Rain Rain Go Away

The forecast for next week has improved, as I thought it would. We are now at the mix of cloud and sunny spells stage, with highs of around 19 degrees, which is very acceptable. In fact last year it rained every day, but only at night. It seems that most of the rain in Spain does hit the centre and northern parts a bit more regularly. I hadn't really noted how close the southern coast was to Africa, but then Geography was never my strong point.

Mind you it is pssing down here today, which means golf is likely to be off later. Myself and The King had hoped for a last practice round before we went, plus I have just got my first choice driver back from having a stiffer shaft fitted and had hoped to try it out. Oh well, looks like I'll have to take both drivers, just to cover all bases. It is pretty shocking service from Ping (the makers of the club). I sent it to them on March 13th, via my local club. I got it back yesterday! 47 days to re-fit a new shaft. The thing is that Ping insist on this and don't allow club pro's to carry out repairs in their name, or on their behalf. Some sort of delusion about providing a Rolls Royce service, and paranoia about counterfeiting. Well Ping , the service this time was closer to that of Lada than RR. If you insist on providing repairs/upgrades at your UK HQ, then your turn around has to be much faster than this. I will be writing to a Golf magazine to highlight this. Great Clubs - shite service!

A few points.

Chicken Gooner - so sorry for your bad news. I'm always around if required.

Read Croxy's latest but one posting, from the link on this page. The story of the 57 year old man held at immigration in the US for an unpaid bill in a DIFFERENT country is outrageous. The US is now out of control, and we should boycott visiting the place. I know I'm going in the summer, but it has cost a lot and is a ONE-OFF. To treat the citizens of its alleged closest ally in this way is a disgrace, and the new £75 visa (per person per year) proposal will severely dent peoples desires to visit them. All in all their tourist industry will suffer badly from Europeans going elsewhere as a whole - good, they deserve it.

As for the soldiers who took photos of naked Iraqi prisoners, simulating blow jobs etc. Thanks - thanks for destroying the moral high ground, which was at least a redeeming feature of the continuing presence. I know the yanks don't understand this word - but they are Wankers. Somehow, I don't imagine British soldiers doing the same. Or perhasp they just aren't stupid enough to get caught.

Finally, what will all of the thousands of Michael Jackson fans showing their support for him do, if he is found guilty? Will they hear the cheerful noise of the Humble Pie lorry as it pulls up outside their houses ready to deliver them a big slice! Or will they try and justify it by his apparent traumatic childhood. I watch with interest.....

Oh, and the driver of the car that hit the pub last week? He was drunk. 'Nuff said.

Later, Grocerjack

Thank God for Virgin Radio………..


…..and 5 Live! Without these 2 marvellous stations to listen to at work, I would have probably jumped from the window by now. Alright, this job is less stressful, but fuck me I’m bored. I’m definitely not the sort of bloke who can work away in a back office. I miss my old team. They were a bit maverick, slightly whiny in the team meetings, but it was a bit like Auf Wiedersehen Pet. When the chips were down, the team would always pull together, put ego’s aside and come up with a solution.

Anyway, in their different ways the stations have kept me from sliding into a deeper depression. Virgin deserve to be applauded for hitting my musical buttons around 90% of the time, and 5 Live for keeping the conversation levels and subjects to a level that challenges me. I would drop everything tomorrow to work for either one!

We had a quote for some new fencing in the garden earlier this week. The bloke who quoted us is also the bloke who does our garden monthly (yes, I am lazy, but gardens are for sitting in, drinking, eating and enjoying, not for continually tending to!).

Anyway in Corporate terms I think the bloke is trying to move away from his “core” business and diversify into the “external household leisure facility: boundary control” market. He quoted for 2 panels (6’ x 4’), and 3 Trellis panels and posts (6’ x 6’). The price….£425! If it wasn’t true I would have dropped to the floor laughing. This is the imaginary conversation I so wanted to have.

Scene 1 : Jack’s “external household leisure facility” aka “The Garden”

GardenAgent: Ok Jack, the quote is for 2 high quality, pre-treated, warp free, non-transparent, organic wood, external household leisure facility system boundary panels, plus associated support infrastructure beams. Also included in the price are 3 sections of the latest high tech, leading edge technology, partially transparent, free airflow, wind resistant, ultra lightweight, organic wood, external household leisure facility dividing system panels and associated support infrastructure beams. £425 in total, including procurement, delivery, configuration, pre-implementation testing, change control, implementation, post implementation testing. An annual support contract is available at a small extra cost.

Jack: How much? Are you pulling my pisser? What’s in the leather case?

GardenAgent: This, Jack is an example of the quality of both products. Would you like to see them?

Jack: You have a section of fence panel and trellis in a case?

GardenAgent: fence?…trellis?......sorry…you mean external household leisure facility boundary system panel or external household leisure facility dividing system panel?

Jack: I mean a fucking fence panel or a trellis. What the fuck are you talking about

GardenAgent: Aaah well in light of moving with the times, we have moved on now Jack. What we deliver now is far more than a fence panel. We deliver external household leisure facility systems and processes……..

Jack: So, no more gardening….

GardenAgent: well, to deliver stakeholder value we need to focus on customer and product value

Jack: In what fucking way?

GardenAgent: Well…errr….using the latest technology, leveraging growth by efficient cost management initiatives, using synergistic partnerships with suppliers and developing smoother delivery programmes for seamless transition into the customer premises

Jack: Do these systems have a remote control facility that’s java enabled for remote access from the internet to allow for changes to the settings?

GardenAgent: errrrr…no….what settings…….what’s java……..

Jack: Does it automatically adjust itself for unfeasibly fat pigeons sitting on it, squirrels leaping around on it or foxes trying to barge their way into next doors garden?

GardenAgent: errr…. no

Jack: Does it automatically strengthen itself for extra strong winds, irrespective of the direction, or does it automatically self paint itself each year? Can it make allowances for young nephews kicking footballs at it? Or nieces deciding that it looks like a very nice climbing frame, or because they are trying to catch the squirrel?

GardenAgent: err…… no

Jack: Right, then fucking concentrate on your “core” business and get on with doing the garden…….

GardenAgent: Ok, be like that. Any chance of a cuppa?

I am aware that during this imaginary conversation I turned into Gordon Ramsey! Did you see that the other night - my kind of no nonsense bloke!

I got a quote last night from the local fencing guy. He will only address me as Mr. Jack, which is quite quaint. The cost, for exactly the same work……..£145.

And DC calls me gullible!


Later, Grocerjack

Jacks Desert Island Lists……..

I know that strictly speaking I should only select one of each, but I’m going to choose ten to lessen the restriction. Here goes….

Albums:

Wish You Were Here – Pink Floyd – a masterpiece of understated rock
Remasters – Led Zeppelin – effectively a “best of” album
Is there anybody out there? – Pink Floyd (The Wall done live)
Rattle and Hum - U2 (the gospel version of “I still haven’t found...” is possibly the most uplifting song ever)

This is my Truth, Now tell me yours – The Manic Street Preachers – superb in every detail
Diamond Dogs – David Bowie – futuristic nightmare vision of society – 1984 in song
Never Mind The Bollocks – The Sex Pistols – sums up the era of punk perfectly
The Story of The Clash Volume 1 – The Clash – intelligent music with interesting street and black influences

Abba Gold – Abba - how can this not lift your mood?
OK Computer – Radiohead – Depressing but brilliant

Films:

Pulp Fiction – the best film ever - never ever get tired of watching this
The Godfather Pts 1 & 2 – timeless gangster/family story, chillingly violent
The Truman Show – a very clever story – how far are we from actually doing this?
Full Metal Jacket – the best war film ever, eat your heart out Platoon
The Bounty – a little poetic licence but a fascinating subject and well acted by Mel Gibson and Anthony Hopkins
Notting Hill – for sheer feel good factor
Muriel’s Wedding – great Aussie film. There is barely a character in this film with a single redeeming feature
Schindlers List – should be part of the National Curriculum
The Fisher King – another eventual feel good movie, weird in parts
The Shawshank Redemption – an understated masterpiece

Books:

Inconceivable: Ben Elton – brilliantly written from male and female perspective
Popcorn: Ben Elton – satire of the Oliver Stone/Tarantino films
Dead Famous – Ben Elton – superb satire on and damning indictment of “reality” TV
High Society: Ben Elton – damning indictment of the war on drugs
High Fidelity – Nick Hornby – the life I could have had
Fever Pitch – Nick Hornby – astute observation of life and football
The Hitch-hikers Guide to the Galaxy books – Douglas Adams - a trilogy in 5 parts, a classic
The Dirk Gently Omnibus - Douglas Adams – more from the great man
Wilt – Tom Sharpe – even the film was funny
The Jonah – James Herbert


TV Programmes:

Holding On – 90’s edgy contemporary London based drama – critically acclaimed
Our Friends in the North – as above but based in the North of our country
Conspiracy – the meeting that decided the fate of the Jews in WWII - chilling to the bone
The Day Today – ground breaking comedy – one series only
Blackadder – all superb, a 20th century man in different periods of our history
GBH – Alan Bleasdale – the best of the contemporary playwrights and this showed what a classy actor Robert Lindsay is.
Phoenix Nights – superb piss take on Northern night clubs - unfortunate to be eclipsed by…
The Office – This is brilliantly observed as well
Fawlty Towers – timeless classic
Friends – always watchable, always funny, no slapstick, characters you feel you know, warm

Food:

Chips – they’re NOT fries
Chicken Jalfrezi
Korai Chicken
Brie
French Bread
Smarties
Wine Gums
Bacon rolls
Italian pizza
Haagen Dasz Rum and Raisin Ice cream

Drink:

Guinness
Red Wine
Glen Moray 16 year old single malt
Earl Grey tea
Tizer
Pepsi Max
Gin and Tonic
Marsdens Pedigree
Espresso
Capuccino

Later, Grocerjack

I don't believe them......

