what any good ref would do, and bottled it. So both changes go ahead as planned, but with one starting a bit later so that the affect of the first can be determined, plain common sense really. I bet it goes tits up though. Still at least I don't get the blame though because we have investigated the risk, assessed it and then they ignored it, but ultimately the teams decided to take the risk, all I did was advise them to stagger the changes .

Yawn, back to the studying then......I want to do this and get the degree, so that I no longer depend on The Company. Ultimately I would like to teach, adults or students preferably, and perhaps repay the Open University in some way. It is hard to get motivated, but lets just say there are certain people, who when I think of them, motivate me anyway. One friend is very good and a real inspiration to me, who drove me to do this in a nice way (you know who you are, take your bow Mackem-ite), the others are some wankers who I don't want to have to work with, or for, forever. The thought of being free to fuck off and do something else, even for less money, but ultimately challenging and rewarding is what drives me. Not for me, the corporate cock sucking route to an early grave!

There, now I'm motivated to study.....Jack

Back Already

Still being blown away by Evanescence. I think I'm falling in love with the singer Amy Lee, there's just something about her....On the web site for them you can play the videos to the album songs - try "Bring Me to Life" and especially the "band" version of My Immortal. Another band shoved my way is Good Charlotte - not as immediate as Evanesence but a promising sound. It seems my pre-conceptions about contemporary music may be stereotypical and well... just plain wrong. Frankly if this doesn't move you then you have no musical soul! I tell you, we need XFM and Virgin FM to be national so that poor music starved souls can listen to top stuff wherever we are. When will this digital stuff be put in cars, and mixed in with mp23 players. At the moment I listen to R5 Live, or R2. Everthing else where I work and live is just sanitised, mass produced, safe playlist bollocks served up by ex-hospital DJ's (who deserve everything bad that happens to them, wankers)

Just tried an Orange Kit Kat - wow, normally I would say that good things should be left alone, but this.......this absolutely works 100%.....the mint one tastes naff though. Why am I always hungry though? I did the Weight Watchers thing last year and never felt hungry, but now I dip in and out of it I always seem to be hungry...the mention of bacon rolls in my previous post definitely didn't help..........

As you may be able to tell, work is boring me at the moment :-)

Bollocks

Golf can be a cruel game, which I suppose is its appeal. I played yesterday in a Corporate event at Super Posh Golf Club in Super Posh Village. It was a good event, bar one major irritant - I play like a complete wanker. It was hosted by some of our suppliers, and the main guest for the day was a European Tour Pro, who now spends most of his time doing media work, including Sky. He is a nice guy, and has a fabulous way of remembering everyones names - I know it's just a technique , but when someone like that calls you by your name it does make a difference to the way you feel. Anyway, he played 3 holes with each group, and up until he joined the group I was in I had been playing steadily and was on target to come back with around 30-32 points. He joined in , and at that very moment I decided subconciously to play like I'd never picked up a club before! The minute he left, my normal game came back in and I scored 2 points on each of the last 3 holes! What the fuck is that about? Because of this I got the "hacker" prize at dinner afterwards, which is better than nothing I suppose, and I finished (not last by any means) with a respectable total of 26 points , which considering I failed to score on 4 holes isn't too bad . Why then do I feel like selling my clubs and getting into gardening or sopmething non-competitive then? I won't of course, but I have pretty well made up my mind not to go on any more of these events. You do get to play nice courses and eat nice food, but it just gets terminally soul destroying when you see how inadequate you are compared to others. I just can't do the competitive thing with strangers - I have no problem with friends.

So its back to normal slog for the rest of the week, with my weekend in Cornwall (yes, playing golf....yawn) in 2 weeks. Also this week sees the start of a new book on my degree course. This is the philosophical arguments surrounding human treatment of animals, and is written by a strong exponent of vegetarianism, with supporting views from people she admits are extremists for animal rights. This is likely to wind me up. I have no problem with vegetarians, as I don't with black people, muslims, catholics, tall people etc etc as long as they don't try and force their views upon me, especially by adopting some philosophical moral high ground. I'll let you know if she manages to change my views, but I wouldn't hold out much hope, like a lot of meat eaters the thought of no bacon rolls is too much to bear.

