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Friday, October 31, 2003

My record buying stint continues, today it was Trojans Mod Reggae boxed set. Classic reggae and derivatives from the 60s. £9.99 for 3 cd's! There are about 10 boxes to the collection so I may have to add some to the wishlist.

I've always liked a bit of reggae, however, the spur for getting this set was Jonathon Ross last Saturday morning. He played Dr Kitch by Lord Kitchener which I'd never heard before, and considering the content I'm surprised I heard it at all on British radio. For those who don't know it, and I doubt many do, you can pick it up by listening to the broadcast here and head for the fourth record of the morning.

You probably won't want young kids or your maiden aunt listening in.

Wednesday, October 29, 2003

Whilst shopping yeterday I came across Quorn's new product - Balls Al Forno. Now, I'm not going to have anything Al Forno to start with , but if I did, I can't say that balls are the most appetizing description for a product to tempt me.

Sunday, October 26, 2003

Like the first cuckoo of spring and the first swallow of the summer I have spotted the first Christmas light bedecked house! For gods sake, there's still two months to go.

Has anyone else spotted any yet or can I claim the first?

Saturday, October 25, 2003

Bought a couple of cd's today. Simple Things by Zero 7 which is really for Linda who likes the track "In the Waiting Line". I got it for the unbelievably bargain price of £5.99 in HMVs sale, although all the others were marked up £5 higher. Then I finally relented and bought myself Heaven by DJ Sammy. I know, but I just find it all so bouncy and you can't be down when there's Europop on the stereo. Saved £2 over Amazon on this one as well. Bargains all round.

Actually I am going to get something from Amazon as JC wants The Fruity Bits of Ivor Biggun. Whilst there wasn't any really memorable up to date music in Blackpool, the DJ in Rumours played Ivor Bigguns Majorca Song a few times which JC enjoyed greatly. So a present is about to wing its way to him.

I spoke to my Mum this morning. She asked if I'd watched the Concorde flights. She was telling me she had and that she'd cried. I knew she'd be sad as she always wanted to go on it but I thought that was a bit unlike her. She then asked if I remembered when we'd first saw it back in the very early 70's. I said I did, and she told me that that outing was the last time my Grandma, her mum, had gone out with us before she went into hospital, never to come out again.

All this time, when my mum has seen Concorde, it reminded her of her mum to whom she was very very close. Now with Concorde going she feels she's lost the last really tangible link.

Curse you British Airways for making my mum cry!

I thought I might go through my links at the side and weed a few out but in the end I didn't have the heart to, instead I added another couple.

Friday, October 24, 2003

For once I'd agree. This is the end of an era.

How often do you hear journalists and commentators use that expression, but for me the last flight of Concorde really is that. I was lucky enough to see it fly well before it started commercial operations and whilst I was watching the coverage on television earlier, I also saw all three of them on their final approach from my kitchen window.

I can't believe they're stopping it and that I'll never hear it's engines again nor see it soaring through the air.

Blackpool Bulletin 3 - Kennamatics Behaving Badly

The last part of this years Blackpool trip is the most embarrasing, or at least the most shaming.

During the weekend we certainly put some beer away and I was surprised I hadn't had a hangover at all. It didn't take long to get properly into the swing of things and we put even more away during Sunday afternoons session than we had in the others. When we left Rumours, trophy thong in my pocket, we made our way back to the Hotel. JC rushed ahead as we were a bit late for dinner.

As I turned onto the Front there were a couple of girls walking along whom I'd seen a few times over the weekend but hadn't taken too much notice of although I did quite fancy one of them and we'd made a reasonable amount of eye contact, but somehow I kept looking for someone else. Without expecting anyone to plough through my archives, whenever I have hooked up with anyone in Blackpool they have always come from Yorkshire, and always south of Leeds. So far this weekend I have met girls from Notts, Derbyshire, Wales and admittedly, a friend from last year out of Hull but who wasn't having any of it. By 5 O'clock on Sunday even I'm willing to accept that this might be a "null point" year.

So we get chatting as we walk along and I ask if they are going back today or the next morning. They inform me they are leaving in about 10 minutes so I ask where they are going back to?

SHEFFIELD! AAAAAAaaaaaaarrrrrrgggghhh!

