Everything was going fine until we discovered the previous plumber had connected the old toilet to a hot water feed.
What a twat.
I asked the guy if he'd ever noticed his boiler firing up everytime the upstairs toilet was flushed.
We had to sort that mess out.
We 'lost' 2 hours sorting that mess out....
and then I cut through a gas supply pipe.
What a twat.
I've updated the mp3 music files available to download on the sidebar over to the right.
I'm in a shouty mood.
Monday, May 28
For what I’ve done, I’ll start again. And whatever pain may come, today this ends. I’m forgiving what I’ve done.
You don't have to anywhere near a Maths genius to figure out that 180 - 640 = deep shit.
That's the summary of my Bank Account over the next 4 days.
*sigh*
It's difficult not to have it affect me in such ways that it causes disjointed and uncomfortable sleep, buggers up my thinking and keeps me feeling 'low', which in turn means this cold I have isn't going to give up the ghost in me anytime soon. The fucker.
I'm actually quite good managing cash-flow. I can budget pretty good and know when it's time to stop spending. That's all well and good when I actually have cash to play with, but since I've stopped working for somebody else and decided to go self employed, the biggest problem I've had to deal with is this transition period. I'm still in the process of finalising certain things before I can actually go full steam ahead being self employed, so in the meantime I've been working on as many odd jobs here and there as I can to at least cover the bills. It has literally been 3 months of managing to somehow scrape by.
On the occasional days during the last 2 weeks (in between the odd jobs and my illness), we've been posting leaflets through doors to generate some business. It seems to have worked to a certain degree. Of 5,000 leaflets, we only managed to get about 1,000 out but already we've quoted 5 jobs and got 4 of them confirmed to start. This is all good news because jobs mean money and whilst lots of money would make me happy....having enough money to not have to worry about nasty letters or knocks at the door for the next month would make me even happier.
That's the summary of my Bank Account over the next 4 days.
*sigh*
It's difficult not to have it affect me in such ways that it causes disjointed and uncomfortable sleep, buggers up my thinking and keeps me feeling 'low', which in turn means this cold I have isn't going to give up the ghost in me anytime soon. The fucker.
I'm actually quite good managing cash-flow. I can budget pretty good and know when it's time to stop spending. That's all well and good when I actually have cash to play with, but since I've stopped working for somebody else and decided to go self employed, the biggest problem I've had to deal with is this transition period. I'm still in the process of finalising certain things before I can actually go full steam ahead being self employed, so in the meantime I've been working on as many odd jobs here and there as I can to at least cover the bills. It has literally been 3 months of managing to somehow scrape by.
On the occasional days during the last 2 weeks (in between the odd jobs and my illness), we've been posting leaflets through doors to generate some business. It seems to have worked to a certain degree. Of 5,000 leaflets, we only managed to get about 1,000 out but already we've quoted 5 jobs and got 4 of them confirmed to start. This is all good news because jobs mean money and whilst lots of money would make me happy....having enough money to not have to worry about nasty letters or knocks at the door for the next month would make me even happier.
Sunday, May 27
Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor, just for the attention.
There has been a little tension in The Girls' house this weekend.
The music playing in my car is considered to be 'shouty music', because it isn't bassline driven and running at 122 BPM like the usual dance stuff she listens to.
Apparently I was too forceful during the cushion fight.
Her mobile phone couldn't have fallen off the table, it must have been helped on it's way.
Accidentally clicking open the wrong window on her PC proved an interesting move. Cue sheer panic expression on her face coupled with "go back....what are you doing!"
I'm not sure if she considers me a lazy or neglectful Blogger. Or possibly both.
The misunderstanding over 'deep throating' didn't help matters either.
I'm not even gonna mention the fact that she let rip the dirtiest burp a little earlier. Obviously she's moved into her comfort zone a little earlier than I have.
The music playing in my car is considered to be 'shouty music', because it isn't bassline driven and running at 122 BPM like the usual dance stuff she listens to.
Apparently I was too forceful during the cushion fight.
Her mobile phone couldn't have fallen off the table, it must have been helped on it's way.
Accidentally clicking open the wrong window on her PC proved an interesting move. Cue sheer panic expression on her face coupled with "go back....what are you doing!"
I'm not sure if she considers me a lazy or neglectful Blogger. Or possibly both.
The misunderstanding over 'deep throating' didn't help matters either.
I'm not even gonna mention the fact that she let rip the dirtiest burp a little earlier. Obviously she's moved into her comfort zone a little earlier than I have.