Hmmm, so the Israelis killed the spiritual leader of Hamas. A lot of people seem upset by this, as if justice had been bypassed. Well, have they forgotten Madrid already then? Terrorism is unacceptable, no matter what or how noble the the cause is. Hamas would stand a better chance of getting what they (and the Palestinians want) by entering into political dialogue. Constantly blowing up people, especially those who aren't active miltiarily just winds the Israelis up and then they retailate with more violence. I know that Sharon is a hard line politician who won't give any ground, but the mood in Israel is changing and he won't be around forever. Talk now, build confidence and share knowledge and culture on BOTH sides and by the time Sharon has gone there might be a base on which to build a mutually aceptable peace. Quite frankly though this "leader" didn't give a shit about ordinarly peoples lives, so why should anyone care what happened to him. I don't - and people like him - known organisers of terrorism now know they can't flaunt their blatant militancy in front of everyone. Again, live by the sword, die by the sword.

And so it ends for today, unless I have something to add tonight. If little Miss Veggie is annoying me I may use that as an excuse to log on and rant, or even just ponder.......

Cheers, The Grocer

All Quiet.........

Didn't play golf in the end yesterday - weather was just too shitty. What a depressing spell of weather, I mean if you were planning to get married yesterday you'd have been well pissed off with the crap served up all day wouldn't you? It would certainly ruin my big day.... Today is Mothers Day , so we had the obligatory pub meal, which to be fair was nice. DC works every other weekend, so today she worked from 07:00 until midday - I guess a decent meal cooked by someone else was the least she deserved. I probably can cook, but to be honest it isn't something that drives me much. When I have cooked I have never felt like eating afterwards. Maybe because I pick at things all the time I am cooking, or maybe just because having done all that you just lose your feeling of hunger. The "artist" doesn't hang their own paintings on the wall - how pretentious was that! So tonight is studying, which is a struggle because Philosophy seems so vague sometimes. This is a struggle tonight.....I have a day off tomorrow, maybe I need to have a day out to rejuvenate my mental being. Hope I can do better on my return :-(

Saturdays Here

First things first, thanks to Rob (take yet another bow) for popping over last night. He gave me the Evanescence album on mp3 - yes thats naughty from the copyright perspective, but the fact is I will go and buy the album. First listen suggests this is right up my street. Oddly enough Teenager likes them as well, so does Baby, but I'm confident that when they cotton on to the fact they are a serious and good rock band then their flirtatious nature means they'll move onto something else. They have restored some of my faith in todays bands, check them out at

www.evanescence.com

It's Saturday. I didn't tell DC about this blogging lark, I did try but she was socially relaxed last night after I got in from work, and "tired and emotional" when I got in from the pub. Using my GOGB Mood Calibration Gauge I decided that the risk of disapproval, misunderstanding and outrage whilst she was in this mood was too great. I might just forget the idea. Plus she had a disagreement with Teenager last night and seemingly Teenager gave her a close match in the battle of wills. Teenager wanted to go shopping with "friends" yesterday - thats friends as in "boys - yes Teenager is a girl, I had tried to keep gender anonymity, but it's not possible, and anyway most of you would have guessed that. It's a damning indictement of society that we let her real girl friends parents make the call as to whether we would allow this excursion. In fact DC and I were happy to sanction this, Teenager would be with her friends, and just meeting up with these boys, but the other parents were not happy. Are we cossetting them too much? I guess the Soham thing cut us all a little deeper, and now we err on the side of caution a little too much. Teenager is not happy though, and is showing the signs of being a top sulker. In fact I think we gained little or no respect by allowing ourselves to fall in with the concensus. The other parents are friends and I suppose the best method is to work on them from our own more liberated angle. Teenager is in bed, sleeping for England....I'm proud she is holding that tradition!

The pub was a laugh as normal. It's a typical country pub, and all you can hear is the clink of glasses and the sound of people talking - no music or loud fruit machines. The Governor is a decent bloke, albeit a bit crusty from time to time, but undoubtedly he has built a clientele that generates a friendly and SAFE atmosphere, and that is the appeal. Remember Cheers? "You wanna go where everybody knows your name" - well thats my local and my Friday excursion is my release valve. Now that my working life is that much less stressful I see no reason to cap this valve, better safe than sorry.