According to all the Weather sites, Southern Spain only gets about 5 days rain in May, so unless they're concentrated in 1 week, I think the forecast is as flaky as one of Jeffrey Archers promises. Besides, it's changed from last night to Rain on Sunday, cloud on Monday, Sunny Spells (a real cop out caveat that one) on Tuesday and for the rest of the week. Did I appear to be sulking? Well, in my defence here are rule numbers 28&29 from the constitution of the GoGB

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.

So, in my view this merely reaffirms my own membership within the GoGB. And it feels good to belong.

I played Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd) this morning on the way in. I think this just pips The Wall as my favourite album of all time, and would definitely be on my Desert Island. It lifted the general air of gloom quite a bit, although not totally. The lyrics to the actual track Wish You Were Here have always been a bit of a mystery to me but today they actually became crystal clear to me. As if they summed up my life at the moment perfectly.

So
So you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue sky’s from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.


I think there must be something bothering me subconsciously, but as yet I can't fathom out what it is. Something definitely isn't right though. I'll let you know when i find out what it is, but my suspicions are pointing to dissatisfaction and sheer boredom at work. The Sandman hasn't confirmed the additional functions to my role, and despite my cynicism (in general) I think this was something I would have enjoyed greatly. Similar to the proverbial drowning man grasping at the straw perhaps? Perhaps it's just a general 40-something malaise? You know, the "is this all there is" syndrome.

We have a tapping noise in the bedroom. It's almost as regular as a clock ticking. I spent an hour last night trying to find the source - no luck. Weirdly, like all these noises you think you can determine the direction and the source, but when you look into it the noise seems to emanate from different areas. It’s as if it knows you're trying to find it. Well, I will find the bastard because it is driving me mad. What will happen is it will eventually become a benchmark noise, that is strangely comforting, and eventually like a drug, something that needs to be there for me to drift off. I used to hate the dawn chorus waking me up (I am a light sleeper), but now I love it, especially during the spring/summer months. Why? Because I know I'm still alive. It welcomes the day to me, and for fucks sake, the little bastards sound so damn cheerful, it's hard not be infected by this. On my Desert Island the sound of the sea lapping the shore would send me off, the sound of the birds would wake me up. I will make the Desert Island List on another post.

A strange thing happened on Monday night. At 01:30 in the morning teenager burst into the bedroom. Unfortunately we were both asleep. Fortunately we were both asleep (work it out!). DC can sleep through anything, whereas if a mouse farts in the field behind our house I am awake. DC stirred briefly, I jumped out of my skin. But when I looked at the door she wasn't there. I got up and went to her room. Baby was fast asleep (she has her own room but doesn't like being alone). But teenager was sitting there with the TV on with Friends on DVD, but paused. Bizarre!

Scene 1: Teenagers Room

Jack (angry) : What are you doing?
Teenager: What

Jack (angrier): Errr. what do you think you're doing
Teenager: (no answer just blank stare)

Jack (fucking furious): TEENAGER (raised voice) WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT?
Teenager: Shutup!

Jack (penny starting to drop) : (moves round the bed) WHAT...... (notices that teenager hasn't moved her head or eyes)

Jack(momentarily freaked out) : ...shall I turn the TV off sweetie...
Teenager: I don't know.......(coils up, shuts eyes and falls back to sleep)

Jack (relieved): Night
Teenager: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Scene 2: Jack's bedroom

DC: What was that all about
Jack: She's got your trait .......she's a sleepwalker
DC: Oh well..never mind
Jack (thinks): ....yeah great another sleepwalker to deal with
Jack (says): Maybe she's worried about something
DC: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Jack (thinks) : Thats my sleep over

2 hours later I drifted off for a massive two and a half hours sleep before getting up for work.

You see DC is a "walker". Now it appears that teenager has also inherited that trait. At various times I have stopped DC from going shopping at 3 in the morning...naked (well why would she need clothes when she's asleep), from climbing into the top of the wardrobe (yep, the top) on the assumption she was sorting the kitchen cupboards out and most bizarrely from taking a foot stool into the toilet to get on the toilet, and then to talk to about work that day! As if it was someone she had worked with! In a way, I think it's good I'm a light sleeper because one day I'm convinced she'll try tightrope walking along the roof, or dive out the window in the belief she's an Olympic Gymnast! Whatever, I will keep tabs on them both, but believe me in the early hours of the morning it is a very spooky experience.

I asked Teenager about it yesterday morning and obviously she had no recollection. Weirdly, she thought it was very funny and seemed to view it as an honour that she was like her mum. She was VERY cheerful about this. I just stood there with black rings round my eyes, knackered, irritable, yawning and thinking "Why Me"!

Later, Grocerjack

No point.....

I didn't really pay £600 to go to Spain to get pissed on by more wind and rain. I can do that far cheaper here. I am seriously re-considering whether to go or not. I can write the money off easily enough. But quite frankly if it's going to rain all week then the object has been defeated.

Dunno when I'll write any more because at the moment I'm not in the mood.

Fucked right off, Grocerjack

It's a conspiracy....

On the long range weather forecast for Malaga, it is sunny this week, with rain setting in Sunday - the very day I arrive for my golf week. How fucking unfair is that? If it ends up like my recent trip to Devon then I'm giving up the game. We chose Spain, so that we would have a better than average chance of good weather, but now it looks like it might be better off staying here. I might be jumping the gun here, but it has really pissed me off to see that. All I can hope for is the slim chance that the long range (i.e 10 day) forecast is purely a stab in the dark on the meteorologists part. The company that we booked through have confirmed that we have a room for the last day plus the free round of golf we asked for in compensation for the bollocks flights we ended up with. I suppose that is a small bonus. I just want some more of the weather we had this weekend.

I drove past the pub yesterday, and as is becoming the tradition here, a shrine is being developed for the victims of the crash in the form of dozens of bouquets of flowers. I was right, the dead teenagers were in the back seat of the car. It appears the front seat passenger and driver received only minor injuries. The police have launched an investigation which means that they must believe it was more than an accident. The pub has received structural damage in that the Restaurant wall is severely cracked and I gather this part of the pub might have to remain closed. Again, this appears to back up the view that they were travelling at a very high speed. The pub is on a minor road and this part of it is actually on a sharp-ish bend. The rumour is that the driver will be charged with some ofence which only seems right. Cars don't leave the road early in the morning unless something has gone horribly wrong with the mechanics or if something is horribly wrong with the driver. I might be pre-empting things here, but my suspicion, as with most people in the village is with the driver.

Oh, and on a much happier note today is Baby's birthday. She is 9, so I don't think I'll be able to use the "Baby" tag much more. But to see her bright smiling face when she woke up has brightened up this Monday, irrespective of Spanish weather forecasts. Halfway through the most expensive time of the year and I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Tomorrow is mine and DC's wedding anniversary - 8 years...where the fuck did they go, and can I have them back please? Only Teenagers birthday to go and the credit cards can rest until the BIG holiday to Florida in August. Barely time for them to recover really......

Later , Grocerjack.

So farewell then.....

...Fuckwit, you tried, but at the end of the day (cliche) you weren't up to it. I watched us play today, we played well but lost. The players seem to have lost belief in themselves and only good leadership can bring it back. Fuckwit is a nice guy, polite, always willing to face the media, but tactically he does not have the right brain. Today, in my view , has sealed his fate.

