custom kitchen deliver ayeeyayeeyays...

So, here I am shadowing a friend at work. This friend has a 'job'. I have been given the chance to see if I would like to be trained up to do this 'job'. I have come in for coupla days/nights to look around, ask questions and figure out if it's the kind of thing I'd like to get involved in to earn some money. To be honest I don't really have much choice. Something's got to give around here if I'm gonna keep my head above water. I've got to do something other than sit round my flat, scratching my arse occasionally and phoning my agent once a week - so it's kind of a given that, if I'm offered the chance to work here, I'm gonna have to take it.
So anyway, I've got all ready to come and do this...I've had a few sessions with my mate at his house so that I know some of the terminology, I've got a few notes and diagrams together...you know, it's kind of a big deal - something that I don't want to fuck up.
And here I am, six hours in, messing around on a computer, surfing the internet, and e-mailing me mates.
That's what people do all day.
Wow.
Obviously, this is no surprise to most people, because most people have 'jobs' in offices and spend most of their time (their boss' time, actually) surfing the internet and e-mailing their friends. But to me it's a bit of a shock. I mean, I was told, before I came here, that one of the most important things not to do here was to fall asleep. Now, it so happens that my friend is 'in charge' this evening and already he's nodded off twice. Dang. Another thing I was told was important was not to turn up late. And lo and behold, one of the staffers has just turned up two hours late (apparently having been to casualty with chest pains...oh yeah) spent an hour online trying to get out of paying a couple parking tickets and then...yup you guessed it..nodded off.
Alright, alright, I won't bitch about trying to get out of paying parking fines. We all would if we could.
Actually, I've devised a really good, nearly foolproof method of not paying parking fines. If you're interested, leave a comment here when you've finished and I'll tell you how you too can take advantage of this legal loophole.
Actually, don't. I'll only send you a message back saying, 'DON'T PARK ON YELLOW LINES, SPASTIC' and that would be shit.
Stupid, smug, smart arsed shit.
Cor, times dragging on a bit.
Fuck this, I'm going to have a kip.

a poem i wrote for the canadian FBI...

just for the record:
i love people and i hate guns.

oh yeah:
work rocks,
school rocks,
life rocks,
what more can i say?

robert palmer

robert palmer...

So...a friend of mine is 'downsizing' his business.
It's ten o'clock on Sunday night and we're clearing out his office.
I remember that it's not so long ago that I helped him move all the stuff in there. He got it all on ebay, very cheap, and now that he doesn't need it anymore, he just wants to get rid of it.
We're loading up the van with all the furniture and the plan is to take it all to the tip tomorrow morning.
Now, I can understand why he wants to do it all on a Sunday night; it's a rented office in a big building so during the week it would just take ages, with all the other people in the corridors and the lifts and stuff...but there is a tiny part of my overactive imagination that thinks, "Maybe he's in a spot of real bother and he needs to do a runner, and on Monday morning all his staff are going to turn up to work and find an empty office."
So anyway, there we are, loading up the van and when we get halfway through, it becomes apparent that it isn't all going to fit in.
Dang.
We stand there and scratch our heads for a minute.
"Well, it all fitted in when we brought it here..."
"Maybe we could leave some of the chairs here; they're nice chairs...no one will mind."
Shit. It all has to be out tonight, there's nowhere to store it except in the van which it doesn't fit into, and we can't just dump it in the street. Shit.
Then we notice another van that has already gone past us a few times and seems to be watching us.
It pulls up and a bloke gets out.
"Excuse me, lads...erm, I couldn't help noticing that you seem to be moving out of that office there and I er...just er...wanted to ask you...erm...none of that stuff's for sale, is it? Only, I'm s'posed to be moving into this office next door and I need a few bits and pieces to deck the place out."
Woah.
Me and my friend look at each other.
My friend's like, "Well...yeah...which bits do you want?"
The bloke's like, "Erm, what have you got in there?"
So we pull a few bits out and show them to him and he looks at them all and ums and ahhs, "Well, I could really do with a couple of those filing cabinets and two chairs...how much do you want for them?"
Ok...my friend's a salesman, right? That's his gig, quite hardcore sales stuff, so I''m expecting him to spring into action here.
"Just make us an offer, mate," he says, "We're going to chuck it all tomorrow anyway, so tell us what's on your mind and we'll work something out."
The bloke ums and ahhs again. A lot. "Hmm, well...I really don't know what any of this stuff's worth...I was going to look into it next week, you know...I wasn't going to buy anything until..."
At this point I VERY NEARLY took matters into my own hands and said, "Give us a hundred quid and you can have the lot."
"A score," says my friend.
"Erm...I'm sorry, I don't know, what's 'a score'?"
"It's twenty quid."
"Well...hmm, like I said, I really don't know what any of this is worth...tell you what: twenty five, is that ok?"
Me and my friend look at each other.
"Yup, that's fine."
Oh, my days.
And then, after we've taken the stuff out and the bloke's about to hand over the money, my friend says, "Look it's all going in the bin tomorrow, feel free to take another filing cabinet, if you want one," meaning, you know, have it, for free.
The bloke goes, "Ok, I tell you what...ummm...ahhh...thirty quid for three cabinets and two chairs."
So, there you go.
When we'd gotten over ourselves and stopped crying with laughter, the rest of the stuff fitted into the van a treat.