So, I am playing golf today, in a knockout match arranged by The Governor. I play off 24, my opponent plays off 3. To those who don't know what this means, well I might as well be playing Tiger fucking Woods. I will lose, thats a given, but I normally wouldn't mind, because it's a game of golf. However today, once again, for what seems an interminably long run, it is windy and rainy again. I can't remember the last time I played without being wet and cold. This is another UK "hate" - the fucking weather - it's miserable and unreliable. You can't plan anything long term because of it. Last year we had the respite of that glorious hot summer, and what did we do.....we moaned. Well, all you moaners, look at it today and ask yourself, what would you prefer? I would love the climate of Northern Spain, where they get enough rain to keep it green, but enough warm sun to be able to plan outdoor activities - which usually means fun. Thats why the Med people live longer - they're not stuck inside on as many cold, windy, grey, rainy miserable days as we are.

Thats it for today - I may post tomorrow, but it's mothers day so I may not get the chance to write. One last thought..

You're a man
You're in an office
You're alone
You fart
It's a good 'un
Within 30 seconds an attractive woman enters the office and wants to talk to you
She then pretends she can't smell it
You pretend you didn't deal it
Why does that always fucking happen?

Later all, The Grocer

Sea Change

Well, tonight I'm going to show this to DC. All the comments from people have been positive, so with any luck she'll also think the same. Who knows - she is a woman after all and ...well irrationality comes with the package doesn't it? Yes...I know women think the same of men, perhaps I'll develop my theories on these fascinating diferences another time. Why "sea change" then? Well in 3 weeks my job has changed completely, and I'm at lunch now and it occurred to me that I can do this at lunch, whereas 3 weeks ago I was lucky to get a lunch. If I did, invariably it was a sandwich in front of the screen, desperately trying to read or reply to emails, delete emails where I had been copied in on peoples inane conversations and answer calls from idiot Project Managers, generally complaining that my team could not do their work. They couldn't see the fact that a days notice was not enough for us to schedule staff, and the concept of "lead times" was not part of their language. Project Managers - absolutely fucking laughable description - Project Dickheads more like. But now....well I have lunch, I come in on time, leave on time and I have to say it, life is much more civilised and less stressful. The thing is...that's how most of the people in the company work, it was only us Operational Muppets that worked excessively long hours, under constant debilitating pressure. Of course I still care for my old team, they were mostly friends before they were colleagues, but my life is very different now, and in a way it's a bit like leaving home for the first time. I am now being judged at 42 by people who don't know me or my history, and that makes things interesting. I find myself matching what I think they think against my own perception of myself. Confused...yep me too, but hopefully I'll make sense of it over time and share it.

Anyway, must dash...more later..tonight is pub night, my weekly binge drink - I may post later...Guinness has a way of feeding the creative bits of my mind!!

Why Oh Why

I was listening to the radio on the way home tonight. These days I like being talked to (or at) whilst driving, so I listen to 5Live. It's an on air Guardian, as opposed to Radio 4, which is more The Daily Telegraph. I guess that makes Radio 1 The Sun then, and Radio 2 ......hmmmm it's not Nazi enough to be The Daily Mail, so perhaps it's The Independent then. Anyway, I digress, the point is they were running an article because now the Government thinks I'm a financial fuckwit as well. Not saitisfied with creaming me for tax from every conceivable angle, they now think I'm being done by Store Cards. Let's get something straight here, if I had more money in my pocket, and wasn't getting stung in the pub, in the petrol station, in the clothes shop, in National Insurance, income tax, COUNCIL FUCKING TAX then I might be inclined to be a saver. In the absence of that I am happy to take Credit from wherever so that I can have my cake now, and worry about it later as it were. It's my choice, not Brown's or Blair's. I have a choice you know, and if I choose to use Store Credit then on my head be it. Mr B(rown or lair) - I can read, and I know the consequences of my actions. Stop patronising me and others like me. It's enough to make me want to eat a Quarter pounder, with a can of Coke, in a Motorway Service Station having just filled up on 4 Star, on my way to drink 10 pints of Guinness, all paid for by my mate Mr. Visa. Yep, as a memebr of the GOGB I meet the entry condition numbers 28 & 29 as well

28.) You will happily cut your nose off to spite your face.
29.) You believe sulking is an attractive trait, and an effective method of getting your own way.