Thursday, May 24
If there's something inside that you wanna say. Say it out loud it'll be okay....
Try not to confuse coincidence with fate.
helpothers.org
Pass it on....
helpothers.org
Pass it on....
Wednesday, May 23
In the confusion and the aftermath, you are my signal fire.
Yesterday, I thought it was symptoms of hay fever.
At stupid o'clock this morning, I realised it was the beginnings of a full blown cold.
My body defences are all on vacation somewhere at the moment. Probably hoping that by the time they come back, everything that's worrying me will have either blown over, been resolved or put me under for good.
Cue :
An afternoon on the sofa,
buried under a quilt....
At stupid o'clock this morning, I realised it was the beginnings of a full blown cold.
My body defences are all on vacation somewhere at the moment. Probably hoping that by the time they come back, everything that's worrying me will have either blown over, been resolved or put me under for good.
Cue :
An afternoon on the sofa,
buried under a quilt....
Tuesday, May 22
Anybody knows you can conjure anything by the dark of the moon.
Up a loft earlier:
A full size drum kit - still set up, 2 computers, a plasma tv, pictures and paintings, a huge gothic antique style mirror, an antique style side table, various boxes of paperwork, lots of boxes of videos and DVD's many of which were still sealed.
I'm sure some people have more money than sense.
In the extension building a little later:
I must remind myself never to install Cast Iron Radiators again, unless it's gonna make me enough money not to give a shit about anything else. Much like the owners of the house we were working in.
Some pictures have been released on the new Big Brother house here. I'm not sure what to make of what they've done, except they appear to be trying to make things as difficult as possible for the Housemates to feel any 'normality'. Even though the program frustrates the fuck out of me, I'll still be watching it.
I'm BB junkie.
Anybody who strolls through this site might be interested to know there's a Blogger counterpart over at Big Blogger 2007. You can nominate fellow bloggers who you would like to participate, or yourself if you wish.
I may have to withdraw myself from nomination if I find out I can't take some gear in as my luxury.
A full size drum kit - still set up, 2 computers, a plasma tv, pictures and paintings, a huge gothic antique style mirror, an antique style side table, various boxes of paperwork, lots of boxes of videos and DVD's many of which were still sealed.
I'm sure some people have more money than sense.
In the extension building a little later:
I must remind myself never to install Cast Iron Radiators again, unless it's gonna make me enough money not to give a shit about anything else. Much like the owners of the house we were working in.
Some pictures have been released on the new Big Brother house here. I'm not sure what to make of what they've done, except they appear to be trying to make things as difficult as possible for the Housemates to feel any 'normality'. Even though the program frustrates the fuck out of me, I'll still be watching it.
I'm BB junkie.
Anybody who strolls through this site might be interested to know there's a Blogger counterpart over at Big Blogger 2007. You can nominate fellow bloggers who you would like to participate, or yourself if you wish.
I may have to withdraw myself from nomination if I find out I can't take some gear in as my luxury.
Friday, May 18
In my imagination you're waiting, lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs and a smile.
I think I was about 11....or 12.
A bunch of us were climbing through some bushes, looking to make a den. We stumbled into somebody else's. In there, was a magazine of the 'gentleman nature'.
I performed an outstanding double-take and wondered what the fuck that was.
A bunch of us were climbing through some bushes, looking to make a den. We stumbled into somebody else's. In there, was a magazine of the 'gentleman nature'.
I performed an outstanding double-take and wondered what the fuck that was.
Thursday, May 17
Tuesday, May 15
Im always just about to go and spoil a suprise.Take my hands off of your eyes too soon.
Two things I didn't know until this morning:
Somebody has got one of my credit card details from a website I've used somewhere and used them to buy things. I have to fill in a dispute letter to try and recover the losses.
I received a Pension Statement letter saying I have a pension worth 28 grand. This is obviously something I'd forgotten about, so I'm kinda thinking....I could do with some of that money now, I wonder if there's any way I can cash some of them in?
Work is very slow at the moment. We're out door-dropping leaflets, trying to drum up some business. My poor bank account is about to suffer a fatal heart attack, I have no food in the cupboards, my car sounds like it's gonna fall ill sometime soon, The Girl is ill and my ego was hurt by not even getting my arse felt in that club on Saturday night.
Things are pretty crap at the moment, huh.
Somebody has got one of my credit card details from a website I've used somewhere and used them to buy things. I have to fill in a dispute letter to try and recover the losses.
I received a Pension Statement letter saying I have a pension worth 28 grand. This is obviously something I'd forgotten about, so I'm kinda thinking....I could do with some of that money now, I wonder if there's any way I can cash some of them in?