I couldn't believe it. I walked them to the hotel and I shot back over the road to our hotel and went straight to the other at the dinner table. I should point out at this point that the hotel we stay at tends to have a clientele with an average age of about 80. It's fine for us because we only use it for sleeping and food and it's convenient for where we want to be. That bit is rather relevant because I go and sit down and launch into a tirade about how distraught I am to have found my Yorkshire lasses ten minutes before they go home when I could have chatted with them much earlier. I said all this at the top of my voice. That might have been disturbing enough for some of the residents if I hadnt been peppering the conversation with swear words every other syllable. There were a few old ladies in there whose vocabulary increased somewhat that evening.

JC is trying to quieten me down but I'm well into it now, fuelled by god knows how much drink. Malcolm who was also in our party said perhaps I should pop back over the road to see if they were still there, so I did, instructing them to make sure "no one ****ing touches my ****ing dinner. So, knocking my chair over as I leave, I decide to go and see if they've left yet. They had. So I came back to report it to the others in much the same way as I'd related events 10 minutes earlier.

JC and Malcolm were more than pleased, as were most of the staff and residents, when we'd finished our meal and I left. Now how much I'd had to drink I'm not quite certain and certainly it had been my intention to catch up on a bit of sleep whilst there, although I knew I probably wouldn't do, but at 6:15 that evening I decided to have a quick lie down.

When I woke up at 7:45 the next morning I went down to breakfast to find out JC and the others had all but broken the door down to get in to wake me up but I was away with the fairies. Monday morning still saw me without a hangover and I played it cool, not referring to my antics of the evening before, and once the waitress had decided I was a little less "tired and emotional" this morning we all had a nice conversation.

It's many a long year since I caused that sort of commotion and I can't say I'm overly proud of myself, and I would have been fine if those girls had been from anywhere other than South Yorkshire. So if any female reading this is planning to visit Blackpool next October and they are from Rotherham, Sheffield, Barnsley, Doncaster, etc, could you please let me know on the Friday, Saturday latest, and not leave it until 5:20 on Sunday evening. I thank you.

Blackpool Bulletin 2 - With A Thong in my Heart

This pretty much follows on from bulletin 1 although you'll be pleased to know it shouldn't go on for quite so long. Then again, I will be adding in at least one aside.

Sunday lunchtime saw us back in Rumours. Sunday lunchtime is the time when the parties of girls who are across for the weekend get costumed up. There are usually bunches of "schoolgirls", nurses, nuns, and themed t-shirted groups trawling from bar to bar. One such crowd were "The Derby Devils". There were, I think, 26 of them, all dressed in red t-shirts with pointed tails sewn onto the back of them, wearing flashing horns and carrying large plastic tridents.

Time for an aside. Every year I've been up there there has been at least one song that has been the big record of the Blackpool year. These are records that I'll always associate with the weekends even if I don't like them. This year, there was nothing memorable at all. The only thing that was getting played in an attempt to fill the dancefloors in each bar was something I think might have been called The Cha-Cha Stomp. It's a cross between rap and line dancing if you can categorise it at all. It is too slow and even those who attempt to dance to it appear to find it way too boring to hold their interest.

The Derby Devils were offered a couple of bottles of champagne between them if they did the routine. This they did, and whilst the bubbly was being brought out the d.j. played Whigfields Saturday Night. This was a record I learnt the dance to at a friends wedding reception and I was lost in my thoughts but obviously with a big smile on my face as the next thing I knew one of The Devils came and grabbed me saying "It's no good laughing at us, you can join in as well". So off I went and joined the serried ranks of these Derbyshire ladies and stutted my stuff, rather impressively if you ask me, except for stepping on the girl behind me's foot at one point.

Now, you think that that is how I got the thong but you are wrong, that was just another aside.

By about 3:30 we'd decided we should stay in Rumours and who should turn up in a smallish party of girls, but the dark haired one from The Tower Bar the day before. We did the usual thing of looking at each other for half an hour or so and glancing away when the other one caught them when she obviously decided she should make a move. She split away from her crowd and went to one of the other free tables where I shot across to join her. I cannot tell you what her name was but they were from Wales. We got chatting and I was dragged back to her group and I called JC over. I was obviously having a weekend of mixed signals as I kept thinking she was interested and then that she wasn't, however, at one point I was telling her about my de-robing of the day before. Sometime after this I was presented with a size 18, BHS, flesh coloured thong althoguh I have no idea who it belonged to. I immediately donned them at their request, (over my trousers, thankyou), and though I say so myself, I suspect Larry Blackmon of Cameo could not have presented a more alluring sight with his codpiece worn over his trousers.