I bought Baby a new mobile phone , a couple of weeks ago. It's on "pay as you talk" and replaced one I got last year that Baby lost, and yes I do get them cheap working for an Operator! It was handed over on the stipulation that it did not leave the house until me and DC (Dragon Control) were happy Baby could be trusted not to lose it. I asked Baby this morning where it was, and got the usual answer "I know where it is", but Baby patently didn't know and then said the phone had been given to DC for safe keeping. I called DC and she said she hadn't seen it. Tonight when Baby came in I went a bit mad, threatening the cancellation of Birthdays and associated parties, and promising no more phones would ever be bought by me. Baby shed some tears (quite a few in fact), and the guilt hit me hard, but I am a bloke from London (originally) - Baby took 30 minutes to find it, and even Teenager helped out. It breaks my heart to act the hard Dad, and even though it works, I feel no better than if I had dished out a smacked arse. On that subject, I haven't done that for many years - I soon found out that my raised voice usually got the message across. It is a "man" thing - our voices just sound more fearsome to kids than a womans. I have a theory, slightly sexist, but hey, as a fully paid up member of GOB and GOGB thats my perogative. Women's voices get higher the more annoyed they get, until they reach a stage where they are hypersonic - the mouth moves, but no human can hear it. Therefore kids, especially older ones and husbands, ignore it.....the dog tends to cower away though as at this point they are the only species capable of hearing our irate fairer sex.

I don't hate all pop music of today. Whilst I might like to give the aura of being Mr Connosseur of Quality Tunes, I am in fact someone whose range of taste runs from Abba to ZZ Top! Some good pop then from today (ish)

All the things she said - TATU (no...not for the reason you think...they were fake lesbians anyway! - pure fun pop)
Freak Like Me - Suga Babes - fantastic sample of Gary Numan's Tubeway Army classic "Are Friends Electric" - inspired!
Round Round - Suga Babes - just a good foot tapper
Hey ya - OutKast - truly excellent retro disco
My Immortal - Evanescence - hauntingly beautiful
Bring Me to Life - Evanescence - the spirit of punk/rock - this band will go far (I hope)
God is a DJ - P!nk - yep she's fit!

Oh yeah, I ordered a new Driver yesterday and guess what! Yep, they tried to deliver today when no-one was in. Here's a simple question thoug - I have to give my phone number when I order on the net - why can't they pass that to the Courier and get them to ring first to see if we're in? That way they could avoid leaving poxy little cards which just serve to wind me up even more, because that was a present I could have opened when I got in, and that would have made me smile, because we all like getting parcels don't we? So to dangle in front of me, by leaving a "we tried to deliver" card, the fact that I nearlyhad a new toy to try out is in fact taking the piss. It would be like a mate in the pub telling you he'd have bought you a pint had you been here 30 seconds ago! Hmmm come to think of it....I do know some people like that as well :-)

This blogging lark is getting addictive! Anyway , that's it for now - I am trying to learn the guitar and promised Rob, my friend and teacher (take a bow Rob) that I would practice my "alternate picking" drill to harden my finger tips up. It's a shame they're not like conkers really, then I could just soak 'em in vinegar overnight to harden them up!

Small things....

Told you I would get to grips with it - I have sussed the time thing out so now it should show the proper UK time on the published bit. I was on LA time, and US English (will someone tell them there is no such thing!) - all sorted, best do some work now, although this is more fun and interesting.

More entry T's & C's...plus ramblings.

24.) You glorify in finishing your dinner first, because it means you've won!
25.) You put things in safe places, so safe they can't be found again
26.) You are the best air guitarist in the world!
27.) You know that no matter what women say, size doesn't matter!


There are more, but I can't remember them off the top of my head. I also have a list of secrets from the wider GOB (Guild of Blokes) organisation (Bev...you've already seen some of these!) - I might be able to share some fo them, but the risk of being expelled is high. Here's just one though - If he says he's only had 2 or 3 pints it means he has had at least twice that and he hasn't included the wine or spirits.

Anyway, thanks to Bev, who made some very kind comments about this blog - I will refrain from using surnames until I am sure that people are happy with this, and that includes me.