Work is very slow at the moment. We're out door-dropping leaflets, trying to drum up some business. My poor bank account is about to suffer a fatal heart attack, I have no food in the cupboards, my car sounds like it's gonna fall ill sometime soon, The Girl is ill and my ego was hurt by not even getting my arse felt in that club on Saturday night.
Things are pretty crap at the moment, huh.
Monday, May 14
I won't be crying when I'm lonely, 'Cause I'll be making sure I'll have a good time.
When I left The Girl, she was coping with a developing rash and feeling the effects of a tiring weekend.
I'd like to say both down to me; the rash from my 2 day stubble rubbing against her skin and the tiredness from our constant passion of bumping uglies.
However, the rash is apparently a reaction to pineapple juice and the tiredness is because we were out until stupid o'clock on Saturday, celebrating her brother's birthday at several of their favourite gay haunts in the City. I can't say I was overly impressed with the bars we went into, but the club was awesome. 3 floors of great atmosphere and wall to wall man fanny! What more could you ask for?
The drinks were a bit pricey and the door charge of a Tenner was so over the top, I expected a complimentary blow-job. The tunes were ok and every now and then, the DJ played a Chooooone that got everybody on the dancefloors throwing so many shapes the shelves of a Tesco Superstore would have been stacked in no time. One of the dancers on the centre podium had me hypnotized with his bendy shapes, not to mention his tiny shorts. Several visits to the unisex toilets and a few more cans of terrible lager later, and I found myself attempting to throw my own shapes with The Girl and her brother on the stage.
"Think back", I was saying to myself...."Think back to Kevin and Perry"
There was a proper X Files moment on the tram on the way out. If I'd have been dropping as well, I'd have sworn we'd all had a connected drug daze. I was half expecting Hiro to appear in a haze of slow motion and tell us to "Save the cheerleader, save the world".
I got a half hug from The Girl's brother on Saturday night. I think that's progress.
I'd like to say both down to me; the rash from my 2 day stubble rubbing against her skin and the tiredness from our constant passion of bumping uglies.
However, the rash is apparently a reaction to pineapple juice and the tiredness is because we were out until stupid o'clock on Saturday, celebrating her brother's birthday at several of their favourite gay haunts in the City. I can't say I was overly impressed with the bars we went into, but the club was awesome. 3 floors of great atmosphere and wall to wall man fanny! What more could you ask for?
The drinks were a bit pricey and the door charge of a Tenner was so over the top, I expected a complimentary blow-job. The tunes were ok and every now and then, the DJ played a Chooooone that got everybody on the dancefloors throwing so many shapes the shelves of a Tesco Superstore would have been stacked in no time. One of the dancers on the centre podium had me hypnotized with his bendy shapes, not to mention his tiny shorts. Several visits to the unisex toilets and a few more cans of terrible lager later, and I found myself attempting to throw my own shapes with The Girl and her brother on the stage.
"Think back", I was saying to myself...."Think back to Kevin and Perry"
There was a proper X Files moment on the tram on the way out. If I'd have been dropping as well, I'd have sworn we'd all had a connected drug daze. I was half expecting Hiro to appear in a haze of slow motion and tell us to "Save the cheerleader, save the world".
I got a half hug from The Girl's brother on Saturday night. I think that's progress.
Tuesday, May 8
Sometimes I think, I think I understand the fear in the boy. The fire in the man.
There were four of us in the end.
Two of The Girl's friends from college greeted us from the edge of Morrison's car park in what looked like the sort of area that suggested wandering the streets after the sun goes down would be a very bad idea.
The abundance of Police cars and vans did little to calm that theory.
Inside, we were shown to an over sized table that wouldn't have been out of place in some fairy tale. Chairs that made us feel like children and cutlery that just didn't sit well with anything else. It was very clean though, almost clinical. The food was presented within dishes upon trolleys, where one could help one's self to anything and everything. After double checking on the impressive labelling system that bullfrog's bollocks weren't about to be consumed of course.
On their first visit, they all came back with what they described as some kind of chicken soup. It was particularly difficult to keep a calm stomach amongst their swapping conversations of it's tastiness.
It looked like a bowl of phlegm.
No, seriously!
Not being one for braving food that hasn't already been tested and filed in my 'nice' and 'yucky' memory banks, a Chinese Restaurant is not the sort of place I usually frequent. In fact, this was the first time I'd ever stepped in such an establishment.
