So that's it for a while, unless I get any creative urges on holiday. I'm semi-demob happy. I have a small domestic to sort once I arrive in that Kid wants to come home a week early to 'prepare for college' but this sounds a ruse to me. It seems to me that teenage hormones are starting to simmer, no doubt for her, but also for her 'boyfriend' the now regenerated 'Mini Me'.That's regenerated as in going from 4 foot fuck all to an inch or two taller than me in 18 months. I'd still win the fight though! Anyway, me....leave a teenager in the house for a week? Alone? She has two chances, Slim and None, and Slim just rode out of town.

I had a quiet birthday though. Thanks for asking. It means a lot. A few cards and texts and a few e-cards as well. Nice to know people remember these things. I actually got my present last week the day after they all went to The Money Pit, but started using it from Friday after the new car turned up. Its a Pure Highway in car DAB radio device. It took less than 10 minutes to install, just an aerial and windscreen mount needed putting in place. As I switched it on I braced myself to expect yet another piece of worthless, junk Technology that promised loads and delivered nothing.

Just for once I was proven wrong. This fantastic little device worked immediately. It seeks out a spare unused FM frequency for you, then displays which one to tune your car radio to. When you do this, the words Pure DAB show up in the car radio display (if you have RDS) and hey presto, Planet Rock in crystal clear stereo! I drove in today for the first time in the new car and 'Planet Rocked' all the way. I can get all the DAB stations pretty well, but they all drop at one point on the route for about 30 seconds, but then this is in the middle of bloody nowhere, and with DAB coverage running at around 80% of the country it will occur from time to time. If the FM frequency becomes busy as you move around the country then a single press finds a new one and you simply retune to that. So, after a few minutes of Breakfast on 5 Live, harping on about the bloody Olympics, I decided to kick start my day with Planet Rock and was treated to the delights of Bad Company, The Clash, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Metallica. Music to get the heart started!

I waited for years to hear Radio 1 in FM when the BBC was dragging its feet on rolling it out on FM. By the time it came I was too old for the station. I had hopes that the former incompetent QUANGO, The Radio Authority (now OFCOM) would give Virgin an national FM frequency so I could hear something other than Boy/Girl Bands and Dance rubbish. But no, they decided the 'adult' music market was already well served by the travesty of broadcasting that is local commercial radio. My previous posts on the state of UK radio say it all. It's Pop, Classical or Talk if you wanted national FM coverage. Well, DAB Radio does away with that, as does Internet radio. Anything that weakens OFCOM is good in my view. Radio is too safe and bland in the UK.

Anyway, take it from me, this device is a superb piece of kit and Pure deserve all the plaudits for finally putting an in-car DAB option out to market at a reasonable price (£55 on Amazon).

Anyway, that's it for now, apart from one comment about George W Bush berating China for it's record on Human Rights. Apparently he's not happy that they lock up dissidents and suppress religion.

George, two things. Guantanamo Bay and the victimization of declared Atheists in your own back yard. America, land of the Free? Not for a very long time George.

Pot....kettle anyone?

Later, GJ

Signs of Ageing, pt 2

Just a few observations......

1.) Every day something else aches.

2.) Your wife and kids go away for a week and you eat sensibly and don't go to the pub every night even though you could!

3.) You get up at 7 in the morning when you're NOT working. Even after going to the pub!

4.) There are an increasing number of things that bring a tear to your eye making you look like a soppy old sod. Which of course you are!

5.) Radio 1 is a form of torture.

6.) You can no longer keep time with your air guitar or air drums.

7.) Big Brother makes you reach for the off switch.

8.) A whole night of sleep without getting up for the loo seems a distant but fond memory.

9.) You tut at people who play their music loudly in cars, despite still doing this yourself. Its their choice of music that's the issue of course.

10.) Sex scenes on TV make you leave, or want to leave the room.

11.) You buy clothes because they make you look slim, are comfortable and because you think they make you look younger.

12.) And because they're cheap. Good value. Sensible. Practical.

13.) You never go to the Doctor about just ONE thing any more.

Today is my birthday. I am 47. Fourty-bloody-seven.

Hellsbells, Kid and Pie are sunning themselves in The Money Pit whilst I go to work.

The first flecks of grey in the goatee have been spotted by me, after kidding myself they were blonde. Spartacus, the youngest in my team yesterday asked me how old I was. I'm 3 years younger than her Dad for fucks sake! She then asked me if I colour my hair and was incredulous when I told her I don't. And I genuinely don't! Its still light brown to fair depending on how sunny it is. Is this fact about my hair being 'au naturelle' going to become a surprise to everyone as I .....ahem....mature?

I'm off on Friday for my annual mega-stint at The Money Pit. We have wi-fi there now so who knows, I might get to post a thing or two.

Or maybe not.

Later, GJ

Signs of Ageing, pt1

How very true!

Later, GJ

Wasteful Unwinnable War

In the news today we have the stunning revelation that drugs 'swoops' have little or no effect on the amount of drugs available on the streets.

Anyone else find this news unsurprising?

I'm no great fan of drugs, but I do acknowledge that some of the worlds greatest art and music has been inspired by moods or images induced by the use of drugs. I've dabbled in a bit of dope in my time as well. I learnt that it makes you laugh uncontrollably , usually kicking in when least appropriate moment, it does give you the munchies and that it doesn't mix well with alcohol and not at all with a combination of alcohol and Distalgesic. In fact the latter (accidental) combination can be very frightening. Don't do it kids!



I do however resent millions of pounds being pumped into the administration of the 'drug problem' in the relentless 'war on drugs'. By this I specifically mean the money frittered away in the legal and judicial systems on policing the issue, arresting people and then charging them and then either banging them up or fining them. I have no issue with spending money on rehabilitating addicts if is their choice to come off the drugs, just as I don't resent taxpayers money being spent on alcoholism or smoking related diseases. Similarly other people who need NHS treatment for risky things such as sport, motor cycling, gardening or drinking a hot coffee will never find me moaning about their treatment.

I've probably ranted on this before, but I can't be arsed to look back through all my posts, but in essence drugs are all about personal choice. If you're an adult, that is over 18, and are considered old enough to drink, smoke, vote or die for your country then why not just legalise the whole lot and sell them through pharmacies. Make it illegal to use them in public, I have no issue with that but if people want to snort some Charlie, or stick a needle into themselves in their own or someone else's home then let them do it. It could be that pharmacies sell the drugs under licence as Pubs and Off Licences do for alcohol, and it wouild be a good idea to make the sale subject to photo i.d being presented irrespective of age (an argument for i.d cards?) and that every purchase is signed for, as with a prescription, with a disclaimer that absolves the vendor from any action that might come about through the injury or death of the buyer.