A comment on the Budget yesterday - how dull - I haven't looked into it in great detail but it does seem to be giving me - a middle income, driving, drinking man even more of a financial burden. Like I said earler I believe in a fairer society but I do seem to belong in the group of people who subsidise most of that! When I think back to the 70's though that sounds like my Dad speaking. Perhaps that's the destiny for all of us - every day we morph a little more into our parents. Both my parents died in the 70's, Dad was 53, Mum was 43, so there is a big gap between the experience I remember and how I feel now. I dug some photos out (I thought I'd lost all of them) when I moved into the house I live in now - in fact I nearly threw them away inadvertently because they were in an old carrier bag. When I looked at them it was quite emotional because I was looking at my parents for the first time in 22 years - a very humbling and thought provoking moment. What really surpised me though was my youngest (Baby not Teenager) saying how much I looked like my Dad! I never spotted that when he was alive, in fact I could not see any resemblance at all back then. When I looked at these photos though it really did hit home and I have not looked at them sice, I guess I have to reconcile my feelings about what happened when they died - perhaps there hasn't been full closure, after all becoming the "head" of the family and having to deal with 2 younger brothers didn't leave any time for grieving and subsequent closure. Maybe that's the reason I am who I am though, and that if that "closure" hasn't been achieved through the fullness of time then I would not be the person people know (love, like or hate) today. If that closure has occured then perhaps it was just something that organically happened over those 20 odd years. Fuck me - I've gone from the Budget to the Shrink's couch in one paragraph. Sorry if that seemed a little maudling , but this stuff isn't rehearsed or planned.

Took the kids to school this morning - Teenager did not speak to me until in the car, and even then it was to ask me to put Radio 1 on! No way - when in my car you abide by my rules, so I put some proper music on and Teenager was subjected to U2, Blondie (Teenager liked that) and just a smidgen of The Undertones (Teenage Kicks). it's cruel I know, but I do get a kick from tormenting Teenager and it's developing into an interesting battle of wills, of which I know I will win until Teenager leaves home. No doubt when Teenager puts me in a home, or a granny flat then revenge will be sweet! Baby just smiles and says that daddy's music is cool. I can see the inexorable passage of time moving Baby to the inevitable Teenager II but whilst Baby is still at junior school I can make the most of an ally! All it takes is some chocolate and I am the best Daddy ever. How good would that be when dealing with adults if it was all about bribes....what do you mean it already is :-)

More later perhaps...........

GOGB

Thats the Guild of Grumpy Blokes. T's and C's....

1.) It's not a secret society or anything sinister - qualification is automatic after 40
2.) In some extenuating circumstances then entry may be allowed at an earlier age (see below).
3.) You think Technology sounds great, but are constantly disappointed by it
4.) You love gadgets but have to hide them, or buy them and smuggle them into use
5.) You hate Technology and know it's all crap
6.) You hate gadgets and gladly bumble on through life without being assaulted by information on every front.
7.) You like being uncontactable
8.) You have to lie about buying new golf clubs, or any associated sport or hobby equipment
9.) You believe there is a Ministry of Crap Design
10.) Today's music completely confuses you because there is no tune
11.) You think Boy and Girl bands are production line talentless pap
12.) You think Girl bands are justifiable because they do look hot!
13.) You like the idea of PC, but don't practice it religously - if someones a wanker you will call them that
14.) You grit your teeth when asked to do the shopping
15.) You pretend to be re-contstructed New Man
16.) You pretend not to look at other women
17.) You have gone into the back of a car whilst letching at a woman on a hot day (instant entry for this) and then lied to your partner about how it happened
18.) You don't get Alcopops
19.) What the fuck is Bo Selecta about then!
20.) You know or work for a David Brent
21.) You think todays footballers are lightweights compared to the old days
22.) You are a letch, without a doubt , and are happy to admit this
23.) You are a letch, without a doubt, but dare not admit this!

More to follow.............

An email - that means a reader!