Last night was Dad's Night Out. It was a stunning success, made better by the fact that we did not break off for food. So the conversation flowed, the piss taking was cruel, wicked and very funny. SmallSykes did well to take a lot of stick, he deserves a medal for last night. BigSykes brought his brother along and I think he enjoyed himself. The Lone Ranger was also on top form last night and Strings as well. A top night out. My head hurts today, but then large quantities of the black stuff were consumed last night, but hey its worth it.

Due to the haadache my creative skills are blunted today, however yesterday we had Teenagers boy "friends" around. She was obnoxious , loud mouthed and rude. DC is not happy, neither am I. I think some attitude adjustment is necessary very shortly. She needs reigning in now before it becomes habit.

Sad news as well. On Friday night a car hit the side of the pub at about 1 in the morning. Allegedly it was doing 100mph. Of the 4 occupants 2 survived, 2 died. The 2 dead people were in the back of the car, so I'm led to believe. The Governor was obviously woken by the nose, and he found the debris. He called the police and ambulance to the scene. One of the dead was a waitress in that very pub, a young girl out celebrating her 18th birthday. I can't imagine how the Governor must have felt finding a member of his staff like that. I'm not sure I can picture the girl, but no doubt she has served me at some time with food. This scares the crap out of me. All I can think of is "what if it was Teenager?". I have been there, driven fast to show off when younger, but it seems to me today that we are fundamentally making it too easy for youngsters to own cars. I have no solution, but to me this is a tragic waste. Again, if there is a God, and I'm lucky enough to be allowed in, then I'm gonna be having some very difficult philosophical conversations with him about why he allows things like this to happen.

Later , Grocerjack

Phew.....what a scorcher...

And not before fucking time. Dunno about you lot but doesn't the sun and warmth make you feel just that much better, a little more cheerful and energetic? Well, it does me. I could live with this weather all year round. Would I miss the rain...would I bollocks, let it rain at night and like Northern Spain we'd still be lovely and green, but we could plan things like Barbies, weddings,parties, golf, footie, whatever, in the certain knowledge that a bad day is the exception as opposed to the rule. Same tomorrow and Sunday from what I hear.

I played the Governor today in a matchplay game of golf in the pub competition. You guessed it, I played like a complete hacker. At one point I was digging new ditches for them with my clubs! I must have looked like a fucking windmill the way my arms were flailing around trying to hit that little white bastard. Mind you, one of the women in the group in front was........absolutely drop dead gorgeous. So, I didn't impress her much then!. Anyway the front 9 were crap, but the back 9 were much better but The Governor had won by the 14th hole (5&4) so after that I started to play even better. Perhaps its the "competition" bit that subconsciously I just can't do. Perhaps this happens because I play golf for pleasure, and competition adds a bit of tension and seriousness that maybe just undermines the pleasure aspect for me. Does such a thing as a golf shrink exist?

Tonight would be pub night but DC and the extended Coven have decided to have an impromptu girls night out. So I am lumbered with the kids, plus one of Teenagers mates called Sulky. I am not happy about this because it's just DC's 40th do, part 2. But I'll put up with it on the basis that this is a special week for her. But Friday night is my pub night, the only night I go out with friends. She has several lunches a week with her friends so it's not like I'm being unfair. However, this denies me my weekly Chelsea row with Mr Chelsea, and this week I was well up for it after the debacle of Tuesday. However tomorrow is Dads night out (yep sadly we rotate the girls/dads nights, so DC is also breaking the schedule tonight). No curry this time,just beer, but a depleted attendance. I dunno why but it seems to me that blokes just don't seem to want to go out even just once a month. Some of the excusues have been...feeble to say the least. I mean the GoGB goes out if its way to pre-notify everyone at least 4 weeks in advance of the Dads Night Out. Now, I'm a bloke and this much I know...blokes don't plan more than 2 days ahead, let alone 4 fucking weeks. We just aren't that capable. We're doers, not planners. Now DC can arrange things months in advance with the Coven, the extended Coven or on a really big do The Sisterhood (Extended Coven plus those on the fringes, those they don't know that well, those they've never met but have heard of, those who are invited because they have some salacious gossip, those who were the subjects of the gossip...ad infinitum). Anyway, if we get 6 I'll be happy. The current list is BigSykes (possible), Smallsykes, The Major (will be late), Strings (will be early so he can have an hour to himself without his wife or kids asking him to do things..good man), Me (now nicknamed Lord Farquad by the other Dads - the shortarse from Shrek for the uninitiated), The Lone Ranger and possibly The Hippy ( a new arrival from London, hubby of LittleSis's bestest friend The Henpecker). A bunch of 30/40 somethings, drinking beer, arguing and letching at women we will never, ever stand a chance with, even if we were single.

Sounds good when said like that.

Later, Grocerjack

I just dont get it....

A quiet night in the Jack household. Teenager is locked away in her bedroom as usual, texting, calling, being called and tapping away on MSN. Is it just me, or do I get the impression that when I walk into the room, she shuts everything down real quick? Perhaps it has become her sanctuary. I am torn on whether or not to do some investigation work (I have "sniffing" tools that can even log keyboard strokes, all part of being a former network engineer) on who she talks to, in a paternal protective way, or whether to leave her to her own mistakes. I think prevention is better than cure, and as long as she doesn't find out, and I am covert enough, then surely this is merely prudent policing? I know the human rights bleeding hearts would see this as an invasion of a young adults privacy, but this would probably only be until she's a bit older and wiser? Again, comments are welcomed, in fact invited.

So we watched TV together after I had done my obligatory couple of hours study. 30 minutes of which was a bit of guitar practice - the first for two and a half weeks (sorry Strings - the OU stuff is just a bit harder than anticipated!). I must resolve to do at least 30 minutes per day on the guitar, 30 minutes on the treadmill (a real one, not the work kind!) and somehow fit the hour recommended by the OU in, as well as taking time with DC, Teenager and Baby, whilst keeping the garden in control, doing my shre of the housework and the evening meals. Yeah, we need a change in the rotational period of the Earth to give us a 35 hour day.

Anyway, Friends was excellent, as usual. However people criticise the Yanks, they do very good sitcoms. Where we have fallen into pisspoor slapstick, or flogging the life out of programmes that stopped being funny 5 years ago (Only Fools and Horses, Ab Fab), the Yanks have somehow managed to develop the characters in Friends (and Frasier/Will & Grace/Spin City) into people we feel we know personally. Another feat is the way get the sitcom to work on different levels, which allows Baby to laugh as well as DC and Me. Tonight Teenager, DC and baby were all nearly in tears at Phoebe's wedding with Mike. Completely fictional, but perhaps that is a purely female trait. Immediately DC has followed this up with her obligatory misery hour, Eastenders (repeat on BBC3), followed by ER (on E4+1.....yep we have cable). Maybe it's my age, or the fact that I am an avid news sponge, but there seems enough misery for real in the world, without absorbing fictional misery as well. DC doesn't read the papers, or follow the news so perhaps this is why she has the capacity for misery programmes. Don't get me wrong - I don't just want happy programmes or films - in fact I fully extol good contemporary TV drama (Our Friends in the North, State of Play, Holding On, anything by Alan Bleasdale), or thought provoking films (Saving Private Ryan, The Truman Show, Pulp Fiction - which is the best film ever made!, American Beauty, Jackie Brown, Brassed Off) but these aren't generally year long , every day things. Whatever, it gives me time to disappear and write this, so perhaps there is some purpose.

Tomorrow I am working from home, which means I'll start at around 7, have a pub lunch, finish at around 5, then have 9 holes at the local course. I might be critical of The Company, but the flexible working policy is a great initiative, especially during the summer. In my view most companies could allow this for at least half their staff, saving accomodation costs, increasing productivity and saving the employees travel costs and consequently helping the environment and deceasing the strain on our roads. Can you imagine the panic in the Treasury and with the oil companies if half the working population of Britain started to work from home via Broadband? All that lost fuel revenue, not too mention the lack of revenue from speeding fines and parking tickets. I bet it wouldn't be long before there was a "byte" tax to make up the shortfall, and no doubt some government scientist would produce some fictional report on the environmental and health dangers of High Speed Internet access. The technology for home working is cheap and increasingly readily available with Broadband, so why the take up isn't greater is lost on me. Perhaps they (New Labour and The Companies) don't trust us enough to deliver our work, but surely with sensible management and defined targets, with availability guaranteed during requisite hours, this shouldn't be too hard? Ny own experience, and that of my fellow prisoners.....sorry workers is that our productivity increases when working from home, and we probably work longer hours as well because we don't have the travelling. Home life is better as well because I can fragment the day, take DC for lunch, drop the kids at school,or collect them, be in for the gas man or the plumber, or the geezer who's going to do my garden. A much better work/life balance. We want more!!

