Sprig of lucky heather dearie?

Well, lets be fair. I need it.

I am a fairly unlucky person. In fact it's fair to say that I am one of the most unlucky and accident-prone people outside of the the Darwin Awards.

Last night was a perfect example. What started as a nice easy night at work quickly slid downhill into problems of mammoth proportions.

I arrived at my meeting spot with a colleague so we could head to Calais, at which point it was seen that not one, but both of has, had a headlight blown. Easy to solve, I hear you cry; and one would certainly think so.

We both had spare bulbs, but of course they were the wrong ones. We spoke to the truck company and they said get the old bulb out of the other truck and go and buy some new ones. To do this we would need to tip the cab forward at a 45-degree angle. So far so good (apart from being horribly late by now). We tip the cab, retrieve the bulb and then find out that the cab is stuck in the 'down' position. Shit.

Truck company says "Hmm, we dont know how to fix that - why dont you go and buy some bulbs in the other (my) truck, and when you come back we will have found out" Here we go, we are very late now and a touch pissed off. Anyway, after negotiating various roadworks, road closures, and police diversions we arrived in Paris to buy some bulbs from a service station. Once we have done this we remount (don't even think abou that) my truck to find that the ignition barrel has broken and I can't get the key in.

So now we have 2 trucks broken down, out of a possible 2, some 20km apart from one another. After waiting for three and a half hours, a student-type mechanic arrives who can't fix it.

Sigh. Now we have to wait for the two backup drivers to arrive from London. Another few hours passes and one of them has got lost and the other one has forotten and gone to do his deliveries.

By the way, it is now 6am, pretty damn cold, the windows are open and uncloseable as electric and we're both wearing shorts.

We were finally rescued around 7am, having sat in the service area for around 8 hours. What a night.

Oh and by the way, they can't repair my truck until Monday. Life gets better. Only 8 more shifts until I go on holiday - thank fuck for that.

Grolsched!

Well, it seems like the spirit of transatlantic telepathy is going strong, as I have ended my weekend in the exact same sorry state as Phut.

Yes, thats right - I am Grolsched. This is when you have drunk too much of the silver canned lager in the previous 24 hours. It's not like a normal hangover, oh no - they're easy to deal with. This is more like living embalmment, it feels like every ounce of liquid has been sucked out through your pores and your internal organs have been done over with a tenderizer. I am feeling very lucky that I do not have have to drive to Calais tonight so I can drink lots of water and relax.

My weekend was pretty standard - went to the girlfriends old flat to remove some furniture to chez nous, and actually ended up just talking to the neighbours for a while before hightailing it back home to settle in our normal outside table at the local bar. In retrospect, this was where my problems started, as I don't recall breathing air after that - only wine, lager and Jack.

I managed to raise my level of awareness briefly on Sunday to go out shopping for a while, but managed to stand my ground when it came to the suggestion of "popping into Ikea for a while", which we all know is not possible. I will lament Ikea in a future post.

Back home and thats when the serious drinking started. It finished at 6am this morning when I ran out of lager. Both unfortunate and highly fortunate I think, as it forced me to go to bed.

Nuke This!

Missile Bases :: 20th Century Castles, Unique underground properties.

This is something else.

Apart from the obvious drawbacks of living somewhere deep in the MidWest, this looks absolutely brilliant - a company is selling former ICBM and SAM missile bases converted into luxury homes.

You could have some great parties here, just try not to get too "bombed"

*author takes no responsibility for shit puns*

D'oh!

Pot activists forget to file signature petitions

In yet another instance of The Simpsons echoing real-life, stoners in Arizona copied the marijuana episode.

This is without a doubt, pure comedy gold.

"I can't believe we zoned on the date"

Fish are shit.

See that? That's how strongly I feel on this subject - none of your obscure, slightly offbeat headlines for this post. It does exactly what is says on the tin. Fish. Are. Shit.

Millions of years of evolution on this planet has passed, and these horrible slimy little bastards have still not figured out that the way forward is to have legs and mobile phones. Oh no, they're still swimming around in salt water, breathing water and eating the regurgitations of other fish.

They are also stupendously ugly, take a look at this scaly pin-up:



He's a beauty isn't he? Funny though, I suppose there are a couple of comparisons that can be made with land based mammals:



OK so Hawking is clever, but he can't walk of use a phone either. He's also pretentious (born in Kent, speaks with an American accent). But I'm getting off the subject.