Blimey tonight I received an email from someone asking me to add a bit more contextual information about myself - which means someone other than me has read this. Why that excites me I have no idea, perhaps at my age, and with my demeanour (grumpy in a happy sort of way) it's nice that someone took the time. So, I am married, for the second time, but who isn't on at least number 2 when they get to their 40's? It seems to me that more and more are on number 3 or more these days. My theory is that we cheapen love via our diet of sensationalism and celebrity, and our "information rich" society. We know we have choices now, they're in our face at every turn, whereas back in the early and mid 20th century perhaps the awareness or societal acceptance of choice wasn't readily available to most. I also have 2 children, one almost a teenager and the other is nearly 8. I , of course spoil them rotten, mainly because I can. I won't apologise for that - life's too short and if I lose my job or die then cloth will be cut accordingly. In the meantime "make hay whilst the sun shines" seems a good maxim to me. One thing about the teenager though - was I really like that? All that is important is music and magazines and the opposite sex - which was the least important thing a year ago. Why don't I remember being obsessed by music and fashion? Why do I remember my Dad as always being cool, whereas my teenager thinks I am as uncool as it possible to be. The other day Teenager described "Bank Robber" by The Clash (sorry to patronise) as "old fogies music". I was apoplectic with rage and indignation - when all I hear is Britney Fucking Spears, Christina Bloody Aguilera, some wanker called 50 cent (wouldn't have got 10 bob in my day - ohh that was old wasn't it?) and Eminem (yeah i liked Stan, but everything else sounds exactly the same). I told Teenager that 50 Cent and Eminem weren't really relevant to their life, being from London (a middle class part) originally, and now living in a 4 bed detached house that I have worked my nuts off to pay for. "Irrelevant" was the paraphrased answer I got back - with no reasoning behind it. So, I have taken it upon myself to torment Teenager at every opportunity. Ever seen the Catherine Tate Show (BBC2 Mondays) - she does an excellent caricature of a teenage school girl (younger than the equally brilliant Vicki Pollard in Little Britain) who just retorts with "Am I bothered? Do I look bothered? Is this face bothered?" - Teenager hates it, so i do it all the time - a small but growing pleasure in my life.

I had pizza tonight - it was not low fat, low carb, low sodium. It had peppers, pepperoni and cheese and tomato - not quite the 5 portions of fruit and veg the Ministry of Health Facism recommends - it tasted fucking marvellous! Oh yeah - finally got the assignment done - it will be a crap mark, but hey who said doing a degree should be easy? I'm in a good mood - funny just because of an email so perhaps I'll share some secrets from the Guild of Grumpy Blokes tomorrow ....

We're not babies!

I am pissed off with the nanny state in the UK at the moment. When I voted for New Labour I thought we might move towards a more equal sopciety where those that can't are looked after, while those that won't are marginalised. Undoubtedly things are better for a lot of people, even if on my salary I am worse off - the price for a better society is worth some sacrifices and I'm not moaning, although as white, middle aged, objectively middle class man I am hit the hardest from every angle. But what I am getting fucked off with is the constant "nanny" state attitude of this government. All we seem to get these days are information directives about what is bad for us, and how we need to behave better in order to live longer.

Example 1:

Macdonalds, Coke, Pepsi, Pizza Hut are all under fire for making us a nation of lardy arsed bloaters apparently. On the other hand we have more cases of anorexia and bulimia than ever before, because we live in a society that treasures skinny bony women, and chest hair free, muscle bound blokes. Fuck that - the odd burger or pizza isn't going to hurt. If people want to live this way, and die through obesity caused ailments then fucking let them - it's their body, their choice. The state has no business interfereing with them - educate, don't regulate.

Example 2:

Now its the turn of "binge drinking" to be the latest eveil. Apparently my 5 or 6 pints of Guinness, folowed by half a bottle of red after the pub categorises me as a binge drinker. Bollocks! I'm like a lot of people who work long hard hours through the week, thanks to the governments work ethic mentality, for an employer who expects extra hours from people for fuck all. I don't drink at all during the week because I want to keep my job, and be able to do it properly. But on a Friday, thats my time, and I will have a few beers with mates to wind down. I don't get nicked, I don't fight, I don't puke, and I don't riot in Town centres - I do have a good laugh, and surely that has greater health benefits than the government state? I just wish the governement and the scientists would shut the fuck up. Here's a thought - let pubs open as long as they want, let them welcome children and families, encourage a sensible routine of drinking - Christ isn't that the European model, where they don't have the same alleged issues? Another example of this governments nannying "Little England" mentality.

I could follow this with a load of other examples but you get my drift. I like the odd burger, the odd beer, I used to like the odd smoke (quit 2 years now, but respect the right of others to indulge in the odd lung torpedo if they want to), and I like to drive my car - its fun, comfortable, with good loud music I can sing to - try that on a bike or a fucking bus! Leave me alone New Labour, without people like me paying their way, and voting for you then you'll be out on your arse

Nothing seems appropriate

After yesterdays events, everything I write seems a bit trivial. If it was ETA then thats a massive own goal, if it was Al-Quaeeda then then they are building up a level of hate and distrust towards muslims that can only lead to bad things. Either way, the communties who support these wankers need to do something to pressurise them to stop. Remember the IRA, a buinch of shit neck terrorists carrying out bombings and attacks, ultimately under the umbrella of religion. Is it any wonder people don't believe in a God. When I finally go, if he/she/it exists I look forward to some interesting philosophical discussions with them around morality. Now the IRA bomb attacks have stopped, but the maiming, the punishment beatings go on. Like all terrorists, ultimately they are just mindless, brainless, dickless wankers - frankly they should be shot on sight. I remember the do gooders wringing their hands over the shootings in Gibralatar of IRA personnel who were there preparing to bomb innocent people. They lived by the proverbial sword and died by it. Message? If you're a terrorist then prepare to die. Fuck me, I'm a socialist and I'm saying fuck justice for these idiots - summary justice is all they deserve.