Ladies, I had the benefit of wearing these over trousers, but they are the type with the clear see-through straps which you often see on bras, the idea being that they are invisible but in reality they reflect any available light so they shine, somewhat defeating the object. They do seem to give good grip, and here comes the question. Can a thong using such straps be in the least bit comfortable? Can any thong be for that matter, but they just seem to be particularly painful potentially.

And really that was all there was to it, I didn't get off with the bird from Wales although she did mention where they were going to be on Sunday evening but that is what leads us into part three shortly.

Oh, and I still have the thong, but other than keeping them as a trophy I can't somehow see me doing a Beckham.

Thursday, October 23, 2003

Blackpool Bulletin 1 - And they're off!

I always like to point out at the beginning of any of my Blackpool entries that, if you are female, the rather sexist attitude that I display during my weekend away is kept just for that weekend and the rest of the year I am a well adjusted, sensitive, loving "new man". Of course, if you happen to be in the mood for a bit of extra curricular naughtiness, I can put my Blackpool head on at a moments notice!

Well, it appears there is a certain clammering to hear how I lost my pants, although somewhat worryingly, by the male populace of my reading public, however, who am I to deprive you of such pleasure.

Saturday afternoon saw me and the others starting off in Rumours aka The Knicker Bar, but having failed to get as far as The Tower Lounge on Friday, due to a possible liaison rearing it's head again from last year, although I ended up sorely disappointed both then and now, we ended up in the subtarranean bar under the Tower complex by around 3:30. There didn't seem to be a great deal of women there who were on the lookout for a rather overweight, grey-haired, slightly ratted gentleman so I decided I'd go for a shufty around the whole place to spot any potential amoreuse. I spotted a dark haired female who smiled as I went in her general direction but I passed by to complete the entire tour. Making my way back to J.C. (the mate I go with), I said there wasn't much about but I'd go see about the bird who'd smiled at me.

Having returned to the spot, she had disappeared into the crowd and I'm just charging my way through the throng when I bump into a group of three young ladies. One smiles at me and says hello and the next thing I know she's putting her hands under the hem of my t-shirt. Now I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I failed to prevent her from doing it. The next thing I know she's got hold of the waist band of my trolleys and she's yanking them upwards.

Over the years I have sported many styles and types of underpants, the humble Y-Fronts, hipsters, not long johns as far as I know, and in such materials as nylon, cotton, even lace on one occasion, but that is another story. Last saturday I was wearing this style though with only 5% lycra.

Now we all know that the property of Lycra is that it stretches, even when there is only 5%! It soon became obvious to my assailant that this was no posing pouch that I was wearing. By the time she had both sides stretched to my chest level she decided somewhat more desperate measures were required to divest me of my garment. She then proceeded to bite her way through the waistband on one side. Now there is a time and place when I no doubt would enjoy this greatly but at that precise moment I was contemplating whether I would choke on my orcheastras as they were heading northwards at a rate of knots!

With much ripping and chewing she got one side sorted. As I was in danger of being garotted into two, vertically, I decided that the best thing was to try and pull them off in the opposite direction, she however had other ideas. As I started to lift them to the left, hopefully releasing some of the pressure on my rapidly deteriorating undercarriage, she decided the best bet to save her moving too far was to bring it towards her over my head!

They were certainly stretching now. WARNING TO MY MALE READERS - DO NOT ATTEMPT TO READ THIS BIT UNLESS YOU ARE FEELING STRONG STOMACHED AND ARE SAT DOWN. At this point she has stretched the leg hole of my shorts to the point that the bottom end is jammed up into my gonads and the top end is being dragged over the top of my head, a distance of some 36 inches, not the original circumference of the said leghole, not even for my thighs.

To give her her due she was certainly determined, and with a giant heave and a great rending of material, and possibly flesh as well, they were now only attached to me by the gusset. More adept teeth and fingernail work finally won her the trophy and she passed them on to her two friends who whirled them Around their heads and flung them across the dance area.

At this point I decided I'd get my own back, but having slipped my hands into her jeans waistband she informed me she'd lost hers at least an hour earlier. Drat! That would have made enjoyable viewing!

So, as my voice descended three or four octaves back to it's normal level, she was kind enough to thank me for being a good sport and a quick kiss or two later and I was sent on my way sans undies. Whist changing clothes back at the hotel some hour or so later I discovered I still had one last strand of lycra left which was jammed between the cheeks of my arse, but that is probably too much information for any of us.