Later, Grocerjack

Suggestions?

OK, the email link is fixed now, so anyone wishing to email me should be able to do so. I quite like writing these ramblings/musing or whatever you want to call them. I am conscious of the slightly eclectic nature of the postings, work one day, family the next , or sport and current affairs. I am now wondering whether to fragment them into seperate blogs. My current feeling is that it is easier, time wise, to just write and brain dump anything and everything onto the single site, then people can read or filter out what they want. It would be more logical and tidier to maybe split the subjects types up, but perhaps that's not my nature. Christ, talk about answering your own question! Any views from the few who read this drivel? Email me, or leave a comment, it's always good to hear from people.

The Policemans Daughter sent me this - not very PC, but being a Londoner I found this very amusing.

How to speak Essex


alma chizzit - A request to find the cost of an item

amant - Quantity; sum total ("Thez a yuge amant of mud in Saffend")

assband - Unable to leave the house because of illness, disability etc

awss - A four legged animal, on which money is won, or more likely lost ("That awss ya tipped me cost me a lady t'day") (Lady Godiva = fiver)

branna - More brown than on a previous occasion ("Ere, Trace, ya look branna today, ave you been on sunbed?")

cort a panda - A rather large hamburger

dan in the maff - Unhappy ("Wossmatta, Trace, ya look a bit dan in the maff")

eye-eels - Women's shoes

Furrock - The location of Lakeside Shopping Centre

garrij - A building where a car is kept or repaired (Trace: "Oi, Darren, I fink the motah needs ta go in the garrij cos it aint working proper")

Ibeefa - Balaeric holiday island

lafarjik - Lacking in energy ("I feel all lafarjik")

oi oi! - Traditional greeting. Often heard from the doorway of pubs or during banging dance tunes at clubs

paipa - The Sun, The Mirror or The Sport

reband - The period of recovery and emotional turmoil after rejection by a lover ("I couldn't elp it, I wuz on the reband from Craig")

Saffend - Essex coastal resort boasting the longest pleasure pier in the world. The place where the characters from TV's, popular soap opera, Eastenders go on holiday

tan - The city of London, the big smoke

webbats - Querying the location something or someone is. "Webbats is me dole card Trace? I've gotta sign on in arf hour")

wonnid - 1. Desired, needed; 2. Wanted by the police

zaggerate - To suggest that something is bigger or better than it actually is. ("I told ya a fazzand times already")

Also, the pics of Princess Diana - why are we so bothered? The yanks have put up with us showing the assasination of JFK for years. Are his family and supporters feelings worth less than Di's? The principle is quite simple - if you don't want to see them, don't look for them!

Later, Grocerjack.

A Quickie...

Showed the blog to another work friend today. Private Godfrey is a friend first, colleague second. Whilst my career is best described as waning these days, her career is definitely waxing. She deserves this. I recruited her into the company and we have worked closely for 3 years or so now. She is a very talented person, with a lovely nature and a god awful singing voice. She is also a lightweight when it comes to the drinking side of things. Never mind, I know where to go when I need cheering up.

Welcome to my world Private Godfrey - you are now in my cast list!

Later, Grocerjack

A shocker!

What can I say? We'll start with the birthday first. I got home and DC was ...well.....tired and emotional shall we say. The coven was also there, consisting of The Kings Wife, MiddleSis and LittleSis. They were also in a fairly "socially relaxed" state. I stood and laughed and joked, but the house was a mess with various members of the different broods slowly but surely trashing every section of each room. If I complain I just get the Coven saying "But they're only kids". I cannot win this one, but when you add the noise of the TV belting out Planet Rock (for the Coven are all ex Rock Chicks, except for The Kings Wife - an ex-punk I believe), well the blood pressure slowly but inexorably starts to climb up. I needed to be somewhere else.

I retired to the bedroom, my one and only sanctuary from the horrendous cacophony of noise consisting of a bastardised mish mash of rock music, mobile phone tones, cackling Coven personnel, screaming kids and PS2's. The door closes, I can still hear the row but it is suitably muffled. My TV is on and the footie starts. Slowly my pulse falls , the blood pressure drops, the feeling of sickness in the pit of my stomach slowly subsides. Yes, the noise really gets me that bad. It doesn't happen anywhere else, but in my house, my sanctuary, my bolt hole, it does this every time. Christmas, when all the Clan are down, is a fucking nightmare for me.

Anyway, the match starts, I have my Chelsea shirt on. As I expect for the first 20 minutes we are under the cosh, after all they are the home team. Then they score.

Jack sighs....it's the fucking shirt innit. Jack takes off shirt. Within 2 minutes of said action we equalize! If that isn't empirical proof of my ability to put a hex on the team then I don't know what is. It's a bit cold, but we look good so back goes the shirt.

Half time: 1-1 and we are in the ascendancy and looking very comfortable. The second half starts and.....wait a minute...Ranieri had substituted Gronkjaer for Veron! Veron hasn't played for 6 months or more.

I know the press like Ranieri, and the neutrals as well. I know he likes his "Tinkerman" tag. But I have never thought he was the man to take us to the next level. I think the "Tinkerman" tag shows he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. Don't get me wrong, he's a gent and a nice bloke. He has dignity in spades. But as a football manager a better title would be "Fuckwit".

Veron immediately looks like an impostor, as Monaco payers take the ball from him with ease, and intercept his frankly "gay" passes with ease. Then, just as bizarrely Fuckwit takes off Melchiot, our right back and having a decent game, and replaces him with a striker!. Admittedly this was after Makalele, one of our midfielders had got a Monaco player sent off with a disgraceful piece of play acting. For this alone Makalele should be suspended from our side. He should have been sent off as well, no question. Fuckwit moves Scott Parker from right midfield to right back, but then replaces him with Huth - a good prospect but not ready for this level by a long chalk. The whole balance of the team is now irrevocably damaged. Tactics are indecipherable, players (not the brightest of people) are confused over roles and responsibilities. The team, my beloved team is now broken and with it, my heart.

"Pub team "is now a phrase that sums us up.

Monaco outplay us, motivated by the scandalous injustice of the sending off. They saw the fear in our eyes and they salivated. They gorged on the wounded torso of our team, as it crumbled into pieces and fell apart. They had revenge, and it tasted ..oh so good. They went on to score 2 more goals, and we eventually lose 3-1, leaving a fucking mountain to climb. In 45 minutes Fuckwit has managed to alienate a lot of Chelsea fans. Don't get me wrong, mistakes do happen, but I have yet to meet a single Chelsea fan who understood why he made those changes. It wasn't broke, so why try to fix it? These are my players to leave the club (not all featured last night)

Desailly is over the hill, a shadow of the past great player
Haisselbank - contributes nothing if not scoring - a luxury
Makalele - a cheat - bring in Beckham and give this tosser back to Madrid
Ambrosio - lucky until last night but the 3rd goal showed his lack of ability to keep goal at this level
Geremi - why did we buy him?
Stanic - bye bye
Sullivan - how desperate were we?

Crespo, Veron, Gudjohnson all deserve another season. I will not dismiss Veron last night, except to criticise him for not accepting he was not ready to play. He should have told Fuckwit this, and been honest to himself and the fans. Cole, Lampard, Bridge, Terry, Johnson, Duff, Mutu, Parker and all the others are are our future. Bring on Martin O' Neill or Didier Deschamps. Someone to take us into our bright future.

By the way, this piss take from the BBC amused me.


Lucy, thanks for your comment on Caron Keating. The same sentiment goes to Priceless for her comments via email. You may have a point, but I still think it is mainly because she was so close to my own age and that hits home more and more every time. I also thought she was fairly close to my ideal woman. Someone you could imagine always being positive! To the guy who left me a note in the guestbook. I'm not having a mid-life crisis! I'm having a continuing life crisis! And as for the "closet gay" comment. I could get some references on that one from some of my previous female partners, but I am the soul of discretion. I think you should try and understand the allegorical nature of my language when talking about work!

This has been a big, but enjoyable one...

Later, Grocerjack

Torn...

I am conscious of the fact that I haven't spouted an opinion on topical matters for a while so here goes with some bullet point views. I may elaborate later but time is of the essence....

1. ) Caron Keating's death - sad and tragic, although bemused at why I have reacted like this. She was a very good looking woman, with an amiable and warm personality, but I didn't know her personally. Perhaps it's just when someone roughly your age dies it rams home your own mortaility a little bit more. She was 41 - that's no age to die.