I ashamed to say that I stuck with the more tangible food, such as spare ribs, spicy pork and fries. Yes....I'm sorry. I went to a Chinese restaurant and ate fries. I'm hanging my head in shame.
Food issues apart, we engaged in a myriad of conversations; the attraction of Dandelion and Burdock, the elements of bluetoothing, a guy who keeps taking his cock out at their college, a gimp who doubles as a bouncer at a club we might be going to on Saturday night, some let's say 'eclectic' porn one of them was shown by a random guy in a random pub and the murder scene, which was just outside.
I think the evening went well. One of her friends is exactly the sort of friend I'd have down here, if that isn't such an odd thing to say. I really liked him. I can only hope that they liked me.
My battered old car was still in the car park and The Girl and I made our way back to her place. In her kitchen, we enjoyed a couple of smokes, she enjoyed a couple more vodkas and we did what we do best. We talked.
A few days earlier, I was changing all my 'background info' page. As I began writing about myself something occurred to me. I wondered how much of what I would write would be something The Girl would write about me also. So I asked her. I asked her to write down 40 things about me. After a few reservations from her side, she agreed, but only if I did the same for her in return.
So on Saturday night, in her kitchen....we exchanged what we'd written.
I said one....she said one.
Some of what she'd written about me was lifted straight from my old list. She admitted she'd committed most of them to memory.
Stalker Alert!!!!
I fucked up on two of mine. I said she'd lived in Denmark as a child, when in fact it's Holland and I fucking knew that. I just had a lapse of intelligence at the time of writing. I also said Will Ferrell was on her 'would do' list, which had her in hysterics. She showed me a picture of him on the net in between her giggling fits. It was a simple case of mistaken identity caused (or so I said) by the fact that he'd been in movies with the other guy before. Of course I'd meant to say Owen Wilson.
I'm not sure if it was the weed or my list that gave her a case of the giggles, but the 'Swedish nipples' pushed her over the edge.
< /weekend >
Two of The Girl's friends from college greeted us from the edge of Morrison's car park in what looked like the sort of area that suggested wandering the streets after the sun goes down would be a very bad idea.
The abundance of Police cars and vans did little to calm that theory.
Inside, we were shown to an over sized table that wouldn't have been out of place in some fairy tale. Chairs that made us feel like children and cutlery that just didn't sit well with anything else. It was very clean though, almost clinical. The food was presented within dishes upon trolleys, where one could help one's self to anything and everything. After double checking on the impressive labelling system that bullfrog's bollocks weren't about to be consumed of course.
On their first visit, they all came back with what they described as some kind of chicken soup. It was particularly difficult to keep a calm stomach amongst their swapping conversations of it's tastiness.
It looked like a bowl of phlegm.
No, seriously!
Not being one for braving food that hasn't already been tested and filed in my 'nice' and 'yucky' memory banks, a Chinese Restaurant is not the sort of place I usually frequent. In fact, this was the first time I'd ever stepped in such an establishment.
I ashamed to say that I stuck with the more tangible food, such as spare ribs, spicy pork and fries. Yes....I'm sorry. I went to a Chinese restaurant and ate fries. I'm hanging my head in shame.
Food issues apart, we engaged in a myriad of conversations; the attraction of Dandelion and Burdock, the elements of bluetoothing, a guy who keeps taking his cock out at their college, a gimp who doubles as a bouncer at a club we might be going to on Saturday night, some let's say 'eclectic' porn one of them was shown by a random guy in a random pub and the murder scene, which was just outside.
I think the evening went well. One of her friends is exactly the sort of friend I'd have down here, if that isn't such an odd thing to say. I really liked him. I can only hope that they liked me.
My battered old car was still in the car park and The Girl and I made our way back to her place. In her kitchen, we enjoyed a couple of smokes, she enjoyed a couple more vodkas and we did what we do best. We talked.
A few days earlier, I was changing all my 'background info' page. As I began writing about myself something occurred to me. I wondered how much of what I would write would be something The Girl would write about me also. So I asked her. I asked her to write down 40 things about me. After a few reservations from her side, she agreed, but only if I did the same for her in return.
So on Saturday night, in her kitchen....we exchanged what we'd written.
I said one....she said one.
Some of what she'd written about me was lifted straight from my old list. She admitted she'd committed most of them to memory.
Stalker Alert!!!!
I fucked up on two of mine. I said she'd lived in Denmark as a child, when in fact it's Holland and I fucking knew that. I just had a lapse of intelligence at the time of writing. I also said Will Ferrell was on her 'would do' list, which had her in hysterics. She showed me a picture of him on the net in between her giggling fits. It was a simple case of mistaken identity caused (or so I said) by the fact that he'd been in movies with the other guy before. Of course I'd meant to say Owen Wilson.