Just think about this. Drugs would be price controlled and set to match the 'street price' thus squeezing the illegal traffickers and dealers out of business. The drugs would be taxed. Licenses to produce them to a minimum quality standard would be issued, allowing the likes of Glaxo Smithkline Beecham and Eli Lilly to produce them in proper hygienic plants. The state could even make a profit which is then ploughed into the NHS. The user would know the risks, and accept them through the signing of the disclaimer. The state would have no culpability in the event of any accident, disease or death occurring as a consequence of taking the drugs. I am really struggling to find flaws in this.

The idea was mooted in Ben Elton's excellent book, High Society, and it's hard to see why we persist with a flawed 'war on drugs' which is as doomed to failure as the 'war on terrorism'. Would any current politician or political party be brave enough to have this on their election platform? Of course not, because the majority of them have no spines or balls. They are too scared of losing the vote of the Daily Mail brigade rather than pushing for a radical re-think in the way we treat drugs.

One thing is for sure, my Liberation TM party would adopt this policy!

Later, GJ

Set me free

Do you think you live in a free country?

As a society in the UK, can we consider ourselves really free?

Is it just me, or does it appear that with every passing day under Rab C Nesbitts….sorry……. Gordon Brown's increasingly shambolic and incompetent government, which shames the Labour Party and Labour movement, that someone somewhere is trying to introduce a new piece of legislation that further diminishes our right to choose?


Is there no end to the constant stream of Nanny Government missives, diktats and arselikhan mandarins suggesting new laws, codes of practice and guidelines be introduced in order to ensure we, the ordinary people of the country do the apparent right thing?

We’ve seen the government spend our money on an independent report on the classification of Cannabis and then totally ignore the recommendations. Apparently they know better than the medical experts who were commissioned to produce the report.

Now, with the success of the smoking ban making pubs nicer places to go, increasing the number of people giving up and reducing the number of people starting from the outset, they are turning their attention to the demon drink. Barely a day goes by without some stark warning about the imminent collapse of society through drinking. Rab’s even gone as far as to commission a report on drinking hours in pubs……yeah that’s right..because pubs are so full of alcoholics aren’t they? Don’t most alcoholics drink irrespective of location? It’s the supermarkets fault if you believe one point of view because they sell booze so cheaply. Hmmm……but our booze is the dearest in Europe…..how does that work then? Supermarkets and Off Licences could ensure stricter controls on who they sell to, but there’s always someone willing to buy the stuff and then pass it to youngsters. It was the same in my day when we got our cheap alcohol thrills from a chemical nasty called Pomagne. If drinking is worse now than in the 1970’s then deal with it through education at schools, not by penalising the majority of sensible people who meet in the pub once or twice a week for a social chat.



We’re under constant attack for being fat. The word Obese has a dictionary meaning of ‘grossly overweight’ but nowadays applies to someone carrying an extra pound or two above the media view of what looks good, and some obscure Government formula for height and weight that makes every one of the England Rugby team obese. Like the word ‘gay’ has been abused by the homosexual community, so the word ‘obese’ has been kidnapped by the body fascists. Our food is apparently bad, but paradoxically we live longer, and with prices rising we’re still under daily assault to eat healthy foods which the Supermarkets charge a premium for.

Now we have a bunch of dickless, do-good, namby pamby, sandal wearing experts pushing for health warnings on food, preventing legitimate organizations like McDonalds from advertising and generally trying to make us all live off home grown lettuce and carrots. Yes, McDonalds is bad for you IF YOU EAT IT EVERY FUCKING DAY!!!!!!! But once in a while, as most people use it, isn’t harming anyone.

Another load of ‘we know better than you’ bollocks came last week in the news that Greater Manchester councils are considering imposing 18 certificates on films that display smoking. Now I might be wrong here, but smoking isn’t actually illegal except in certain places is it? On 5 Live they interviewed one of these Nanny Councillors (the intriguingly named Basil Curley) who said this move was all about ‘education’ and that youngsters took their leads from screen idols. Hmmm…..so if Christian Bale smokes, a whole bunch of 15 year olds will also go out and smoke. Anyone see the flawed logic in this? If a 15 year old hasn’t started smoking by the age of 15 I reckon there’s a fair chance he or she is not going to be starting. And aren’t they more
likely to smoke by seeing their parents smoke? We educate the kids in school and at home, do we really need Draconian bollocks like this to ram home the message?

In Friday’s Guardian, an article from yet another shitneck fucking Doctor preaching that we need to have fewer children in order to save the planet. And I thought it was the UK not China.

In essence hardly a day goes by without more useless scientific or survey information being paraded as ‘News’ associating everything to a ‘cost on society’. Every day you’ll hear of new laws being planned or implemented which further undermine our right to choose or do.

When was the last time you heard of any laws being repealed?

There has to be a tipping point. Italy looks like its lurching to the right and I reckon this will be the start of ideological shifts across Europe to either left or right. When democratically elected Governments start to dampen people’s rights and freedoms then it breeds political extremism. Even in our apathetic ‘can’t be arsed’ UK society something has to give.

Just look around you and see the society we live in, the warnings on food, on the roads, on buses, on drinks and lyric warnings on CD’s. Everywhere you turn it’s a Health and Safety warning or a Legal Notice. We’re a society living under petty bureaucracy and pompous moral high ground fuckwits obsessed with telling others how to live, what to eat, what not to eat, what to wear, what to drive, what to read, what to watch, what to listen to, what to drink, where to go, where you can’t go, where you shouldn’t go, who you should and shouldn’t talk to, how to behave, what’s right and what’s wrong.

Big Brother is watching us.

Eat less, drink less, smoke less, fuck less, sunbathe less, travel less.

Live life to the least.

Freedom? My Arse!

Later , GJ.

Max Mosley is an odious and pompous autocrat. He personifies the upper class twit mentality that cripples this country. I know I couldn’t spend more than 30 seconds in his company without wanting to transform his face with a steel toecap boot. He has contributed greatly
in the transformation, and subsequent demeaning, of F1 and other motor sports from races where individual skill prevailed, to processions of technological genius where success is driven by money.

I don’t much like him.

But, I will raise my glass to him this evening over his rightful victory over the scabby rag The News of the World. If ever a victory for common sense and a person’s right to privacy was needed then now is as good a time as any. I only wish the punitive damages of £60,000 had been £6,000,000.