2.) Israel and their Plan for the Gaza Strip - yep, why not just further instil a culture and environment for more terrorism. These people are desperate and to them life is cheap because you have cheapened it for them. Why not just partition the West Bank etc off, give it to them, unconditionally and make the best of whats left. Put a wall up then if they still can't stand being next to you. Surely normal Israeli people have had enough by now. I'm not advocating a moderate approach here, but bombing and shooting the shit out of each other is going to work...ever. It's just a war of attrtition in the end.

3.) Spain pulling out of Iraq - hmmm a bit torn on this one. They are supposed to be allies, and this smacks of giving in to the terrorists. But then what do you do? Allow them to keep killing your citizens. I think Spain have decided to put their interests first. After all, they have done their bit, as have we. Perhaps it's time for us to pull out, or at the very least for the US to hand control over to the UN. I admired the French for not getting involved. It takes balls to stand up to the US under threat of economic sanction, but then they still have balls. The UK was castrated sometime ago. We are America's eunuch.

4.) Beckham - come to Chelsea son, come to Chelsea. This is a real tabloid hatchet job. Expose the affair (alleged), ruin the marriage, upset the kids, destroy reputations, demoralise the best footballer we have, feign sorrow over his loss of form, ruin lives.....SELL MORE PAPERS! Again, all I can say is WANKERS. The day I meet an honourable tabloid journalist is the day I skate across the icy wastes of Satans Little Hothouse.

5.) Referendum - bring it on and lets vote on the Euro as well. We are closer to Europe than America, and I for one could do with a bit of the French/Spanish/German/Italian attitude to life. And I wouldn't have to pay to draw my money out when on holiday!

Thats all for now, at a Seminar tomorrow, yup more Corporate Cheerleading no doubt.

Later, Grocerjack

Big Day, Big Night

Yep, its finally here. The day I've been dreading and looking forward to at the same time. Tension has been building for the last week or so, and well, there's no way I can avoid it, no matter what I feel inside. I am going to have to throw away all trepidation and just get on and try and celebrate. Yep, you've got it, todays is DC's 40th Birthday. Actually she seems pretty cool about it all, but we'll see how that changes after the undoubtedly copious amount of Champagne and Wine she's gonna drink today. Still she wanted "low key" and that's what I've provided. Teenager actually spoke civilly to us both this morning, I think even she understands the milestone that DC has reached. Baby just loves a birthday, no matter whose it is! She is at the age where life is completely untroubled. The still completely innocent age. My envy shows yet again.

Oh yeah and there's a game of footie on tonight involving another love of my life. Chelsea vs Monaco, Champions (sic) League Semi-final 1st leg. Yes, I will actually watch this one tonight, because even if we lose then we have another leg at home in which to make amends. I will be is Spain for that game, and The King, The Major and The Worrier are not going to let me hide that night. Oh dear the OU course falls even further behind schedule. But to be truthful it is very dull at the moment and it's a real job to motivate myself to study. Watch how that changes if we concede a goal tonight!

Later, Grocerjack

Daylight Robbery?

I am going on a golf week to Spain on May 2nd. I booked this about 10 months ago to ensure myself and my mates got the dates we wanted, the tee times we wanted and some reasonable flights. The company we booked through did a fantastic job last year, but this year they came back with an outgoing flight of 16:45, meaning arrival in Spain at 20:00 (local time), which means by the time we have cleared customs, collected our kit and got to the car hire place it would be 21:00 on a good day. Then collecting the car, loading it up and driving the 25 or so miles to the hotel will mean AT BEST we'd be there at around 22:00. A bit shit really! Then checking in and going to the rooms means there hardly likely time for a beer before it's time for bed!

So I asked them for a better outgoing flight, accepting the incoming flight departure time of 18:00 as not being great, but then its on the way home so who cares? They came back with an 08:00 outbound flight, so an early start, but we'd be there early and be able to relax on the first afternoon before our game on the Monday. For this they charged us another £75. We duly paid.

Today they called to say the tickets were in place, but the times had changed. OK, I thought, maybe an hour or so....but no! We are now back on the original flight out, but we are not liable for any refund! Apparently the airlines can do this because it's within a 12 hour window of the original flight so it's not a "major" disruption! So we paid an extra £75 for our original flight and we can't do a fucking thing about it or even get the money back! Start of holiday bollocksed up, no recourse. Wankers. They have effectively picked our pockets in full view of us and we can't do a thing!

The return flight has also been moved to 21:55! Great so now we're back in the UK at fucking midnight! Which means I'm not home until 2 in the poxy morning. Which means the course I'm booked on the next day is now going to have to be canned. Worse than that, we're out of the room at 10, but can't go to the airport until at least 18:00, unless our idea of fun is sitting in Malaga airport watching the fucking planes (actually I wouldn't mind that but the others would never let me forget it!). So what do we do, go to Marbella with our cases packed and our golf stuff in the car. Call me old fashioned, or just plain suspicious but we might as well put a sign on the car saying "Golfers out and about - £5 grands worth of gear in here!"

I was remarkably calm and kept it in for a couple of hours. I told the others (The King, The Major and The Worrier) who weren't happy, but I rang the tour company back and asked them to arrange a room for us to leave our stuff in on the day and to arrange a game for us on our departure date - free of charge. It might just be enough to sooth our collective furrowed brows. Not too much to ask is it?

Lessons learned - book your own flights, buy your own place, don't rely on Jack to make the arrangements without being cursed at some point. Never , ever use Airtours!

Later, Grocerjack

The Sandman he calleth......

Scene 1: The Office, various soulless people sitting at PC's staring blankly into their screens. Jack has a coffee, and is busy surfing the net........cue the sudden jolt of a phone ringing, playing an mp3 mini version of "Enter Sandman" by Metallica as its ring tone. It is The Sandman....on a mobile...a crackly mobile

Jack jumps, for it has been some time since direct contact has been forthcoming

Jack (verbal) : Hello Sandman, how are you (for Jack knows when to enter arslikhan mode)
Jack (mental): Fuck, what does he want, it must be bad......why else would he stoop to call such a lowly person

Sandman : I'm alright mate, I have a question for you

Jack (verbal) : Oh right...I'm all ears
Jack (mental): shit, I bet it's "Are you GrocerJack?" or "Have you thought about a future with more liberty?"

Sandman : Do you have any bandwidth available?

Jack (verbal) : Sorry?
Jack (mental) : Did he just ask me if I had a sandwich available?

Sandman : Do you have any bandwidth available?

Jack (mental): No way, he can't be asking me for a fucking sandwich...think Jack...think...
Jack (verbal) : Oh....errrr........yes I have some bandwidth available
Jack (mental): sighing...Well played son, well played

Sandman : OK, I need someone to manage our contracts with the third parties who we will be using as we outsource more and more of our Operations

Jack (mental): Oh I get it, and you want me to suggest someone sutiable
Jack (verbal): sounds interesting......do you have anyone in mind?

Sandman : I think you'd be right. You know all of our third party partners and solution providers, and we need to manage them better blah blah blah ( insert unnecessary corporate gobbledygook bollocks talk)

Jack verbal) : Ok, count me in, and thanks for thinking of me for the role
Jack (mental) : too eager you dick, too eager. Now he's gonna think you have loads of spare time (I do)

Sandman : OK, I'll clear it with M. You're sure you have the time to take this on

Jack (mental) : play it cool
Jack (verbal) : Well, none of us have that luxury do we...but I'll do my best. You can always be sure of that..
Jack (mental) : Jesus, that was good, a true corporate blow job if ever I gave one

Sandman : OK, good news, I'll touch base next week and we can chat further.

Jack (verbal) : Cheers, have a good weekend.
Jack (mental): Christ you'll be swallowing next. But whatever it takes......

And that was my morning...

Later, Grocerjack

Nouvelle Cuisine is bollocks

The main distinguishing feature of the course, or at the very least the most contentious discussion point was the food supplied by the hotel.

Nouvelle Cuisine.

You see, this hotel is in a provincial market town, somewhere in the home counties. It thinks it's the Savoy or the Ritz, but this is an achievement it can never gain because it isn't in The Smoke. Only ridiculously overpriced hotels in London should attempt what this place did. Because only in London are there people who are rich enough and stupid enough to eat this Nouvelle Cuisine, and remark on how "marvellously presented it was dahling". It's the "Emporers New Clothes Syndrome" applied to food. However the food they served us was the abomination called Nouvelle Cuisine. Art on a plate. If I wanted "aesthetically pleasing" food then I would buy it and then frame the fucking thing. What I wouldn't do was to serve it up to 18 people on a course who were hungry because my own incapable staff couldn't do their job properly and supply any biscuits at break times.