I'm not sure if it was the weed or my list that gave her a case of the giggles, but the 'Swedish nipples' pushed her over the edge.
< /weekend >
Thursday, May 3
The handshake seals the contract. From the contract, there's no turning back.
One of my biggest fears
is the tissue paper
tearing
when I'm wiping my bum.
is the tissue paper
tearing
when I'm wiping my bum.
Wednesday, May 2
Maybe you did, maybe you walked. Maybe you rock around the clock .
I finally set the day and time on my ansa-phone.
After having it 2 years.
I found the instructions in amongst other paperwork, documenting the last five years of my life.
I shredded the lot.
It was a cleansing thing.
I have money in my hand. Cold, hard cash.
It's worth much more to me as a value just sitting in my pocket. If I bank it tomorrow, it then becomes a value for the bank by crawling back on my over-draught.
I love that first definition:
"The act of over drawing a bank account."
Being in the bank however, allows me to pay some bills and stupid as it sounds....I can't pay these bills with cash.
Last weekend, The Girl met a few more of my friends. They all loved her, although most of them were either very inebriated or stoned....or both. Next weekend the tables are turned on me, although I doubt very much that much alcohol or weed is gonna be consumed. We are going to a Chinese Restaurant with some of her college buddies.
I don't eat Chinese food, have I mentioned that before? Nor Indian food. Nor Italian, Mexican or whatever. In fact....I'm very fussy when it comes to food. My Mum said it was all my Auntie Judy's fault. She spoilt me. Aunties are great, aren't they?
I want The Girl's friends to like me. Of course I do. So how should I be? I've been thinking about this.
Should I just be myself. I grew out of the "I want everybody to like me" phase years ago, so I kinda have the "This is me, take it as you like". Luckily people still seem to like me, so I be can't be that bad, can I.
Or should I be overly nice and make sure my 'likeable' mask is securely fastened. That way there will definitely be no chance of them thinking "Blimey, The Girl's boyfriend is a bit of a twat, isn't he?"
Or maybe I should get really stoned before we go. Although on second thoughts, conversations about opening up a chain of shops that sells individual plugs might get a tad moribund (Thanks Alan Partridge).
I can't believe that within five minutes of meeting the guy I work with and his wife, The Girl tells them that we broke my bed!
Oh and I've finally changed the songs in the jukebox thingy on the right. Just a straight upload of the last five songs my player played. That Ingrid Chavez one is a killer though.
After having it 2 years.
I found the instructions in amongst other paperwork, documenting the last five years of my life.
I shredded the lot.
It was a cleansing thing.
I have money in my hand. Cold, hard cash.
It's worth much more to me as a value just sitting in my pocket. If I bank it tomorrow, it then becomes a value for the bank by crawling back on my over-draught.
I love that first definition:
"The act of over drawing a bank account."
Being in the bank however, allows me to pay some bills and stupid as it sounds....I can't pay these bills with cash.
Last weekend, The Girl met a few more of my friends. They all loved her, although most of them were either very inebriated or stoned....or both. Next weekend the tables are turned on me, although I doubt very much that much alcohol or weed is gonna be consumed. We are going to a Chinese Restaurant with some of her college buddies.
I don't eat Chinese food, have I mentioned that before? Nor Indian food. Nor Italian, Mexican or whatever. In fact....I'm very fussy when it comes to food. My Mum said it was all my Auntie Judy's fault. She spoilt me. Aunties are great, aren't they?
I want The Girl's friends to like me. Of course I do. So how should I be? I've been thinking about this.
Should I just be myself. I grew out of the "I want everybody to like me" phase years ago, so I kinda have the "This is me, take it as you like". Luckily people still seem to like me, so I be can't be that bad, can I.
Or should I be overly nice and make sure my 'likeable' mask is securely fastened. That way there will definitely be no chance of them thinking "Blimey, The Girl's boyfriend is a bit of a twat, isn't he?"
Or maybe I should get really stoned before we go. Although on second thoughts, conversations about opening up a chain of shops that sells individual plugs might get a tad moribund (Thanks Alan Partridge).
I can't believe that within five minutes of meeting the guy I work with and his wife, The Girl tells them that we broke my bed!
Oh and I've finally changed the songs in the jukebox thingy on the right. Just a straight upload of the last five songs my player played. That Ingrid Chavez one is a killer though.
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