Most of these things live in the dark, which is a pretty good idea I suppose - if I looked like that I wouldn't want too many lights around.

Worse is the fact that people eat them as well. I realise this proves our superiority in the food chain, but they don't even taste very nice. How good would you taste after years in the sea eh?

"Finding Nemo" attempted to delve into the mysterious world of the fish, and all it did was once again prove how rubbish they are. Here is a little list of things that fish, after turning up on the earth well before humans, have still not managed to master:

1. Driving. Not very clever, takes ages from A to B
2. Computers. Too much water make Nemo go fizzle, no?
3. Shoelaces. Hah! Bet you wish you had opposable thumbs now eh?


There are many others, far to numerous to list, but this at least, is fish-food for thought.

Whoops!

OK, it's my fault. Lets get that out in the open.

I told you last week that I needed to refrain from predictions, and I have. However, I did not take into account previous predictions I had made on this site. One of them of course was that "England would progress to the inevitable penalty shootout".

Well, as we all know by now, they did, and unfortunately lost to the greasy Portugese. Fair play to David Beckham and all the England team, in this tournament they really did us proud. We all look forward to the World Cup in 2006.

Also, my pal Phut now has his blog up and running - head over to The Diary of Phut to take a look. He's just as inane as I am, but tends to say "fuck" a little bit more. On the other hand, perhaps fucking not.

Quarter-final time

So the Euro 2004 quarter-final between England and Portugal is tonight.

Just one word. Please

I also currently think that both the sun (not the newspaper) and spiders are quite impressive, however I will need to carry out some research before I post about them.

Snap, crackle and BOSH

This is terrible.

Last night was perhaps one of the finest performances that England have shown as a team, and I had to listen to it on the worst possible medium wave reception. It was so bad that at times you could almost understand what John Motson was saying.

I am certain that I annoyed the large majority of French drivers last night driving through Paris listening to the game, as any time that anything exciting was happening, I would slow down to listen to it before I went into a tunnel so as not to miss the fun. Then once I was in the tunnel I would drive like a headcase to get out of it again.

So, we won. So did the French. You know what that means - a France v England final is still a possibility. Believe me, if that happens then I am on the first plane out of here to go to a real English pub.

And didn't our young baby elephant do well. Another 2 goals and he's still only 18. Incredible.



Oh wait, thats not him.



That's the laddie.

Also, I still don't like fish. More on that to come.

It's been a while

So I haven't been around to make a post for a few days so I thought I'd try and catch up.

Firstly, the football. After a not particularly convincing display, England managed to defeat the mighty Swiss (never thought I'd say that phrase) by 3 goals to 0. Whichever way you look at it, it's the result that counts (game of two halves, sick as a parrot) so now all we need is a draw against Croatia tonight to advance into the knockout phase for the first time that we haven't hosted the tournament.

Regardless of this, on my scouring the web I did manage to come across a great little number that was made by the micks after that unfortunate France game. This is brilliant

Go on the boys tonight, make us proud.

In other news, I have been away to Brittany for the weekend for a family bash with the in-laws. All the time I have been in France I have been lording up the French public transportation system, so imagine my surprise when the clean, efficient and on time TGV I was travelling on mowed down a car on a level crossing. I think we can all guess where the driver of the car came from (see Belgians and skinned knees)

I sat there for TWO HOURS while the French police finished off their red wine and garlic lunch and gently ambled toward the crash site. The benefit was that I managed to learn some new French swear words from my unhappy co-passengers who took great delight informing me that I was mistaken in my trust in the transport system.

Then it was Sunday, and time for a "light meal" with the family to celebrate the Catholic Communion of one of the younger members of the clan.

This consisted of the following: beginning at 1.00 with an enormous plats de fruits de mer of crabs, lobsters, prawns, shrimps etc (yes I know they are probably the same thing); then Coquilles St Jacques (a fishy thing in cream again); fillet of beef; a salad; cheesboard and finally (FINALLY) some gateau.

Now those of you that know me will realise I don't particularly like fish, but I will save that for a future post. So there I am sitting there, feeling a little unwell through eating too much and noting the time of 5.00. I was then informed that we were going to a bar and a casino to "work up an appetite" for the 5 course evening meal beginning in two hours.

No wonder these people only work 35 hours a week, after they've finished eating there's no time left to do anything else. I felt a little overweight by the time I had finished, and the copious amounts of wine that I had drunk served me well in facilitating my falling asleep in the car on the way home.

I'm not eating again for days.

Do you want fries with that?