Wednesday, October 22, 2003

I helped out on an installation this afternoon and Adam, our main installer, used a phrase I haven't heard in years. Whilst cutting a piece of trim with a stanley knife he said "I could ride bare arsed to London on this knife!".That was a favourite phrase of my Grandma when she was sewing. She would try cutting material and get exasperated and suddenly say "I could ride bare arsed to London on these scissors!"

Two other phrases I associate with her were the well known "I'll go to t'foot of our stairs!", yes, people really do use that, and "I could call King George my uncle!" when she was full up after a meal.

Does your family have any unusual sayings?

How is it possible to have two working days off and find there's a two week backlog when you return!

Monday, October 20, 2003

I have returned! I was right about the sun and the beer, but unbelievably didn't have one hangover, and by God I deserved at least one!

I am mindful of Gerts comment to the previous entry but I'm afraid you must wait until tomorrow for all the happenings, but I can tell you there is the story of how I lost my underpants to three girls from Nottingham, obtained a thong from a Welsh party in exchange, and my tired and emotional hissy fit on Sunday evening and other stuff beside.

Tomorrow I will do some of the writing up and as I am indeed back to having my home connection there will be no excuse. Now I'm off to see what some of you lot have been up to.

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

Well, the good news is that I should be back online at home sometime tomorrow. This is just in time for me not to be at home for 4 days! Never mind. Blackpool awaits and who am I to disappoint it. I've checked the 5 day weather forecast and it's sun, sun, sun! So what with the addition of beer, beer, beer followed by hangover, hangover, hangover, I should have a good time.

I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to the rest and chilling out for a few days.

Really there is little to report or little that I particularly want to report, but when I come back I hope to resume what was laughingly called my normal service.

Sunday, October 12, 2003

Excellent weekend. Yesterdays trip to Weston couldn't have been bettered. The weather was unbelievably hot, the beer plentiful, the company good, and the journey traffic jam free.

Today was lunch with Mum after a reasonable lie-in this morning.

If I can relax through the Blackpool weekend as I have this one I'll almost return to being a sane individual!

Thursday, October 09, 2003

I am now going to disappear for a few days as I won't get the chance to come down to the internet cafe tomorrow, probably won't get here Saturday because of the trip to Weston, and Sunday is a bit touch and go because of possible work, so if I don't appear until Monday you'll know why.

In the meantime, I hope you all have as good a weekend as I'm planning to have.

Those who have looked at the comments against my post below re cash deposits will now be in no doubt as to the moral fibre of those who visit here. There are obviously enough people out there who, should they ever feel inclined, would fit into the world of double glazing sales without any problem whatsoever.

I on the other hand am made of sterner stuff and can inform you that I did the right thing and banked the lot. I did however confess my impure thoughts to Karen who is our Company Secretary and who is "the moral guide" of the company.

Has anyone else noticed that honesty may be the best policy but cuts down the available drinking funds?


Wednesday, October 08, 2003

Ah, there was actually a reason for starting the previous entry. On my way to Cuffley I got caught in a bit of a traffic jam. Not unusual as it's the M25 but in the end the reason was somewhat unusual.

Somewhere just after Watford there is a building being erected that has one of those energy producing wind turbines attached. There was a mile or so of slow moving traffic caused by people looking at it turning!

I don't know why I'm surprised, if people are going to spend their time watching soap operas a revolving wind turbine must seem like excitement beyond their wildest dreams.

I went up to 3verest Head Office today just to finalise some admin prioir to my official notice. I think I've already been terminated! Never mind, it wasn't as if I was going to write a letter of resignation pointing out all their faults, I don't have enough time, paper or ink for that!

I can't decide whether to be sad as it's the end of an era, or whether, to be honest, that I really give a toss. It is however the longest job I've ever had at just over 11 years.

In the end I think I don't give a toss which is somewhat indicative of how the company is at the moment that leaving means so little.

Tuesday, October 07, 2003

I hate it when customers pay us in cash, although to be fair I'd hate it more if they didn't pay us at all. Tonight I got a large sum in crisp fifties and the opportunity to "adjust" the contract price.

From a start point of me being no better than a glorified double glazing salesman, should I be morally above board and pay the whole lot in, thereby exposing it to all manner of taxes before I see it again, or should I perhaps just open a nearby window and if a stiff breeze blows a couple of hunderd into my back pocket should I be pleasantly suprised?

You, the nation, decide!

I seem to be doing a bit of a tour of UK seaside towns at the moment. I did Eastbourne Monday, (sorry K, last munite visit again. Promise to get together one day), this coming Saturday it is Weston-Super-Mare, and the week after that, Blackpool.

It's a bit too chilly for a dip in the sea at the moment though.