I had a shit game of golf yesterday - why do I bother (answer because every now and then a shot comes out like Tiger would play it, and it instantly erases the bad shots before it). Top cap it all Chelsea drew Arsenal in the Chamions (sic) league - they've beaten us 3 times this season, and in 16 games we've lost 11 and drawn 5 - doesn't auger well does it? I'll have a drink tonight (golf comp tomorrow), and spare a thought forn those who died, or were injured yesterday - shallow, but I can't think of fuck all else at the moment. Hope I can make the next post happier.

I guess this probably thinks its 3 in the morning :-( Anyway, just a brief one for now. Whatever I said about work must have been spotted because today has been hectic (well in comparison the last 3 weeks), so any further rubbish will have to be spouted tonight. Well.....the assignment has started badly. I have all the ideas, but putting them down into some sort of understandable and coherent essay seems to be escaping me. Perhaps after some Guinness and/or wine on Friday night I might get some inspiration. I can't have too much because I have a game of golf on Saturday morning - yep thats how dull I am! I would never have thought all those years ago when I was a gob-shite teenage punk/hippy/rocker, and a smart arse 20something new romantic/hippy/rocker that I would succumb to this apparent game of the middle classes. However if you think golf is a middle class game then perhaps you're the stupid ones not me. Most of my mates who play are normal geezers, with normal jobs, fears and aspirations. We just happen to be a bit grumpy with it!

Yes, I watched the game. I tried not to, but as the assignment was going badly I found myself creeping into the bedroom to watch it covertly. We drew 0-0 for those who care, but it was fucking painful. We were dull, boring, uninspired but uttlerly professional. Sometimes, just sometimes it would be nice to see them really dish out a thumping to someone. All the fuss on 5 Live was about the Glory Hunters and their dismal failure last night. The thing is I quite like United when they're struggling, it's Arsenal I hate. Christ, the idea of meeting them in the next round, or God forbid the final does fill me with dread.

Time problem

What is it with the time on this system? Is is LA time - coz I am writng this at 13:30 UK (i.e proper ) time?

New Life?

`Aaah....lunchtime. Today was almost exciting, in that 2 people actually called me , but only one was work related. I also had a meeting which went on for 90 minutes, but I starngely don't remeber much about it! Three weeks ago, my job meant nothing but back to back meetings, arse kickings, constant phone calls and 200 emails a day. Now.......2 phone calls, 1 meeting per week, and 20 emails a day. A big change, and someone likened it to coming off drugs. When you're an "operational" manager it is nothing but stress all day long and you kind of get used to being pilloried from all directions. This new "quietness" is very strange, not like the old life at all. I do believe very strongly in fate and maybe this is all part of the design for my life.

So tonight my team (Chelsea) plays in the Champions League against VfB Stuttgart. We are 1-0 up from the first leg, but I've supported them for over 30 years now (gulp) and I think we have a talent for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory like nobody else. I won't watch the game, or wear any of my Chelsea shirts during the game, because I firmly, but undoubtedly and unjustifiably, believe that I am the kiss of death upon the team. So, whilst my heroes(sic) are playing their £40k per week hearts out, I shall be locked in the spare room, reading Philosophy texts, trying to work out how to cobble together the next excuse for an OU assignment (arguments about religious persecution and the nature of belief). All the time pretending to ignore the score from Stamford Bridge, but surrepticiously checking the internet all the time. It's as if my direct act of observation or support acts like a hex on the team, but if I sneak a look at the score then the powers that be won't notice and therefore will not cast their evil spell upon the team. How bloody childish and stupid is that? To reduce a game of skill and passion to whether or not "God" or whoever notices my overt tokens of support! Maybe it's a bloke thing.....