This rotten example of The Fourth Estate decided to follow a man into a private room and expose him to the world for some exotic sexual tastes. It makes me mad to think this grottylittle organ sits there in moral judgement on adult activities that are not illegal, whilst peddling titillation and soft porn to the nation. It’s the hypocrisy that gets me, exposingand berating the private lives of celebrities whilst showing topless pictures of 18 year old girls and actively advertising dubious ‘chatlines’ and mobile phone downloads. What next, exposing Elton John for sleeping with a man.....showing everyone that Amy Winehouse has a drink and drugs issue.....oh sorry I forgot they've already done that.

Uniform based orgies are not my bag, but if it is Max Mosley’s thing then surely that’s down to him and no-one else. The media and people in worldwide motorsport are now crying out for him to resign. I’d like him to resign as well but for reasons to do with ruining motor sport and not because some devout religious F1 fan is disgusted by his activities or other allegedly important, but more realistically powerful people are offended by his sexualproclivities.

The truth is none of them would have been any the wiser had the Screws not felt it necessary to tell everyone what a man does in his own private time with other consenting adults. They nearly got everything they deserved and should have been done - £6,000,000 is a message that would have made every tabloid think twice about propagating such utter banal and pointless crap. .

Max Mosley, I wouldn’t drink with you, but tonight I will drink to you.

Later , GJ

The Wage Slave (contd)

My first 1:1 with The Tub Thumper (TTT) ....abridged


TTT: So then, Jack, how do you feel?

GJ (says): OK, a little worn out but then the last few months have been ....a tad stressful
GJ (thinks) Like you give a shit....

TTT: Why's that?




GJ (says): Well, you know, not knowing what the future holds, not knowing if I'll have a job or who I'll be working for. being promised so much and then having it all taken away
GJ (thinks): Because you're all a bunch of egotistical fuckwits sat in Ivory Towers advancing your careers at the expense of others.

TTT: Well, understandable I suppose. But hey, it's all done and dusted now, and the good news is you're working for me!

GJ (says): Well, that is some good news at last. Although I didn't want to work in Problem Control.
GJ (thinks): Whoopy-fucking-do, an evangelist for a boss who doesn't believe in Evolution and doesn't have a TV and believes the world was created in 7 days. And hey, done and dusted? For fucks sake, have you no Christian compassion?

TTT: You won't be in Problem, you'll be a new team with a new function - Service Performance and Intelligence! SPI........what do you think?

GJ (says): Wow, sounds exciting. When do we start?
GJ (thinks): Smile, look happy, look enthusiastic. How bad can this be? I think I already know.

TTT: Glad you like it. How do you think the team will take the news?

GJ (says): They'll be thrilled! Some closure on the past and something to aim for in the future. They're a hardy bunch.
GJ (thinks): Fuck me, I've got my work cut out placating them. How the fuck do I spin this positively?

TTT: We'll also need to get to work on how we develop you, get you back on track.

GJ (says): Great, it's been a nightmare stagnating in such an environment of uncertainty.
GJ (thinks): Leave me alone. I don't need or want any patronising development. I'm quite happy with my team and role.

TTT: I notice that on your annual review you put 'under review' against long term aspirations, yet The Master told me you were hoping for your F Grade.

GJ (says): Well, I am reviewing my options in light of all the redundancies. It's fair to say my trust in The Company to look after me or even care about my future career is somewhat tainted. F grade looks like a departure lounge to me. And I've got a mortgage and family to look out for.
GJ (thinks): Oh yeah, I'm REALLY gonna put my neck in the noose! Happy comparative anonymity has served me well thus far for 15 years so it might as well serve me that way for the future.

TTT: (silence and bemused look)

GJ (says): I'm Ok with where I am. I'm a bit old to carry any further ambition in The Company.
GJ (thinks): I want to do something else, but as a wage slave I'm fucking trapped. Yep, That should get the blade sharpened!

TTT: Well..I'm surprised. I thought you were a bit more confident and upbeat than that.

GJ (says): Well, 5 months of uncertainty and protecting my team from the rumours and getting them to work as normal has been hard and I'm a little jaded.
GJ (thinks): Is this it? At 46 I've got to be preached at and patronised. Are you really too dim to understand why I'm a bit down?

TTT: Never mind, you have a break coming up so you can recharge the batteries and come back ready to drive the team and yourself on.

GJ (says): Yep, that's what I need, my holiday. I'll come back on full thrust and be ready to lead the team into new campaigns. it's really quite exciting......
GJ (thinks): Christ, she might as well have said 'never mind, have a cup of tea and everything will be fine' - You hypocrite jack, you fucking spineless hypocrite. Tell her the truth! Go on....there's a devil on my shoulder

10 seconds pass....

GJ (thinks): The Angel on the other shoulders smacks The devil in the mouth. Don't be a prick, say the right things, smile and lie through your teeth. it's not about you.....

30 minutes of banal Corporate Bullshit now ensues, relating to 'objectives and goals' and how they plan to engage with the employees to improve the Employee Engagement score.


GJ (says): Mmmmm.....yeah.....OK.......right.....and other reassuring but nonsensical words during this lecture whilst nodding head and with eyes glazing over.
GJ (thinks): Here's an idea for improving Employee Engagement. Don't treat us like fucking morons. Don't treat us like children. Don't make stupid false promises. Don't build up hopes and then dash them. Don't dress up messages in Corporate Gobbledygook Bollocks talk. Don't patronise people. Don't let people see private meeting invites. Don't feed the rumour mill. Tell everyone at the same time what's going on. Don't consult people and then totally ignore their recommendations.


TTT: It's good to have you on board. You'll be a great asset to the team and department.....

GJ (says): It's good to be on board. I'm sure it'll be a great challenge and we can deliver real value to the organisation.
GJ (thinks): Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss. I feel sick.


My Hypocrititis, a disease of the mind whereby I do exactly the opposite of what I think and what I want, is back and knows no bounds.

Later, GJ

We should pay for this!

It's a continuing complaint, but whoever came up with the 5 days at work, 2 days off ratio
was a dick. Time for a GJ campaign methinks, along the lines of "3 day weekends for all".....except those who work in shops, museums, golf clubs, football clubs, kebab shops,
bike shops, police stations, fire stations, ambulance stations, hospitals, chemists, pubs,
restaurants, cafe's, trains, planes, boats, leisure centres......you get my drift.