Currently Listening :
Some Guys Have All the Luck
By Robert Palmer

ass kiss

well...
i may or may not have had to sit through 72 hours of music videos lately.
ok go? kiss my ass.
the only one of any note is beck's 'cell phone's dead'...



...and none of you is as cool as the drummer in that thing.

radio 4

Hmmm,
When I hear news readers talking about the seriousness of the recent nuclear tests in North Korea, I can't help thinking to myself that their capital, Pyongyang, sounds like a ricochet in a spaghetti western.
"Hey, Blondie!"



So why is it that ..a little lad.. can change the history of our great nation?
Well, it's because there will always be sanctimonious c***s like David Blunkett who will try and freeload a political lift to the moral high ground on the backs of their (the little lad's) innocent and unknowing remarks.
I just listened to D.B. himself reading extracts from his own book on bbc radio 4. Shameless self promotion by a bitter twisted 'could have been' nation builder?
No.
Mindless carping and score settling by a saddo who is all too used to the idea that everyday people are there to indulge and pay for the privilege of hearing his opinion.
Anyway, here are some free jokes:

How many casting directors does it take to change a light bulb?
None, they'll just use the same light bulb over and over, even if it's broken.

Why will North Korea and Japan never resolve their differences?
Because neither side can say, 'Sorry'.

Peace, sellah.
And, a moonman bj...


yes, a moonman bj...

hello, please...

me and er

So there's all these dudes on the internet telling you things and making 'information' available. Hmm...interesting.
Were the moon landings faked? Did George W. arrange the 9/11 thing? Are the Baha'is going to unite all world religions? HAVE YOU WON A FREE IPOD?
It's great isn't it? It's all really interesting stuff and really exciting.
And then there's a little questionaire.
I studied psychology at college. I didn't do very well for several reasons - among them; sexual politics (Sexual politics? Sexual politics? If there are two concepts that should never try and be bedfellows they are sex and politics), boring teachers and more sexual politics (dang).
I got an 'F'.
Or was it a 'U'?
Mebbe it was an 'FU'.
Anyways, the way psychology was presented to me was as a scientific endeavour to understand the human mind and the human condition. It seemed that since psychology's beginnings there had a been a huge amount of heavily funded research into things like perception, motivation, behaviour...all that shit, 'mind as machine' shit. And it all seemed very interesting...Loads of guys in labs wiring up dogs and students and getting them to do all sorts of stuff and doing all sorts of stuff to them. And they seemed to be coming up with all sorts of interesting answers...they could tell you why you see invisible white triangles, they could show you how 'bad' people could be if you gave them uniforms, they could even teach monkeys sign language. Cute.
Now, as I said, I didn't do very well in class so my facts might not be rock solid on this next bit;
My view of psychology now is this:
Most of the famous psychological research was funded by the american government in response to things that they saw happening to their soldiers at the hands of the Koreans with their 'brainwashing' techniques. Someone was able to get to their troops, which they had put there at enormous cost to themselves, and completely undermine all their training and preparation without firing any guns. All, apparently, with a few well placed 'fliers' and a sympathetic looking dude behind a desk.
They didn't like that.
They did, however, like the idea that you could manipulate and subvert not just people's wants and desires but their fundamental beliefs, their ideas...and shit. And that seemed, to them, to be worth looking into in great detail.
What did they find out?
Not fucking much.
To my mind the upshot of all that money being spent, all those unnecessary lobotamies, and all those monkeys chatting away in sign language is this:
You can now walk down any street with shops on it and pay about three quid for a coffee.
Yup, that's it.
Starbucks.
Ipods.
Advertising.
That's all you get.
That and maybe a few footnotes in boot camp training manuals (teach them how to fold up their pants BEFORE you give them the gun).
So yeah, there's all this information out there for free. Who puts it there? Why are they being so nice? Well because they love you of course. And they love that three quid that you're hardly going to notice spending.
So next time you fill out some form online (those personality tests are fun, aren't they?) or tell a stranger your email address, don't worry...it's not the beginning of the end, it's not an erosion of your civil liberties to have a store loyalty card. They just want to get to know you, to get to know you so that they can help you. If they know who you are and where you live they can make sure that there's one of those lovely coffee shops right outside your house. Cool, eh?

Look, it's no big deal...you don't want it to happen? Don't buy the coffee.
Tell you what, come round mine, I'm just about to make some.
It's only two quid.
If you have two you can have them for three quid.
Oh, do you like cakes? I've got some really nice ones here.
They're four quid.
Tell you what, why don't you take this empty book away with you and every time you come back and have two more coffees I'll put a little tick in the book and when you come back with all seven hundred pages filled up with little ticks I'll give you another coffee for free! Or two more for one quid. Or two more and a slice of cake for three quid.
Washoe, over there, will take care of your order. When she does this with her hands [gestures] that means, 'Your coffee is ready'.
Help yourself to milk and sugar.