Monday, February 28, 2005
Killing
I asked for suggestions for theme words for the swear tin this week ( we got too clever and avoided actual swearwords, so the charity which benefits from our transgressions was suffering).
No-one came up with anything, so I chose the lot (especially as it's only a three-day week for me*).
So - "Computer" "My computer's hung". 10p levy.
"Is that computer spare?" Another 10p.
"Broker" (the species we deal with). "There's a broker coming in to see you". Candy from a baby.
"Prague*" It's where I'm taking Mrs.D. for her 50th, so a deliberate own goal there, to avoid criticism of bias.
"Mobile" "Whose ruddy mobile is that appalling ringtone coming from?"
We'll make a killing!
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:26 AM
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Friday, February 25, 2005
Just the thought of it..
"Today's lyric" makes me want to be somewhere else, the sun warming my bones, my nose not running, my head not spinning and muzzy from lack of sleep last night.
A balmy Greek island, lying on the sand with my feet in the cooling sea.
Hold that thought..
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:31 AM
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Thursday, February 24, 2005
Stinker
I've got
another head cold - the second in as many months. Colds sent my personal thermostat into hyperdrive, so while everyone's mooching around today complaining about the freezing weather, I'm managing to perspire in a short-sleeved shirt.
Maybe that's why everything was in sharp focus yesterday?
Ah well, Nurofen sandwiches for lunch.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 12:09 PM
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Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Sharp
They say that your senses heighten just before a momentous event. Like Death.
Nearly 52 now, I don't (yet) wear glasses or lenses, can look at a monitor all day and can count the windows on distant buildings.
Burbling through suburbia this morning, the view from the train window seemed razor-focussed, even for my eyes. Perhaps it's just clear, clean air, after the snow.
And, suddenly, it's daylight when I leave for the station.
But even Rod's band seemed ultra-fi through the earphones this morning?
* checks pulse * Yep, still here.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:47 AM
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Tuesday, February 22, 2005
At least
At least today we were delivered to our chosen destination. Yesterday morning, as we pulled out of East Croydon, our train driver announced that we
weren’t going to London Bridge as planned, but Victoria. (Overrunning engineering works – clearly not foreseeable until we were within sight of them?). And obviously, we weren’t the only rerouted ‘service’ as hordes of people were decanted into a Monday morning terminus which would have been heaving without our company.
And we were shuttled into the warmth of the Underground in batches, standing awaiting our turn and freezing our nadgers off (well, the blokes were, anyway).
So this morning, the platform announcement that there could be delays due to the weather were greeted with disbelieving groans. Don’t these people watch the news? The meteorologists have been predicting snowfall for a week now and icy tracks could cause speed restrictions?
What a way to run a railway?
# posted by Mr.D. @ 9:56 AM
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Thursday, February 17, 2005
Auto-responsive
I woke in the dark to hear one of our three Burmese cats auditioning for Shrek 3.
You know the noise. It's like when you're talking to God and Huey down the big white telephone, and you're coming to the end of the three-way conversation. De Banderas captured it
perfectly in Shrek 2.
And previous experiences automatically conditioned me, even in my half-asleep state, to check the pillow for third-party bodily fluids.
None (at least on
my side).
So a totally selfish slide back into Zzzsland.
Slightly vindicated/absolved this morning though - it was obviously all 'talk' and no action.
btw
The Man is 43 today - go congratulate.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:25 AM
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Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Credit
Ingenue that I was (maybe still am - who knows? probably everyone except me) I didn't understand what the Stones' reference to "brown sugar" actually meant.
Equally, I was clearly being a tad naive when I decided to play Zeppelin's "Lemon Song" to my mum. "Mum, this is brilliant - listen!".
I kid you not.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:23 AM
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Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Bt
An on-line quiz recently defined me as a "word warrior".
It's fair to say that I always have enjoyed reading, phonetics, etymology. Being able to parse sentences. Appreciating sibilance, alliteration. You get the picture..
And bt (b4 txtspk) I always found these things amusing. Does anyone know if there's a name for this style of, what, poetry?
yy u r
yy u b
i c u r
yy 4 me
or
l o
l o
a q i c
i 8 2 q
b 4 i p
Little things..
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:33 AM
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Monday, February 14, 2005
Computer says "No"
"Hi, how are you?"
"Not so good, today."
"Maybe it'll get better."
I heard a story about someone's former colleague. He was going through a rough patch at home. Divorce. You know.
It began to affect his work. Eventually they 'had to let him go'.
When they went to clear down his e-mails, he'd been writing to himself, asking how he was today? Maybe it'll get better later, he'd answered himself. There were hundreds of them.
Conversations with a computer. Very sad.
* look up and realise what I'm doing *
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:27 AM
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Monday, February 07, 2005
Whacked
The lugubrious
Mr Tuckman met us at the door, his twitching cane a permanent fixture in his right hand. I would get to know that cane personally during the evening…
The bride to be enjoyed her “Chicken Evening” immensely. The Head Girl and her fellow ‘pupils’ ensured that drink flowed and the school meals arrived hot (late, but very tasty and not at all like I remembered school food to be).