On Saturday I was up at 5:45 to drive to Skank's so we could execute Plan B to try and make up for the loss of last weekends Fairford Air Show, due to the bloody British summer of non-existence, by going to Farnborough instead. It was good day out and allowed me to put my Canon EOS-400D and it's 70-300mm telefoto lens through it's paces for the first time. It passed with flying colours. Both Skank and myself reeled off dozens of pictures, in fact for me it was close to 700, of glorious death and killing machines flying through the air at high speed and making a lot of noise. I've never understood people at Air Shows with ear defenders. Isn't the roar of the engines part of the attraction?

Air show photography is also notoriously tricky, especially for amateurs like me. On all my previous outings I've either taken an automatic camera or a digital compact camera. All you end up with though is the Viz comic's "Famous Air Show Photographs" section which is a dot in the sky! Having loaded Saturday's lot into the PC, I reckon I'll get around 100 decent ones after a bit of software re-touching to remove some issues.

I know it pisses the photo purist off, the fact that Digital photography can be easily re-touched and photo's enhanced, but for 99.999% of the worlds amateur photographers the Digital revolution which allows numpties like me to rattle off hundreds of pictures without carrying a wheelbarrow load of film around, then re-touch them via some fairly noddy software has to be a good thing doesn't it.

The Vulcan Bomber flew on Saturday, it's first flight ata major airshow for 15 years or so having been taken out of service in 1992. The picture was taken by Skank. It's cost TVOC (The Vulcan Operating Company) some£8m to get it flying again. To keep the plane flying will cost £1.6m per year. TVOC are walking around with the begging bowl on this one. After the disastrous cancellation of Fairford, depriving the Vulcan of a great chance to fly and attract sponsors. It seems crazy to me that many of our fantastic British achievements are left to rot. If an old building is likely to collapse, has the slightest most tenuous link to something historic or be knocked down, then we 'list' it and government funds are made available for it's upkeep as part of our national heritage. Very commendable.

But shouldn't this be extended to other areas as well? My hard earned tax goes on overpaid civil servants, wasteful QUANGO's and all sorts of things I don't agree with, but for some reason the British Government, irrespective of political leaning continually refuse to keep equally important parts of our heritage going. The Vulcan bomber, like the Lancaster bomber,like the Spitfire, like the original Ark Royal, like the original cross Channel Hovercraft and most of all like Concorde should all have been funded centrally from Government to allow them to continue flying or sailing at public displays. A case in point would be Concorde.

Keep one or two flying and I can guarantee they could have covered them in Sponsors logos and they'd have damn near recouped the operating costs outlay. I saw the crowd go silent when the Vulcan took off. I saw the awe and and heard the gasps when it flew past. People loved the thing. Concorde would have had the same effect. In the same way that people stop and stare at a vintage car, it reminds us of a time when we could not only think the innovations up, but still build them as well. Maybe it reminds us of a previous time when we may have had a justification for the prefix of Great.

Later GJ

The Parent Tax

Teenager has just got her first pay packet in her summer job as a lifeguard/receptionist at the local leisure centre.

£450 - tax free.

Am I being unreasonable to expect some 'keep' from her?

According to Hellsbells I am. According to Teenager I am as well. In fact everyone seems to think I'm being unfair.

Except me.

When I left school and got my first pay packet I took home £20. I had to give £10 of that to my Mum for my keep. So on that principle I reckon Teenager owes me £225. I've offered a discount as she goes to college in September, and decided that 20% would be reasonable - that's £90, which would keep me in Guinness/Magners for a month probably, or let me buy bloke stuff more regularly. I could spend it at Stamford Bridge on Chelsea tops and other Chelsea merchandising, which would save me surreptitiously hitting my credit card and smuggling the goods in past Hellsbells.

As an aside, all blokes who get married have to smuggle stuff past their partners. Partners think that all spending by blokes on stuff we need is unnecessary and is therefore unauthorised. I need golf clubs, camera lenses, camera extras, Chelsea shirts, Chelsea shorts, Chelsea jackets, Chelsea mugs, Chelsea pint glasses, iPods, DVD's, golf accessories, mountain bike stuff, power tools and computer gadgets. Any man knows this type of thing is all absolutely necessary. So why do us blokes all (and we do all) accept the fact that we have to secretly buy the stuff, smuggle it in under the radar system that all women seem to have and then wait 6 months before publicly using/wearing it? Women don't have to do this of course. No need for smuggling when they know damn well us blokes couldn't give a damn what new clothes or shoes they've bought. When they show this stuff off us blokes all know the correct stock answer of

"Yes love, it looks great. It makes you look younger/thinner/sexier" (delete as appropriate) .

Maybe it's time for some GoGB Liberation to take place here. When I'm brave enough I'll start the Let Blokes Buy Stuff Campaign from here.

Back to the Parent Tax. Why can't I claim this 'parent tax' from Teenager? After all, Teenager has had 16 years of money, support, toys, DVD's, mobile phones, computers, clothes and love off of me.

Completely unconditionally of course.

Later GJ

How not to keep a workforce happy (pt2)

At the time Mr Blonde was re-assuring us of our place deep in the warm and welcoming bosom
of The Company, it became clear the one thing he couldn't supply was the SM structure (remember we were in the Service Management or SM team of the larger Smoke & Mirrors or S&M Department...come on please keep up). This meant that none of us really knew who we would be working for and what the ramifications of Simple Tuesdays fallout would be.

But we were safe. Secure. Guaranteed. No more redundancies.

Of course we were.

Over the next six weeks we had several false dawns. Three times an announcement was due on
the structure of the SM team and twice mr Blonde cancelled. The third time we were called
together to tell us that nothing had progressed. In itself this set the alarm bells ringing and this turned the starting handle of the rumour mill which swung effortlessly into action. Mr Blonde was leaving, Queen Wasp was moving sideways, SM was dead in the water etc. I listened to the rumours, the chief one being that SM was being canned and that Mr Blonde was leaving by his own hand on a point of principle. This was the one I bet on, because it had been apparent that the S&M Leadership Team was far from being united. I mean, are leadership teams ever truly united? In my experience the back-biting, one-upmanship, arse-licking and political manoeuvring is worse at that level than any other. And Mr Blonde was not welcome.