Just a quickie then, as promised - Iraq War bullet point view - fully justified on the reason for regime change alone. I do mind being lied to by the UK government about WMD, but the right result was achieved. If we as a society, and I mean the "west" ignore twats like Hussein then we have learnt fuck all from WWII. But, those patronising bastards like Blair and Bush should be thrown out at the next elections. I would much rather had someone who had the bollocks to stand up and just say "Saddam is a wanker, and we don't like him, so we're gonna turf him and his cowardly arse licking supporters and cronies out on their arse" ..........yeah that would have worked for me. It might have upset the chattering classes and bleeding hearts, and given the Daily Fascist another excuse to dig at Labour but I think most sensible people would like that level of honesty. I may elaborate in the future.......

Apparently because this is a free blog I can't put any pics up, but links are OK, so slowly but surely I am learning this stuff. If anyone has any useful info on blogging (how to's, where to's etc ) then email me - you never know I might even reply.

Ok - the email is grocerjak@lycos.co.uk - thats all anyone needs for now. Over time, as I gain familiarity with this lark I will start to jazz it up a bit, and allow areas for comment. I am aware of the need for debate, as I'm currently doing a Philosophy course with the Open University as part of a degree that has fuck all to do with my job! And if you don't like a bit of working class langauge...well you know where you can go! So, I love philosophical argument on serious subjects, and stupid arguments over trivial subjects. If you can define the difference to someone who cares about any subject then you're a better person than me.

So, I work for a big company, and until recently enjoyed (sic!) the title of UK SomethingorOther Manager, so I'm not a total technology fuckwit. In fact I know all about how networks, computers and especially how the Internet works. Believe me, it is very arse numbingly dull indeed. But then I reckon most jobs are, even the glamorous ones like Airline pilots are being de-skilled to bus driver level (no offence to bus drivers). Over the years I enjoyed being an engineer, but like most greedy sad wankers I jumped at the chance of being a manager, the lure of the filthy lucre finally making my mind up. No pressure from Dragon Control, honestly. 2 weeks ago, we had another one of those interminable re-orgs, in which they sound off about the joys and needs of change, how the business only survives by being leaner/fitter/anorexic, how it is a chance of developing people into new roles, the need to be flexible etc etc....normal management gobbledygook bollocks talk in other words (aka bullshit). I survived this time, albeit in a new role (of which I know nothing - might as well have asked me to fly a fucking 747), but some of my closest colleagues didn't, and for them I am sad. But the people left now just feel like they are on some sort of career "death row". Waiting for the Sword of Damocles to catch them next time. Sometimes I wonder if those who went aren't better off, inasmuch as at least the decision and uncertainty is over. This is beginning to sound like a ramble, and I'm honestly not that miserable, but then most songwriters write better sad/angry sings than happy ones....don't they? Anyway, stick with my ramblings, they will be a bit eccentric and disjointed at first, but as i get the hang of this, they should improve. Time now 21:45, despite whatever bullshit time the blog says I posted it.

Hmmm...new to this. Actually got the inspiration from the fine "Where is Raed" blog. I can't say I think Mr Pax is always right, or that his points are my cup of tea, but at the end of the day (no more cliches..ed) he has got balls and his insight during the Iraq War (my views later) was truly gripping. I will put a link on when I work out how to. Like most Grumpy Old Men (GOM's?) I am also a tight fisted so and so and so have only free emails - when I feel brave enough I'll publish an address for anyone who feels they want to abuse me! Already unimpressed by the fact that thi first entry says i posted it at 12:20pm - yeah like I'm that sad. If I was pissed then perhaps I might think about it but my typing is crap after a few pints of Guinness or some "Vin Rouge" (pathetically trying to sound educated).

And so it starts here........who am I? A disgruntled 42 year old man, who has been left of centre for some years but is now very tired of the way we live and work in the new nanny state called the UK! So this will start as a general moan blog of someone about to qualify for the Grumpy Old Men's club, but also for someone with passion and principles (albeit loose ones), who loves art (well some of it - not wanky lights being turned off and on in a bloody room), music (no, not boy bands or girl bands, but those who write or perform with genuine passion and belief, even with limited talent), footie (a real Chelsea fan, through thick and thin and mostly thinner) and loads of other stuff, but who also dislikes loads (snobs, Arsenal fans, crap design, crap technology, bad laws, bad politicians, tabloid newspapers especially the Daily Fascist). You won't agree with some, you might agree with some, some will bore you, some will annoy you, some will be funny, some mundane - just stick with me and comment freely :-)