Let me introduce you to someone.

This is Johnny.



Johnny works for one of the two major fast food retailers. I won't mention who, but it's McDonalds.

Also, Johnny has a name badge. It has the name stuck on at a wonky angle with one of those plastic letter punch machines, and it has one notable feature. It has no stars on it.

This is the seventh circle of hell. It is a cast iron guarantee that your order will be wrong, you will find a couple of rogue Deluxe Potatoes in your fries, there will be that entertaining incident where he closes the till before he has given you your change and has to suffer wholehearted abuse from the 15 year old mini-Hitler supervisor, and his eyes will raise to the ceiling as if on strings every time you ask for anything.

McDonalds utilise a rating system for their staff, meaning that there are 5 spaces for stars that you fill as you become more experienced at working there. It has always been misconcepted that you receive 5 stars if you manage to stay there all day, but thanks to my diligence I can reveal here what each star is for:

Star no.1 - The basics. Do you hate life and work? To pass this section, you must show complete disdain for all customers. The easy way to pass is to sigh loudly every time someone speaks to you.

Star no.2 - AES. Arse Elbow Syndrome. This is a genetic star, which is why the majority of 2 star and above staff look very similar. It is the ability to get everything wrong without even thinking about it. This is also found in Politics and Belgium.

Star no.3 - Have you washed your hands? Within the last 24 hours (48 if you promise you haven't been masturbating.

Star no.4 - Nonsensical question lines. The accepted form is this:

Customer - "Can I have a large Coke please?"
Johnny - "Do you want fries with that?"

See what I mean? They are drilled to think that the customer is not always right, and more importantly that the customer does not even know what he came in the shop for (please note that I will not call it a restaurant). However there is an easy way to defeat this. Simply ask for a portion of fries. They will be so amazed that someone has pre-empted them so easily that they will go into a form of temporary mental stasis until such time as someone starts yelling that the orange juice machine is broken.

Star no.5 - This one is the final hurdle. It happens approximately one week after joining when the newly bestarred young Johnny opens his pay packet. If he shrugs and accepts it and doesn't start yelling about child labour, that's it! It's that simple!

Johnny now has 5 stars. He is a fully qualified idiot. He will now be rewarded with an enamel badge with the requisite full star area, and his very own place on the Employee of the Month board.

God bless you McDonalds, thank you for your contribution to the worlds frustration.

By the way, if you've got this far - there is a new games section over there on the right.

Mystic Peg

I have to stop making predictions. I mean I really have to.

Only last week in this column, I pointed out that England would lose to the French at the footy. I was right, but never could I imagine that it would happen in such a horrible way. We actually played well, until our genius of a manager brought on that clown-shoes Heskey, who promptly fell over a lot and gave away the free kick at the end. He probably didn't receive his pre-match cuddle from the manager.

We all knew it would happen, but now it has it doesn't help matters. And also, it appears that is links in quite well with my previous post about clowns. Heskey certainly has now claimed his place among the ranks of the grease-painted freakos, we are sure he will fit in there well.

Oh well, it will improve. All we need to do now is win all our remaining games and then we got a chance of getting our own back on the French.

Pictures from the weekend to follow very soon.

Send in the clowns....

Clowns.

Life and soul of a childrens party, as part of it as jelly and ice cream. Also scarier than a shit with teeth.

Let me give you an example:



See what I mean?? These creatures are just plain wrong, they're the embodiment of evil. In fact in medieval times they were used as a representation on the devil, so whats the deal with using them to scare children at parties?

It's not just that, its the whole lot. OK, we've all tried to get a few mates in the car on the way back from the pub - but all of your own kind? Doesn't work - no wonder their cars are always falling apart. The shoes - obviously something to hide. The make-up? - I'm not even sure if I want to even think about men wearing make up.

Perhaps I am clownophobic, it's possible, but I can't think of any reason to like them. In the entire of history I have only ever found one clown I liked, Krusty. And look at HIM! He drinks, gambles, womanises....what is there not to like? But he's not much of a role model for kids.

So from this moment on, I propose a pogrom on clowns. If you see one, kick him in the plums. If he's not looking, whack him over the head with a piece of pipe. We owe it to our children to rid the world of these evil creatures.

In other news, Ray Charles is dead. Bet he didn't see that coming.

Football relief is at hand

BBC NEWS | UK | Injury warning for armchair fans

Our heroes, at the Chartered Society of Physiotherapists, have issued a Euro 2004 guide on how to avoid injury whilst watching the football tournament.