So on the first day i selected the Roasted Guinea Fowl, with the "legumes de jour". The Guinea Fowl was obviusly a bit under nourished during it's life because it was the size of a sparrow - a sparrow in need of a good few worms. If this is the correct size for Guinea Fowl then I apologise for my ignorance....but for fucks sake give me 2 or 3 of them then! The vegetables were.....pathetic. Two strategically placed "baby" leeks - barely past the foetus stage in my view, with 2 newborn carrots the diameter of a pencil and the length of a Nokia 3330 mobile phone (someone used theirs to measure them!). As for the potato....well it was the size of a BABY cup cake, should such a thing exist. All drizzelled with some tasteless goo sauce. Oh my God! We communally sat there for 5 minutes waiting for the extra bowls of veg to arrive...but no...this was it. No starter, and this was the main course.

We had all eaten our miniature, but freshly heated Bread roll (white or "less white"), so when the offer of a second came, the staff could barely match the demand. You see , they had to go back and cook some more rolls, as they hadn't catered for the number of apparently heathen like guests who need more than 1 roll and some minute portions to survive an afternoon of performance coaching.

Get this as well - we had to pre-order the meals at 10 in the morning. Why then did the lunchtime meal of 2 courses, orange juice, bottled tap water and 2 bread rolls take an hour and a half to serve? Why was the orange juice freely available in jugs, but the water served in wine glasses, by a wine waiter, bottle in hand, cloth draped lovingly around the bottle?

The evening meal was more or less the same (allegedly it was chicken, but one guesses it was the cartoon variety such was the paucity of the portion available). Thje potato had changed though! No more cup cake for us. No - they had replaced it with what can best be described as a "skid mark" of potato.

Seriously.

It was like someone had dipped a paintbrush into the potato, wiped off the excess and then artistically brushed it over the plate in a painterly style, perhaps like early Picasso, or Van Gogh. What an absolute crock. Then there was the Cheese and biscuits. Biscuits again is a moot point here. They were of that nature, only smaller, more like Young Baby Ritz to put it in the correct parlance.

We got 7 of these alleged biscuits between each pair who ordered the Cheese and biscuits. Further orders for more biscuits were merely met with confused looks.

Yesterdays meal was a "rack of lamb", which is one of the most interesting uses of the word rack. Perhaps if the rack was new, and had been boil washed so as to shrink it to magnifying glass proportions I could accept it. Or perhaps theses artiste chefs have found some cunning method of cloning lambs into dwarf lambs. The lamb version of Mini-Me.

Pocket Lamb.

25 minutes from ordering the wine to the delivery of it. Were they treading the grapes freshly for us? Was the stuff being personally imported from the vineyards of Southern France? Someone actually had the temerity to complain about this for which they were rewarded with a bollocking from the Hotel Manager! Customer Service taken to new levels of rudeness. Our company pays £650 each delegate, you deliver shit, we complain even though it's not our money, and you bollock us! Basil Fawlty eat your heart out.

Is this what the rich and famous get when they eat in The Ivy or similar. If it is then thank God for Little Chef. It might be shit, but at least it's filling shit.

Later, Grocerjack

Hungover (the reprise).....

Yep, they were that stupid! An all night long free bar. Well we attempted to drink the place dry, and of course we failed valiantly, but it was a good night, and strangely enough, it was a very enjoyable course. I am normally cynical about these "performance coaching" type courses as they are usually a load of LA/West Coast psychobabble shite. But this one was very good, with some interesting topics and unusual exercises from a very interesting and funny instructor. We even had Eddie Izzard video clips to demonstrate points being taught, plus clips from Planes, Trains and Automobiles and some very funny foreign adverts. So my cynicism is dulled a bit today and I feel a bit more upbeat about the job, and what I can make it. We'll see how long this lasts for. Having said that the course needed to be interesting to keep the walking detritus that was the delegates awake after the shenanigans of the night before.

Just a quick post tonight, but normal service should be resumed as of tomorrow...I need some non alcohol induced sleep starting almost immediately.

Later, Grocerjack

Hungover

Thats why I haven't written. Good Friday was the piss up I haven't had for a very long time. Started midday, finished midnight (ish). Last hour completely unknown! There was no particular reason, just the fact that it was a Friday off and I guess we all felt like getting a little socially relaxed. Normal service to be resumed soon, on a course now for 2 days (Mastering Motivation) so updates might be difficult. Sounds like more corporate gobbledygook bollocks talk to me, but there is a free bar in the evening .....I mean are they stupid or something?

Later Grocerjack

PS, sorry to hear Croxy's condition has taken a slight turn for the worse. Hopefuilly it's just a blip.

Back to bloody normal....

DC, teenager and Baby came back yesterday from their weekend in Espana. Baby nearly knocked me off my feet with the welcome cuddle. I missed her a lot.

DC is already pissed off with me. Apparently I'm not affectionate enough. She has just spent the weekend with Bob6's wife, lets call her PostmanPattie. Bob6 and PostmanPattie are sickening together. They never stop kissing and cuddling, and saying things to each each other full of sexual innuendo...IN PUBLIC! Now, don't get me wrong I can be affectionate, but it's not really my nature to be continually expressive about my feelings, and I'm very private, so those feelings, sexual, romantic or whatever tend to be delivered to the intended recipient ...IN PRIVATE. However postman Pattie and Bob6 spent the weekend apart and , this is no word of a lie, sent each other in excess of 20 texts each, per day!! Now either they are very insecure, which is my guess, or they could genuinely have that sort of deeply loving relationship.

This might seem like a nice ideal, to be so deeply in love and infatuated with each other that you must be contacting each other by phone or text so frequently when apart, but I would find this very intrusive, and I guess most other guys would, and indeed most women. Most of my friends seem to have a balance on this, in that a couple of calls or texts per day whilst apart is sufficient. Anyway DC seems to have been polluted with this view that this is how normal people are. She says she doesn't compare our relationship with other couples, and then throws this at me. Oh really! Sorry to sound like a pig here, but what is it with women that they feel they need to change the guys they marry. I buy her flowers regularly, not at any specific frequency, but just as a surprise. We eat out, we make a point of spending Saturdays/Sundays with each other to make up for the "ships passing in the night" lifestyle during the week (like a lot of working couples do). I work all week. I strive to earn more to provide more. And still it doesn't seem to be enough. It makes me feel like giving up.

I am lost, it's a non-winnable argument. If I convince her that we are normal then that's a bubble burst and her expectations deflated, if I don't then I am admitting defeat and will have to start acting like Bob6. What a fucking choice.

Teenager never said much, nothing unusual there. In fact she seems to be straight back to MSN and her bloody mobile. Today she's off shopping with her friends, who happen to include Mini-Me. Mind you at this moment I envy the fuck out of her. Life must seem so trouble free to her sometimes. Perhaps that's where the occasional disconnect happens between us. My envy.

One last note - the Beckham "affair". So the fucking scum tabloids have decided it's his time to be knocked off his perch have they. So what if he is having an affair, it happens, every day, to lots of different people. Whatever the morality of having an affair, its still between two adults, who freely choose their actions. The pain they cause is something they are always going to be aware of. It may be morally wrong, but it happens for good reasons sometimes. Do we really live in an age where people are obliged to stay together in marital misery? And I say this....you don't choose who to love, love chooses you. If you fall in love with the "wrong" person, then the more you try to resist, the more that feeling grows.You are helpless. If Becks has fallen in love with her then he's helpless. If it's just a shag, then he's just acting like a lot of blokes. And she is acting like a lot of women these days...liberated and not labeled as some sort of slut just because she enjoys a healthy sex life. Most of us men are ruled by genitals first, heart second then our head, when it comes to women. Another fact from the GoGB archives.

If he isn't guilty (which I happen to believe) then will these pieces of trash publish huge front page apologies...will they bollocks. As for all this role model stuff, well he's a footballer, not a priest. He hasn't asked to be set up as a role model. If the tabs cared about him being a role model then they wouldn't pursue him, like they did Princess Diana, looking for the sleazy or scandalous story in order to shift their tainted rags. I know him and Posh court publicity, but that doesn't give anyone carte blanche access to all areas of their life. If the press didn't want to upset the kids who look to Becks a role model then don't print the fucking story. If the marriage has failed that will be painful enough, without a fucking camera lens and microphone recording every facet of it, and multiplying and exaggerating it for their alleged readers to digest like starving lions.

Nothing is more hypocritical than The Sun , The Daily Facist, or The Mirror, dictating morals, and determining the high ground views. Fuck me, The Sun and The News of the World wouldn't know what high ground was if they published it on the summit of Everest.