In fact from day one it seemed his no-bullshit, straight talking, common touch style was at odds with the Stepford Manager, smile whilst stabbing, corporate gobbledygook bollocks speak culture of the others on the team. Queen Wasp, to be fair, was a big fan of his because she also has the common touch when required, however she is surrounded by arselikhan wannabees using their current positions as a stepping stone to further their careers. Billyboy is good, he knows his stuff and seems savvy enough to detach himself from the crap. A very astute political player I'd say. But The Rugby Player (big and ugly) is a dangerous person who went from all round good guy, to the full 'Stepford chip insertion' clone, spouting Corporate Gobbledygook Bollocks Talk at any and every opportunity. Aligned with The Drinks Waiter, a 6 foot 8 inch giant of a man from Portugal with zero personality except for brooding Latin menace and people skills to match Robert Mugabe, and Captain Darling, a man so anally obsessed with 'process' and pretty 'swim lane' diagrams and all the managerial skills of Frank Spencer one can only sit back and be amazed at how he landed his role, it's little wonder Mr Blonde was in the firing line. I reckon in any one on one situation Mr Blonde would have dwarfed these three intellectual fuckwits, but up against a combined force he stood no chance.

The last week of April came around and the rumours were at fever pitch. Mr Blonde hadn't been seen for 2 weeks. A meeting was called by Queen Wasp and we can see Billyboy on the list of invitees. This in itself was a cock up, because if nothing was changing then why did Billyboy, the head of another department, lets call it the Dirty Hands team, even need to be there?

Here's why.

At 14:00 on the last Friday in April, 2 hours before the weekend starts we trundle to another building within the Corporate Palace estate to be confronted with Queen Wasp, Billyboy and Mr Blonde. Queen Wasp sets the scene and says that the SM function was being scaled down from the original proposal and that Mr Blonde was leaving, just 4 months after starting. At his own behest! Mr Blonde, to his credit, then stood up and told us that the role and scope of what he'd been recruited for had been reduced to such a small size that he'd decided that it didn't match with what he'd been told to come and set up, so he was off to pastures new. As usual he didn't mince his words, and whilst Queen Wasp sat there, it was obvious she was not best pleased at losing Mr Blonde. When a cabinet minister resigns on a point of principle, doesn't that reflect on the PM rather badly? I was minded of Sir Geoffrey Howe's resignation speech when he left the
Thatcher cabinet.

Queen Wasp, a tad shaken recovered to tell us we would all be in Billyboy's organisation and within 2 weeks we would all know here we sat. We had , of course, only left Billyboys DirtyHands team 4 months earlier when Mr Blonde had started.

There would be no further redundancies.

Of course there wouldn't.

The 2 weeks went by once again. No meeting was called this time. However, several people were invited to 1:1's with Billyboy and someone from The SS...sorry......HR. Included in this was my old boss The Master, but also some others as well.

Guess what?

Redundant. Despite what was said they were all, bar one who actually got promoted, out from that very day. It was a smaller, less vicious version of Simple Tuesday. I may have had differences with them from time to time, but watching them clear their desk , smiling through gritted teeth and saying what an opportunity it was for them still made this a very bleak day indeed. In the case of The Master, a man who embodied every aspect of The Company and lived and breathed every ideal and value of The Company, this seemed particularly poignant. Again, it was the F band Club hit the hardest. They all got good packages circa a years salary in lieu of notice to bump the taxman, plus share deals paid up, cars given to them and preserved staff discounts/benefits for a year after leaving. Very nice. But you still have to find a job, still have to pay a mortgage, still have to feed the family and if, like The Master...and like me...you haven't been in the open job market for over 15 years then it must be daunting to face the savageries of the modern day rat hunt that is finding a new job.

Later, that very day I get the call from The Tub Thumper to tell me she's my new boss. She wants a 1:1.

Things can only get better...can't they?

Later GJ

How not to keep a workforce happy (pt1)

So why was work a pile of festering shite for the last 6 months? Well, you may recall that the announcement was made last year that we would undergo a 'transformation' (or what we used to call a reorganisation) of The Company's High Tech Pipes, Tubes and Strings Department. Lets just call it the Smoke and Mirrors Department from now on because frankly it's all black fucking magic to me. Of course this abbreviates to the S&M Department, which also has some truth in it as well.

Anyway, this transformation was being done because, to quote Queen Wasp "we can do this, and we're not doing it because we have to" - My internal response at the time was "of course not love, you're doing it for us after all we'd all hate to think it was happening on the pretext of cost savings...I mean perish the thought".

I'd pitched my views into the various meetings about where my team should be and what it should be doing, kidding myself that

a.) anyone was listening
b.) anyone gave a shit
c.) I gave a shit

I am very good at faux enthusiasm. You may also recall, Mr Blonde was employed at great expense to come in and create the new Service Management department, or SM as it would have been known. Hmmm....the SM thing keeps cropping up. A theme maybe? So, in came Mr Blonde on £100000 per year to sit in the corner and basically ignore people until you spoke to him. I quite liked him for his apparent straight talking, no bullshit nature and the fact that he allegedly supported Chelsea, although this has never really played positively for me as most senior managers who claim such things are living in BillyLiarLand, using their football allegiance as some sort of link to the proletariat that work for them in order to exploit and claim credit for their talents to an even greater extent than normal.

Cynical? Moi?

Well, we were promised several 'drop dead' dates for organisational announcements which is always a tense time despite the usual 'no redundancy' bollocks coming from Queen Wasp. Then, some bright spark on the UK board decided that The Company, and not just S&M needed a trim.

Well, when I say trim, I mean the Corporate equivalent of a Brazilian.....yeah I know what you thought that link might show!

The S&M 'transformation' was firmly shoved into the bin and overtaken by the UK wide initiative called 'Simple'. That's when things got really sinister. A veil of secrecy descended over the whole company, rumours started to build and spread and many people sustained injuries caused by constant jumping to conclusions. In March, Simple Tuesday, was announced whereby the whole organisation would find out who was in and who was out.

It was a bloody cull. Good people were given envelopes a goodbye message and a severance deal, the departure being blamed on their alleged 'performance issues'. Others suddenly found their role's were 'no longer required' and also left. Most were walked off the site that day and forced to hand back laptops and phones. Email accounts were deleted that day and remote access was locked down. Every building at the Corporate Palace had the doors manned by security guards. It was corporate carnage.

Except for us. We were in the SM part of the S&M department and Mr Blonde happily told us that those of us who hadn't been thrown out that day were safe and were part of the future. This was a double edged sword for us of course because some of us had seen our friends have their lives turned upside down that day and not in a particularly dignified manner. Of course not everyone was shifted out that day, just those who were in the F Band Club (see posts passim). The mere proletariat were given notice until June 30th. Some were given gardening leave, some were told they were expected in as part of the severance deal. Stay at home and you lose it for those expected to come in.

During this period the atmosphere had gradually darkened until Simple Tuesday, when it was positively black. The worst day I can ever recall at work, ever.

But it was over and we were safe.