Only us schoolboys were subjected to spankings. A groom and his best man declined the ‘offer’, suggesting that in these days of equality, the schoolgirls got caned instead? “If you want that, sunshine” quipped the Head Girl, “find yourself a one-handed website”. Huge applause all round, at that.
The compere compounded their ill-advised decision not to participate by asking the school to “Give me a W”, “Give me an A”, “Give me an N” (you could see where this was going..) Cue second burst of applause.
And then the bride-to-be nominated
me for a caning! I took the first five without a murmur. Then the second five. And because I was
still grinning, they finished me off with a full six.
With c. 35 pupils, it had the feel of a private class and a bigger attendance might have made for a rowdier evening, but it was just the right side of tacky and we have the photographic evidence. In deference to my work colleagues’ sensibilities, these will not be posted here (though there may be some indistinguishable ‘profiles’ that are webworthy).
But only if you ask nicely…
# posted by Mr.D. @ 1:12 PM
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Friday, February 04, 2005
Chicken evening*
* see yesterday's post, for explanation.
And thanks again to
Elsie and
Soapy for their inestimable advice and recommendations.
Toads and flick-knives weren't too thick on the ground yesterday, as it happened, so I'm in the market (probably Petticoat Lane) today for a catapult. (Having totally forgotten that there is a
huge F-off magapult in my fishing tackle box - D'oh!)
Fortunately, Mrs.D. is unusually not working tomorrow, so an undisturbed lay-in (translated as hangover sleep-off) is
definitely on the cards.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:48 AM
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Thursday, February 03, 2005
When "uniform" is a dirty word
Two thirds of the proceeds from the office swear tin goes
here and the balance to our self-funded Sports and Social kitty. A reasonable compromise, methinks. (The tin says "Oh, sh1t" when fed.)
But it's not the usual profanities that bring home the bacon - because everyone got very wise to that very quickly and the tin wasn't saying much.
So we have words (or phrases) of the week - topical stuff which is guaranteed to catch everyone out. Including regular visitors who know that a charity benefits and so are happy to chip in.
And as we're all going
here tomorrow night for a colleague's hen night (or "chicken evening" as it's had to be called this week, for fear of fine!) "tie" and "uniform" have also been on the proscribed list.
It'll be my first such evening - I'm nervous! Do I cut down a pair of perfectly good black trousers to make shorts (remember, it's February out there), or rip the arm off of an old shirt and wear Number One Son's old school tie skew wiff?
Answers on the back of a packet of Woodbines, please.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:30 AM
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Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Relief
Since I started this commuting lark, almost a year ago now, a middle-aged couple have invariably shared the platform/train with me on a regular basis, with the occasional holiday breaks (obviously abroad) from which they return suntanned and clearly relaxed. There are, of course, other 'regulars' sharing the delights of transport courtesy (sic) of "Southern", but these two stand out because they are evidently very happy in each others' company. At London Bridge, they separate and go their different ways to work; I never see them for the return home trip.
A news article about the tsunami yesterday jogged me to thinking that I hadn't seen them since Christmas? Now, emotionally, they mean absolutely nothing to me, but when you share the same airspace with people on a regular basis, you do feel a sort of 'kindred spirit' somehow? I mentioned this to Number One Daughter, who replied that I'd become a stalker. "No", I countered, "it's just that unless you walk around with your eyes shut, you're bound to notice events or situations that repeat regularly?".
"And knowing that they work in different sites (which does, I admit, make me seem a bit stalkerish!), it's unlikely that the spectre of redundancy had hit them both simultaneously."
Anyway, they were both on the platform this morning. So that's Ok then.
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:34 AM
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Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Promises, promises
I did say that I'd review the SACD version of
Tubular Bells once I'd bought it..
It must be at least 15 years since I last played the original vinyl copy and I'd quite forgotten how cleverly it was put together, all those years ago. The guy must have kept a metronome in his head?
The late, great Viv Stanshall's enthusiastic introduction of the various instruments played by Mr Oldfield comes ringing out of the left-of-centre speaker. I do miss him. Does anyone out there remember the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band? What
was the name of the kids' tv programme they debuted on? Something that included a running sketch about Mrs Black and her Evil Handbag? Put me out of my misery, please.
update Courtesy of Mrs.D. - "Do not adjust your set". Ta, darlin'.
Viv's eccentric, surround-sound commentary during the Sailor's Hornpipe, when they lurch drunkenly around the wired rooms of the recording studio, is a joy to hear again. It may well have been staged, but the best ad-libs always are?
I'm fast finishing acquisition of the few SACD's that I'm actually interested in, but will 'collect the set' before the next audio-visual technology arrives and sweeps all before it..
# posted by Mr.D. @ 8:34 AM
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Drinking and Driving (but clearly not simultaneously)