And I want Beckham to be on top form for Euro 2004, not worried about what the papers ay about his PRIVATE life (memo to editor of The Sun, Rebekah Wade....look up the word private in the dictionary you stupid bitch).

Later, when I've calmed down, Grocerjack.

It was me wot won it.....

You see , it was my football martyrdom that made that happen last night. I didn't wear a Chelsea shirt, I didn't peek at the Internet, I didn't listen to the radio or watch the TV. I posted to this, and then studied. This alone was the sole cause of the victory last night. It had nothing to do with tactics, team selection, skill, team unity, professionalism or luck. It was because I suffered my own self inflicted solitary confinement for the greater good of Chelsea fans all over. Only true football (and sports) fans know what I am talking about.

At 21:35, I received a phone call from my brother in law.

I didn't answer it, after all I had yet to discover whether my solitary confinement had created the right result.

Shit - I had forgotten the answerphone.... I ran the length of the room to try and press the button to disconnect the call. Too late.....all I heard was SmallSykes yelling and shouting incomprehensible expletives into my answerphone. Then I heard those immortal words "At fucking last we done 'em", followed by a chorus of our signature chant at Chelsea

Carefree, wherever we may be
We are the famous CFC
And we don't give a fuck
Wherever we may be
Coz we are the famous CFC.

It's sung to the tune of Lord of the Dance. There must be some irony in there somewhere. Almost as good as my favourite poem that one. One of my favourite Chelsea chants, purely because of it's simplicity and the clarity of its message is

We hate Arsenal
And we hate Arsenal
We hate Arsenal
and we hate Arsenal
We hate Arsenal and we hate Arsenal
We are the Arsenal haters

Absolute fucking genius whoever came up with that lyrical prose. Anyway, I had expected to lose and had planned to prove today that this showed conclusively that God is also The Devil, but it seems that God may also be a Chelsea fan and was merely saving the best until last. Perhaps I'll save that theory for another day.

Back in the office today, so I'll be people watching for the rest of the day. Just to see if the lunacy of this organization is continuing along its unswervingly demotivating and demoralising path. We have a Team Meeting today. At this moment it feels like I'm waiting to sit in a room full of arselickers and at least one or two Corporate cock suckers. Still, it keeps the imagination flowing.

M is chairing the meeting, so we can expect it to start 5 minutes late whilst he loudly finishes off a mobile conversation with someone very "self) important. Undoubtedly he will believe that we will be very impressed by this. No doubt the others, who have always worked for him will also be thinking this, but I'm sure that amongst this lumpy, humourless crew there is at least one or two fellow subversives. They just don't know it yet, but I will be their liberator! As I get to know some more of this motley crew they will be added to the cast, and in the next month or so we will be co-located, so I will be coerced into getting to know them better. And so will you!

Later, Grocerjack

See...it works!

I have my shirt on, Guinness in hand, and a very warm glow. 17 games we've waited. What a time to deliver the knockout blow. Do I feel sorry for The Arse? Bollocks do I. This is the best....

Later, Grocerjack

Told you I wouldn't be watching.....

See...I told you I wouldn't be watching the match. It has started, and so for the next 90 minutes I am a prisoner - no TV , no radio and no sneaky peaking on the web! I can't do any more than that to help them. I have even got a little prayer

Oh Great Lord (er....yeah I know its when it suits me mate, but you are supposed to be all forgiving, how about being non-judgemental as well!).....

Oh Great Lord
Make it swift
Make it painless
If the Arse are to win make it by 1 goal
No humiliations please
Make it over 90 minutes
No extra time
No penalty shoot outs
If this happens, then I will know this prayer was intercepted by The Devil
Or that you are The Devil

Blimey, straight plagiarism of the style of the great EJ Thribb, resident poet of Private Eye. The only poet I ever really liked in fact. To my mind the best poetry is usually song lyrics, although to those who study poetry properly, and know all about iambic pentameters etc, song lyrics are just above limerick status. I did study this stiuff as part of my foundation course in the Humanities, but despite my best efforts , and although I can understand the structures and meanings, I still can't rave over poetry thats not music based. That probably makes me a heathen to some academic minds, but it doesn't make me a hypocrite. So my favourite poem....

All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel.
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save.
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy,
beg, borrow or steal.
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say.
All that you eat
And everyone you meet
All that you slight
And everyone you fight.
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon

Courtesy of a certain Roger Waters from my all time favourite band Pink Floyd. The music is great, I always dissed them because I laboured under the illusion that they were heavy metal (although now I like a lot of the "metal" stuff). I was 16 when I first heard the album "Dark Side of the Moon" and this song Eclipse, is the denouement of the album. I can honestly say that it's as fresh to me today as it was 26 years ago (fuck me, was it that long?). At 15 I thought it was the single most profound thing I had ever heard, and I include all the Catholic propaganda shoved down my thoat from cradle to my independence age of 14. In fact it was miles away from that. Previous to hearing this I had been a David Bowie freak, but then this stuff came along and blew me away. I had mates who didn't get me, who lived and breathed the singles charts and the prevailing fashions. I was different , I did both - singles and albums. I was the archetypal bloke who saved his money and bought an album. A 12" inch piece of vinyl, with proper covers, with artwork decor on the cover that was almost as integral to the album as the music. I was prepared to listen to other stuff. It kind of felt unique, being able to enjoy Floyd, then Zep, and punk, and glam, and disco, and New Wave,and New Romantics etc etc . At a time, not dissimilar to today, when life was about labelling and pigeonholing people, I was rather proud of my ability to cross musical genres and not feel hypocritical. I may publish my second favourite poem another day, by a certain David Bowie, but I am going to dash now and put the hi-fi on, brush off Wish You Were Here, on vinyl and play it as loud as possible because I have the house to myself. Grab these loud peaceful musical moments when you can. When you have kids they are rare indeed.

Later, Grocerjack

Teenager........where are you?

She may be the bane of my life, but after 4 days of being apart I'm missing my duels with Teenager. Don't tell her that though!

Well, back to work, albeit from home today. It is something I can't excited about anymore. It would appear that I am missing the stress and daily arse kickings of me previous role. My option now is to use this boredom to concentrate more on the degree, although the latest book on animal rights is as dull as ditchwater now. It just seems to be one long tirade on how to read stuff and then write it. My plan for this assignment is to "skim read" the text, read the question and concentrate on the sections relating purely to that. From what I gather this is how most students work anyway! Being told how to read and write is like teaching your Grandmother to suck eggs (if anyone knows what this statement means or how it was derived then let me know!).

Tonight is the big one. After the stress free weekend, watching us beat Spurs (again) and England wipe the cricketing floor with the West Indies, tonight is Chelsea versus Arsenal.

At Arsenal.

Needless to say, I will not be watching, listening or wearing any Chelsea related shirts or clothing. I am thinking of betting on Arsenal to win, which should put the kiss of death on any of their ambitions tonight. Actually after their defeat at the hands of Manchester United on Saturday, I have a feeling we might just cop the backlash. Still expect the worst and you never know what might happen. Good Luck Chelsea.

Still no sore throat. Fingers still crossed......


More later perhaps, Grocerjack

Jack is Back......

What a weekend. Where do I start?

I don't want to tempt fate, but my sore throat appears to have gone :-) My theory is split into 2 camps as to why. One is that when you are running at 100% all the time, you don't have time to get ill. When that stops, you relax and then you get ill. Your body is off guard and you suddenly have time to get ill. That's why so many people get sore throats and colds when on holiday. My previous job was very high pressure, and this new one patently isn't (see postings passim!) so my levels have fallen, and thats where the throat became infected.This may not be medically sound, so if you know then please put a comment in. My other theory is that this is the longest period I haven't been in the office for for months, well since Christmas anyway. Perhaps my office is a "sick building". I'll find out in the next week or so I suppose.

Well, down to the weekend then. Where shall I start?

Bob6 has a friend, he bought him along for the weekend.
I didn't like his friend. Neither did The King.
We called him CounterMan.

The game of golf is a gentlemans/womans game. It is steeped in etiquette, some silly, some necessary. When you play golf with friends you tend to have a laugh, maybe a little side bet. What you don't do is count all the other players shots. This is what CounterMan did. On every game he counted all, including Bob6's, of our shots, which means he can't be focussing too much on his own game. My view is that when someone "questions" your score, this is a deflectionary tactic, because I never question anyones score. I never retort with "are you sure you got 5 there". The only person they are cheating on is themselves. So, I play my game, I concentrate on my scores. This bloke questioned both me and The King several times, plus he accused us both at certain times of producing balls from our pockets instead of declaring one lost. Again, this is just downright rude in my view. We weren't in anything other than a friendly competition, with me trying to put some scorecards together for my handicap records. He also accused us of "banditry", whereby we were playing off handicaps that weren't right. Both The King and me are genuinely certificated, mine from February this year and The Kings from early March.