We had a future.

We could start to rebuild.

There was no more blood to be spilled...................surely?

Later GJ

Great?

Can someone remind me of what exactly is Great about Britain please?

Our weather is shite. I mean just how much rain should we get in Summer. Shouldn't we get at least one heatwave? Can anyone remember a single run of 4-5 days this year whereby we got warm sunny weather and cloudless skies? Great Britain?

An incompetent government. Fuel prices rising, which in the case of oil I do understand is not their fault, but for electricity and gas are absolutely down to our own misguided privatisation program. The coal mine closure program added to zero investment in nuclear and green renewable technologies is another factor. This has exposed us to global markets and allowed foreign companies to buy our 'crown jewels', whilst remaining closed themselves, and for dubious foreign powers to hold us to ransom over gas supplies. Compare this to France with its expansive Nuclear electricity network reducing the French reliance on any foreign supplies. Never having had a single accident. Great Britain?

An incompetent Governement (2) - food prices rising, again because of policies which penalise the local producers and reward supermarkets with too much power. Oddly not enough power to control prices. Food fascism constantly being rammed down our throats, telling us whats good and bad to eat, whilst implying we're all fat useless unhealthy loafers who waste food. Not eating organic? Gone for the cheapest option because you're income is lower and you still need to feed the family? According to Gordon Fuckwit you're a complete heathen and the real cause of the problems. Great Britain?

Stabbings - every day, every fucking day and a Home Secretary sitting there saying the answer is to show youngsters the effects of what knife crime. FFS? Great Britain?

More taxes - yep, every day in every way Gordon Fuckwit will find yet another tax to apply under the guise of making us green. As if any of these taxes will ever be used on anything green. Or useful come to think of it. Great Britain?

House prices falling and an obsessed media determined to talk us into recession. I remember seeing Chris Morris on The Day Today in his prophetic vision of a war generated by the media. You can see it here. Great Britain?

A member of The Commonwealth, Zimbabwe, is run by a crooked, vindictive, mentally unstable dictator in Robert Mugabe, and Britain, like all the others does nothing except ask for sanctions and removes his honorary titles. Yep, that hit him where it hurts. Great Britain?

The list goes on, Wembley Stadium (late and overbudget), The Millennium Bridge (faulty and closed immediately after openeing pending repairs), The Spinnaker Tower (delivered 6 years late and missed the Millennium celebrations by some distance), The Beagle Explorer mission to Mars (assumed crashed), the Princess Diana memorial fountain (not a proper fountain and another failed design), The Millennium Dome (stood unused for 7 years). Great Britain?

Later, GJ

Contrast

One minute you're planning a great big fuck off weekend at Fairford Air Show, with an early start, pole position in the grandstand, great big zoom lenses primed and loads of environmentally unfriendly and hugely noisy death and killing machinery whizzing past at 3oo mph.

The next you're nursing a hangover and sat in front of the TV all day long feeling sorry for yourself because thanks to the good old British Summer, the vast amounts of rainfall that have fallen thus far in July have waterlogged the whole Air Show site and the organisers called the whole thing off. yep, the whole of the flying displays cancelled with the a stroke of the proverbial pen.

250,000 people's planned weekend flushed down the drain unlike the water around RAF Fairford. We decamped to the pub on Friday night after finding out, the eintention being to determine if any sort of Plan B would compensate. Short of a Pink Floyd reunion with us getting a back stage pass there was nothing that even flickered us into life. Only one thing for it then.

Guinness.

Loads of Guinness.

Loads and loads of Guiness.

And a great big fat Cuban cigar, normally reserved for celebrations but in this case used to soften the fucking blow.

And soften the blow the guiness and the cigar did on the night, but at the usual price of a headache that felt like I'd been hit with a cricket bat by Kevin Pietersen. This is why there's no God. If there was then he'd have sympathised with our plight and waived the hangover fee just for one day.

I ended up gardening for fuck sake. Which in the scheme of things doesn't really come close to seeing an F22 Raptor do a vertical take off does it?

Later, GJ

Reasons

Reasons to be Grumpy.......

It's pissing down with rain, but apparently the temperature is normal for July. WTF?

Global climate change is happening but the drop in polluted skies is the cause, as the clearer skies mean more of the suns rays melting the polar ice caps. Or is it the shift in the magnetic poles? Or is it Aircraft - which contribute 2% of the man made emissions globally....far less than heavy industry or the car. No-one really knows, trust me, no-one really knows.

The housing market is collapsing, repossessions are up and mortgages are being restricted.

House building is stalling and government building targets are fucked. The government and the highly paid Economic analysts didn't see this coming? WTF?

Food prices are rising globally because we want biofuels instead of food. I mean does anyone know anyone who is running their car on a biofuel? FFS?

Fuel prices are rising due to the price of oil. Apparently India and China are to blame because they want to use it as well. And the G8 couldn't see that coming? WTF?

Fascist dictator Robert Mugabe stole the Zimbabwean elections whilst the US and Europe sat there watching. No oil in Zimbabwe I guess. FFS!

18 teenage stabbings this year but according to the Governmment they are tackling crime. Presumably by getting the police nicking more speeding motorists, graffiti 'artists' andmetal thieves rather than the rapists, stabbers and murderers. WTF?

Gordon Brown and his deadhead, blundering, incompetent, lying, cheating, corrupt Government are in charge. The opposition is The Conservative party. Whoopee-fucking-do!

I have 2 teenage daughters now. Offical. OMG!

I still have my braces :-( Just how much longer can this take?


Reasons to be cheerful...

Chelsea have a new Head Coach!

36 days to the new footie season!

I'm on holiday in France soon!

Doctor Who was great!

We're going to transform our garden and grow our own! I get a Greenhouse!

I can work from home 2 days a week!

My bonus this year was good!

Hellsbells has a new shiny bike!

Our new second car arrives soon and it's bright yellow. A Mr Happy car!

Pie is doing very well at school and Teenager has left school and is working until college starts! I have yet to see how this might save me some money though!

It can only rain so much.

Later GJ

Bored bored bored

Well people, the dust has settled after the reorg....sorry ...transformation and despite the best efforts of Queen Wasp (formerly Beach Babe...I will update The Players in good time of course) it became the ritual slaughter of good people we expected.

Of course her style, her apparent friendliness, the blonde hair, the certain look in her eye and an easy smile (to quote the great Roger Waters) allowed us all to be duped, but in the end good people walked and complete arseholes remained. It's all down to role, not ability or loyalty you see.