A good idea all in all - except for their final advice of cutting down on smoking, caffeine and alcohol.

It seems to me they haven't watched England play in some time, as these are staples for the inevitable penalty shootout.

Keep this site bookmarked to see the photos from the upcoming France v England game when a lot of Brits descend upon France for the game.

Belgians and skinned knees

Do you remember "Jeux sans frontiers"?

If you don't, it was the international version of the much loved TV show "It's a knockout". I remember those balmy Saturdays watching lots of English people dressed in funny clothes milling around whilst jammed in an obstacle while the Germans went racing past to the end. The only thing that varied the format was a group of highly uncoordinated and physically impaired people rushing hither and thither across the field of play, getting in everyones way and generally not making much in the way of progress.

Thats right, HERE COME THE BELGIANS. Whilst working last night, it occurred to me that there is a distinct similarity between this madhat game of the 1980's, and driving on European roads today.

The parallels are astonishing, as I am sure anyone who has driven on the continent will agree. The English are too polite, the Germans just want to get there first and the Belgians, well, they're just not very good are they?

After surviving this hair-raising experience and finally arriving in my half-way destination of Calais (The jewel of the north), I turned my own hand to It's a Knockout style japery and vaulted across the central reservation to collect my new vehicle. Unfortunately "vaulted" is an optimistic way of describing it. "Falling over in a heap" is perhaps a little more accurate.

As a result, I sit here now looking more like a schoolboy than ever, with plasters everywhere and a matching pair of skinned knees. You know, I'd forgotten quite how much they hurt, and also quite how stupid they look with shorts.



Handsome eh?

Monday again

I can't believe it's time to go to work again.

If nothing else at least the weather is nice (somewhere around 30C, not sure what that is in mph), so I will be able to drive around in the sun - at least until it gets dark, then I can suffer the indignity of watching a whole night go past without any sleep.

Also the countdown to the England v France football match has begun, only 6 days now. At that point a load of English folks will be descending upon my sleepy little French ville to drink too much and torment the natives.

Shame really, cos we know France are going to win.

Bedtime for Bonzo

What with all the D-day shenanigans, I completely forgot the time had finally run out for the Gipper.

Whatever you may think of him (mad) and whatever his political approach was (mad), he was a very well loved man by Americans and Europeans alike. Except perhaps the Russians.

He was the first US President I knew of to have his own Trivial Pursuit question (Who said "Honey, I forgot to duck"?) but as he was the Prez during my formative years I will always remember the sabre rattling and bear baiting that became his trademark. That and a sneaking suspicion that he and Maggie Thatcher were getting it on.

I also think I had him in a dead pool sometime, I will have to look into that.

D-Day

It's June 6th and today is the 60th anniversary of the Normandy landings.

Now in the UK, it is seen as an important date, and yes of course there is an amount of respect accorded to those who fought and died on this momentous day.

However, here in France it is something far far more important. It represents the day that France once again became free from the evil hand of those dastardly Germans. TV coverage of the celebrations have been on non-stop since this morning, and show no signs of abating. Personally I feel that it should be this way and that we should celebrate this in the UK in a much more open way.

On a lighter note, what the hell was Gerhard Schroeder doing there? I know things have changed in Europe and Germany is now our friend, but I bet you don't get too many Vietnamese at US war ceremonies do you?

To all those involved in those operations and the wars and defence of our countries in general, we salute you.

Photoshop competitions and the like

Don't forget to head over to our newly started Photoshop Competitions on Tims site.

Don't forget to register and join in the fun.

PS sunny as hell here, I'm going out.

And so it begins.

The first post of my new site - how exciting can it get?

Seeing as I have been mindlessly surfing the web for a number of years, I felt it was about time that I began to share my experiences with others. Not many people will be even slightly interested, but it's a good way of keeping people up-to-date and, if I'm lucky, smiling.

Where do I start? It's a tough one. Well, basic info is in the profile over there, so I won't bother touching on that too much. Probably best if I just launch into a blow-by-blow account of the thoroughly exciting things I have been up to.

Pretty easy day today, lovely weather so Emilie and I (Emilie being my lovely girlfriend) decided to take advantage of it by spending it in a shopping centre. It was marvellous, the concept of haemorrhaging money in a short space of time always appeals to me.

We are due to have guests for dinner this evening who are going to arrive any minute, so I will leave my initial post in that slightly cliffhanging, enigmatic way.

Until next time.