This is how not to make friends in the golf world.

The King: Hello CounterMan, how did you do?
CounterMan: oooh, a 95 or 96..I think, what did you get then King?
The King: 96
CounterMan: oh...yeah I got 95.

Repeat the conversation but replace The King with me, and the scores from to 90 and 91. Do this over every round. Now you get the picture!

If Counterman was capable of holding any sort of interesting conversation, or stringing together any intelligent sentences, in fact adding anything to the group dynamic it might have changed my opinion. But he didn't. He is an empty vessel.

Bob6 had a complete nightmare and veered from club throwing, to swearing tantrums of the best quality. I felt for him, because we all go there at some time during golf. To go away for a weekend and play 6 rounds of golf, with only the last one bearing any resemblance to something good is a complete pisser for the individual. Bob8 might be a better name from now on, because he carded more 8's than I have ever seen anyone play over 4 days. But Bob6 did add to the conversation and he was genuinely warm in his praise of us. He did his turn at the bar and although he still has the behavioural protocols issue, it was much better than last year. He also provided us with the comedy moment of the weekend. He hit one shot and we watched as he looked down to us, but the ball was nowhere to be seen, then he looked to each side of where he was, again nothing. Then he looked behind him in case he had topped it so bad that the ball had spun back. Nothing. We were laughing by now, as was he. The kind of laughing that makes your legs go weak. He then noticed a 6 inch hole wehere the ball had been. Yep, he had single handedly tried to drill this ball through to Australia. The King and I (?) were about 150 yards from him, laughing violently by now. Bob6 drove the buggy to us, and showed this now black object, clasped inside his mud caked hand. We were crying by this time.

It took us 5 minutes before any of us could play another shot without breaking into gales of laughter. He took this well, he is after all my friend.

CounterMan thought this was out of order. Even Bob6 had to straighten him out on that one.

The weather was just as I described. Windy, cold and rainy. Thanks Devon! On Saturday, in the space of 2 holes we went from cold, wind burnt by the fiercesome gales blown into our faces, to completely and utterly soaked through to the skin. My glove was like a sponge. Even the single malts in the hip flasks couldn't help us on this one. We gave up with 2 holes left to play and went to the bar - and a good drinking session then took the sting out of the shortened round of golf. Overall though it was a good place, with good food, free golf, 4 pints at the bar for £9.00, all for £140, not bad at all. No Guinness though! I thought it might be a disaster, but they had a substitute drink instead. Beamish. It's not quite the top stuff like Guinness, but it's close enough. I drank quite a bit of it to ensure that it had my full quality approval. It's the best way innit!

So Counterman aside, it was an enjoyable and incredibly stress free weekend. I feel recharged. In a month I go to Spain with The King and The Major, plus The Worrier (a friend of The King), for a weeks golf, hopefully wind and rain free. That is the BIG one, where I want to peak. It's going to be a long 4 weeks!

DC, Teenager and Baby are having a great time in Spain. Its very warm and very sunny. My turn will come :-)

Nice to be back, GrocerJack

Thats me for a while.....

On my weekend now. Found a PC with Internet access, so time for a quick post. My mobile is off, my Blackberry is off and at home, my laptop is off and in my desk at work. I am technology free, to a degree. But it's like smoking, you think you can do without it, but I couldn't resist a last blog post before the serious (drinking, golf, letching, sleeping) stuff starts. The only technology I'll be dealing with is of the beer pump (Guinness), red wine glass, titanium head, graphite shaft, high distance/low spin ball and "how does this sauna work" type. It's a lovely feeling, I hope it's pissed a few of you off (in a nice way).

I just read Croxy's latest post with a comment from Rightgirl". I'm torn a bit here, because as a confirmed "champagne" socialist New Labour, without the nannying stuff type of person , I do think we should offer a haven to genuine political refugees, as long as other countries in and out of Europe share that burden equally. I do also think we should not give them equivalent benefits to our indigenous people (irrespective of colour) and that the use of camps is justified, provided they are decent, clean and habitable, and are NOT used as prisons. Although there's a good few of "our own" that should be stopped benefits as well, (I mean those that won't as opposed to those who can't). The good intentions of the bleeding hearts are shrouded in misguided ideas of helping others. What we are doing though is encouraging more to come to this country. I agree that the black and Asian communities in this country have added huge benefits to us, in culture, sport and politics. But we are a small overcrowded island and there has to be a limit to how many we can absorb before we end up with clashes of culture which lead to riots and possibly more terrorism.

A big subject for a blog post, I agree, and one that is always open to misinterpretation because I can't dedicate the time to fully explaining the premises of my arguments, and the conclusions. (blimey..Philosophy at work). I am NOT racist or nationalist (in fact I am close to being a republican), but I do care about my society and the one my kids will grow up and live in and that's why this debate needs to be out in the open, especially in light of what is being discovered about this governments policies today. Oh yeah, the minister quit, but the Head of the Civil Service Union was straight on the radio, defending his "members", who were just doing what they were told. And they have no spine? No balls? It smacked of "Ve Vas only following orders!"

On a happier note, Teenager sent me a text tonight, very loving with kisses at the end. I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she hasn't done something wrong and is trying to atone for the attitude problem this morning. How very forgiving of me....even I admit that sounds a bit...overly cynical. That's it for a few days, check back on Monday or Tuesday to find out how successful Bob6 was, how crap I was, how DC's trip to Espana was. Have a good one, whoever you are.....

Later, Grocerjack.

Jeans are bad?

What a stir I have caused! Today I could not be arsed to dress up as normal for work, so I am wearing jeans. The weird thing is I have had comments from people wearing ...jeans. Hello Mr Pot, my names Mr Kettle! Perhaps people expect more of me, or perhaps I am that predictable that when I rebel for 1 day, it is noticed. Perhaps this is the only way anyone notices me these days at work. Anyway, I felt a bit rebellious today and this is my sad way of proving it.

Teenager and I fell out this morning. DC was off to work early, so I did the kid run. Teenager never spoke when waking up, and then failed to say any more than 2 words until we got in the car. Then she stopped speaking at all. I made a comment on a passing car, which was a jazzy new Mini in extremely bright red. It looked very chic but I recieved no reply or acknowledgement. Because Teenager ignored me, I repeated the comment......again silence. One more time I thought........nothing.

SMACK - right across the thigh. I can take lip, attitude or grumbling, but ignorance is too much for me. She protested, but I am afraid I took the opportunity to follow this smack, with a whole bunch of verbal rhetoric. She didn't cry, but was patently about to. I haven't done that to her for ages and I think the shock hurt more than the smack, which wasn't really hard. Judge if you want, but you won't find me backing anti-smacking laws. These are supported by exceptionally lucky people whose kids never played up, or by childless ones.

She got out of the car and flounced off in the best Teenager tradition.

I gave it 5 minutes, then rang her and apologised. I'd been awake for an hour and already I have capitulated.

In a grudging manner she also apologised to me, complaining that she was tired. Wonder what she'll say when I turn her TV off at 10 tonight.

I may post tonight if I get the chance, but if not then wish me a good weekend with Bob6 - I'll be watching his score, and The King will be my witness! Last thought, apparently now Traffic Wardens will be able to issue arbitrary fines for poor driving, such things as bad parking, U-turns in road junctions, stopping in box junctions and other minor offences. Follow this link for the full story. I wouldn't want to be a Traffic Warden issuing me with a fine for such trivial offences. What next, fines for schoolkids playing ball in fields that have barred ball games. Fines for people who accidentally mount their wheels on the kerb whilst parking. Prison for people who drop litter. Lets have some fucking perspective for once.This poxy country is already overladen with legislation and fines for pathetic offecnce, with prisons containing people who haven't paid ...errr fines, or their TV Licence. When will the people of this country get the bollocks to mount campaigns of civil disobedience, like the French do, to stop being trodden on like doormats by this overpowering, bad breath suffering, legislation mad government? In France, the government does things like this, the French either strike, or they ignore it. If we had 10% of their free spirit, then perhaps we could class ourselves as free society. As it is, we just lamely accept everyting that comes our way and I for one, am sick of a society that penalises ordinary people for trivial offences and coppers nick people for speeding on Motorways, yet old people get mugged, children get bullied, murders and rapes are rising, gun crime is increasing and drug use is on the increase (don't even start me on drugs policy......read High Society by Ben Elton, then you'll find my views). Just think how much serious crime could be cut if we diverted the police resources to that instead of sitting on roadsides for hours on end!

Later GrocerJack