Quoting Roger again " You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to, so that when they turn their backs on you, you'll get the chance to put the knife in"

It's all a crock of shit and hopefully I will dedicate 20 minutes per day to writing an article here for your perusal, which over time will explain the .........bollocks of the last few months. Yes, I've been slack, but it's a combination of laziness, misery and a period of reflection on whether to decide if Jack should be woken from his self induced coma. No promises here, but I might just be full of inspiration again!

Anyway. Doctor Who? Fucking brilliant. The series goes from strength to strength and the latest series is no exception, far outstripping its predecessors for excitement, humour, fear and unbelievable beautifully written pathos just top make the girl's cry and men complain about something in their eye. The last 3 episodes finished the story arc off superbly with the iconic sight of the Tardis being piloted as it should be by 6 people for the first time ever. Awesome. As per usual the Doctor was played brilliant by David Tennant who has thankfully cut back on the gurning and grinning since Rose departed. Of course she was back for the end, but sensibly the role cut back a bit until a fitting re-union with the Doctor-Donna clone. But this brings me to the point of why the last 3 episodes and the whole series was an improvement.

Catherine Tate. Yep, after wholesale Whovian derision on the announcement of Catherine Tate as the new 'companion' by, frankly, sad idiots who can't separate her sketch show characters from her portrayal of someone by the process of acting. Something she is trained to do. She has in fact been the best of the companions to date. Instead of fawning over the Doctor like Rose did and indulging in annoying lovey-dovey dualist banter, nor adopting martha's doe-eyed approach (I love him but he hasn't noticed me) , Catherine tate played the part of the sympatehtic and critical humanist. She made The Doctor think about what he did, she bought common sense to the decisions of him and others. She cried at tragedy and showed bravery in the face of great peril. She really bought the audience into how living with someone like The Doctor could be both enlightening and frightening. She deserves a BAFTA for her performances throughout, but especially for the tragic and desperately sad ending involving the 'reset' button technique so beloved of Russell Davies for overall stories. Except this time this was for one person, whose life had been made so much better and yet she would know nothing of it.

Being Doctor Who of course, she may well return, but I have a feeling Catherine Tate will resist any attempts to bring her back. The character has closure and despite not being the happiest ending, she has her life as it always had been before she met The Doctor.

I didn't use my hankie once...honest.

A quick word as well for the superbly portayed Davros, by a guy called Julian Bleach. Wow. The best Davros by far, with a beautifully understated yet potent menace to his voice, and great mannerisms even if restricted to the right arm! His speech about "All the Stars and all the planets and all the people will become dust, and the dust will become atoms, and the atoms will become nothing' was delivered in a superb whispered menace just hinting at the great victory he expected. Truly a scary and iconic villain, now firmly lodged in Whovian folklore with his creations , The Daleks.

All in all superb family TV, which Baby nearly cried at, Hells Bells stated she didn't, MiddleSis and LittleSis admitted the tears and which Teenager also succumbed to. When the series returns with a new Executive Producer in 2010 it can only go from strength to strength.

Later, GJ

God, that last post looked shit didn't it? Well its deleted now so of you haven't seen it then you missed bugger all.

I'm thinking about how to continue this blog and whether I can find the time....which is ridiculous...20 minutes every couple of days shouldn't tax anyone, so maybe its just me being a lazy bastard.

Anyway, I'm not ready to kill the Grocer off just yet, so lets have a few quickie points.

Gordon Brown - God help us. Anyone see the resemblance to John Major?

The Planet is saved! - Planet Rock has been bought by a consortium of old rockers including Tony Iommi, Gary Moore and Fish. Great news and a poke in the eye to the continuing ripping out of the soul of radio we see from Corporate giants in it to make money at the expense of the listener.

Teenagers and knives - see the Liberation manifesto!

Chelsea - season over, no trophies, goodbye Uncle Avram, no new coach...I miss Stamford Bridge already.

A bright yellow new car - surely not? Unfortunately yes, outvoted by Hellsbells, Teenager 1 and Teenager 2.

Inter-costal muscle tears hurt ...a lot.

Co-codamol constipates you!

Redundancies at work, change is good (sic), change is inevitable etc and more work bollocks.

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss

Amy Winehouse - what an abuse of talent.

Later, GrocerJack

I hope this is true!

Top this for a speeding ticket. This took place about 70 km North of Leeds in UK .

Two traffic patrol officers from North Berwick were involved in an unusual incident while checking for speeding motorists on the A-1 Great North Road . One of the officers used a hand-held radar device to check the speed of a vehicle approaching over the crest of a hill, and was surprised when the speed was recorded at over 300 mph. Their radar suddenly stopped working and the officers were not able to reset it.

Just then a deafening roar over the treetops revealed that the radar had

in fact latched on to a NATO Tornado fighter jet which was engaged in a low-flying exercise over the Border district, approaching from the North Sea .

Back at police headquarters the chief constable fired off a stiff complaint to the RAF Liaison office.

Back came the reply in true laconic RAF style:

"Thank you for your message, which allows us to complete the file on this incident. You may be interested to know that the tactical computer in the Tornado had detected the presence of, and subsequently locked onto, your hostile radar equipment and automatically sent a jamming signal back to it. Furthermore, an air-to-ground missile aboard the fully-armed aircraft had also automatically locked onto your equipment. Fortunately the pilot flying the Tornado recognized the situation for what it was, quickly responded to the missile systems alert status, and was able to override the automated defence system before the missile was launched and your hostile radar installation was destroyed."

Things going on......

1.) I've discovered the League of Gentlemen...typically a couple of years after it's stopped being made. How the fuck did i miss this absolute comedy gem? A veritable cornucopia of bizarre and disturbing comedy characters set in a village that can only be described as 'decidedly odd and not a little scary'.

Much like the one I live in...examples to follow!

As pictured the the iconic Papa Lazarou is quite simply one of the most disturbing characters I've ever seen on any TV show let alone such a multi-layered and intellectually challenging black comedy like this. And as for Tubbs and Edward......

2.) It's the 18th March apparently. That's the new D-Day for us at The Company. A day when we find out whether we have jobs going forward or are out on our ear. Invites to see Mr Blonde on Monday will not be good news. Squeaky bum time as a famous football manager likes to say.

3.) Open University studies. Yep, that'd be me who'd forgotten just how time consuming these can be. Muppet. Still, just this year and an exam pass and dopey old me will be a BA! And they say academic standards have dropped?

4.) Ricky Gervais. I downloaded 'Fame' his latest stand up show and laughed like a fucking drain. Totally un-pc, totally funny. Very clever. Bought the real thing plus his other two in a box set because it's guaranteed to make me laugh no matter how I feel. A clip from Animals, his first ever stand up show...bearing in mind he'd never toured or done stand up before. Very subtle, but very funny.

5.) Ditto Steve Coogans, comedy classic, Alan Partridge. Comedy Gold over both series. Example...check this link out first...and then this!

6.) Gout in the elbow? Why me? No, it's not fucking funny and yes, it is fucking painful.

7.) I love my Cuban Cigars. They're my real treat on a Friday now. Smoking bad for you? yeah...but one of these a week and my eyes are opened to the real difference between smoking chemical filled fags, and these beauties.

8.) Chelsea - my beloved Blues are creating turmoil in my life mainly due to the sacking of the greatest coach we've ever had, Jose Mourinho and replacing him with the litle know, inexperienced interloper, Avram Grant. read more here at my favourite, most intelligent football blog site.

Later, GJ

How very true!

Subject: Passport Application


Dear Minister,
I'm in the process of renewing my passport but I am a total loss to understand or believe the hoops I am being asked to jump through.

How is it that Bert Smith of T.V. Rentals Basingstoke has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a satellite dish from them back in 1994, and yet, the Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date?

How come that nice West African immigrant chappy who comes round every Thursday night with his DVD rentals van can tell me every film or video I have had out since he started his business up eleven years ago, yet you still want me to remind you of my last three jobs, two of which were with contractors working for the government?

How come the T.V. detector van can tell if my T.V. is on, what channel I am watching and whether I have paid my licence or not, and yet if I win the government run lottery they have no idea I have won or where I am and will keep the bloody money to themselves if I fail to claim in good time.
Do you people do this by hand?

You have my birth date on numerous files you hold on me, including the one with all the income tax forms I've filed for the past 30-odd years. It's on my health insurance card, my driver's licence, on the last four passports I've had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before being allowed off the planes and boats over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that are done every ten years and the electoral registration forms I have to complete, by law, every time our lords and masters are up for re-election.

Would somebody please take note, once and for all, I was born in Maidenhead on the 4th of March 1957, my mother's name is Mary, her maiden name was Reynolds, my father's name is Robert, and I'd be absolutely astounded if that ever changed between now and the day I die!

I apologise Minister. I'm obviously not myself this morning. But between you and me, I have simply had enough! You mail the application to my house, then you ask me for my address. What is going on? Do you have a gang of Neanderthals working there? Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don't want to activate the Fifth Reich for God's sake! I just want to go and park my weary backside on a sunny, sandy beach for a couple of week's well-earned rest away from all this crap.

Well, I have to go now, because I have to go to back to Salisbury and get another copy of my birth certificate because you lost the last one. AND to the tune of 60 quid! What a racket THAT is!! Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day? But nooooo, that'd be too damn easy and maybe make sense. You'd rather have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut off, then find some tosser to confirm that it's really me on the goddamn picture - you know... the one where we're not allowed to smile in in case we look as if we are enjoying the process!
Hey, you know why we can't smile? 'Cause we're totally jacked off!

I served in the armed forces for more than 25 years including over ten years at the Ministry of Defence in London. I have had security clearances which allowed me to sit in the Cabinet Office, five seats away from the Prime Minister while he was being briefed on the first Gulf War and I have been doing volunteer work for the British Red Cross ever since I left the Services. However, I have to get someone "important" to verify who I am -- you know, someone like my doctor...
who, before he got his medical degree 6 months ago WAS LIVING IN PAKISTAN...

Yours sincerely,
An Irate British Citizen.

Mansions to Palaces

Time to move

More corporate silliness abound at The Company as we now move under the command of our new boss. I liked the Belgian Billyboy, he was brusque but despite being from Belgian he had a sense of irony and understood cynicism and sarcasm, which are generally very British traits.

But now I have a new threat manager. Don’t get this wrong I still report to The Master, but now instead of BillyBoy, we have Mr Blonde.

I'm sure the fact that his wife works in HR has had no bearing or gave any interview advantage when he applied for the role as Big Boss Of The Business and Customer Stroking Department.

Why Mr Blonde? Well, film aficionados will know Mr Blonde as the smiling, vindictive, sadistic assassin in the introductory masterpiece of Hollywood’s “enfant terrible” Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs (well he was the "enfant terrible" when it was released!) . Watch the film to understand Mr Blonde’s persona.

Especially the torture scene.

Well, Mr Blonde came in just before Christmas all smiling and saying the usual things about how much he was looking forward to working with us…blah, blah, blah…you know the spiel by now. On that day he even declared himself a Chelsea fan…….”Born and bred in SW6” to quote him. Blimey, I thought…things are looking up. But I should have known better.

The reality is somewhat different and since then he has almost been invisible to us all, bar one "team briefing" which announced nothing, amnd a spot at a recent "leadership update" session. All this talk of Leaders makes me wonder if I'm living in North Korea...perhaps the Beach Babe should now be called Dear Leader....yeah..I like that. Anyway, presumably Mr Blonde had hidden away as he strives to build his new organization under the current “transformation” of the business.

Something doesn’t ring right here for me. A man who doesn't communicate with anyone can't be a good thing. Something tells me we’ve just witnessed the arrival of the psychopathic assassin who is making jokes with you one minute and then gunning you down in cold blood the next.

Watch this space for more information on whether I dodge the bullet or not.

Anyway this weekend saw the first move from Mr Blonde as we all moved to the Corporate HQ Palace from our previous home in Technology Mansions, located in a stereotypically bland Business Park on the outskirts of town. Technology Mansions was a bit more rough and ready and much less salubrious than Corporate Palace. Plus, having worked there for around 90% of my tenure with The Company it’s fair to say there weren’t many I didn’t know. Oh, how different it is at Corporate Palace. And these differences are……?

The food is worse and more expensive

The coffee is dearer and the "large" is smaller than the "large" back at the Mansions

People smile less...in fact hardly at all

Power dressing is everywhere and everything (that’s me fucked then)

It’s a posy-yuppie paradise full of testosterone filled knobs or vacuous mangirls giving mental corporate blow-jobs to the people in power, keeping their assassins knives ready for the day they can dispose of their rivals and predecessors.

Car parking is utter carnage after 8:30 in the morning.

There is a lot of ….ahem…….talent....

The toilets are unisex…we think…who knows?

In fact it seems a typical soulless campus full of wannabee corporate cock suckers desperately trying to vie for a place on the greasy pole of success. Sad bastards.

I'm gonna hate it.

Later, GrocerJack