Saturday, October 04, 2003

Despite my many mentions of how appalingly bad my academic record was at school I do actually have a degree. It is however with The British Association of American Square Dance Clubs. You get it once you have mastered the first 75 moves of square dancing which include such manouvers as Curly Q and Spin Chain the Gears.

I got involved when I was in my teens. It was one of my friends who heard about it and we decided to go along, a group of about six of us. Following the success of The Goodies single "Stuff That Gibbon", we referred to the entire pastime as Gibbon Stuffing. Two of us, and a third to a certain extent, got quite into it. We'd travel from our own club out to some of the neighbouring ones and also had two big jaunts, one to RAF Mildenhall where American servicemen held a massive dance and the other over at the Supreme Headquarters, Allied Powers Europe in Belgium.

By that time, both mine and my mates mum were also coming along, and it was through that activity that my mum met her future husband Jim. Eventually I tailed off but they kept going until Jim became too unsteady to really keep dancing.

Although I didn't meet a future spouse, I did meet a rather forward young lady.

I don't remember her name at all but we were at my local club and they'd travelled down from Burnt Oak in NW London. We got to having a couple of dances together when, at the end of the second, just as the floor cleared she snogged me big time, full on! Now admittedly, there was a small number of young eligable male teens involved in this world, and only about the same number of young females so I suspect it was any port in a storm in her view. The reaction from those there was interesting though. The average age I guess was around 40 to 50, now, I know that's not old, particularly as I'm there myself, but times were a-different back then. Young people doing "that sort of thing" in the middle of a dance floor in a local churh hall was enough to raise more than a few mutterings, clearing of throats, and even my mother, who pretty much never minded what I got up to, did appear to mind when it was right in front of her face. I explained I was the innocent party, or at least tried as I'd lost the ability to speak as I was in a state of confusion, this was the sort of girl my mother had warned me about and I'd been looking for. Anyone would have thought we'd have ripped each others clothes off and performed a series of tableaux from The Karma Sutra.

We went out a couple of times after that, although that actually consisted of going up to her square dance club where we'd slope off and listen to a local band in the back room practicing "Eight Days a Week" incessantly, never speaking, and occasionally having a quick kiss and a fumble. I think she soon realised I wasn't the type of boy who was going to give her a good seeing to, (thanks for the upbringing mother!), and things petered out rapidly.

In two weeks time I'll be in Blackpool, still looking for more of those types of women, many of which will be there, and hopefully once again, I'll be swept off my feet otherwise both me and them will be in for a long wait and a dreadful hangover.

There appear to be some new sort of tax discs out for cars. They are the purple version that we already have but include gold highlighting. My car is listed as gold according to the logbook, although slightly shiny rust would be more appropriate, and therefore the disc would have blended in nicely. I suppose Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen was drafted in to design them, he seems to be doing everything else at the moment.

Thursday, October 02, 2003

Big(gish) changes in the wonderful world of windows. Kev has decided that he isn't going to get better whilst he has daily contact with D3sk B and he will carry on having daily contact whilst he remains a director. Therefore, for the foreseeable future, he is stepping down as a director although he's retaining his shareholding. This means that for the time being I'M IN CHARGE!!! Bwahaahaahaa!

Already I'm making plans to have a throne installed in my office. Visitors will have to climb two flights of stairs. On their knees! I shall have to think of a title for myself, perhaps The Wazzir of Windows or The Fount of all Fenestration.

If you can think of any better ones then please feel free to leave them in my comments, although I think I'm asking for trouble, with a capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

I now know my machine has become infected with the Bugbear virus. I shall take steps to remove it but if any of you that I have mail adresses for get e-mails from me, particularly with the incoming address thegriggsfamily@sheriton.freeserve(dot)co(dot)uk then get rid of it.

It almost definitely came from Kevs computer but as his has gone away and Mesh are going to clean it for him I won't have to bother about his. As I'm still without a connection at home I shall wait until I can get online and the first thing I'll do is download one of the removal programs. I'm surprised neither Mailwasher or my AVG virus software missed it, then again, maybe it's one that hides too well. I know bugger all about this sort of thing anyway.

Anyway, just thought I'd mention it.

Wednesday, October 01, 2003

Headmaster "Attacked Pupil With Dead Fish.

Sounds rather like a Monty Python sketch.

The U.K.s first private Accident and Emergency unit has opened. And it's opened at the bottom of my road, give or take 50 yards. It'll be interesting to see how it does. I'm all for The Health Service but in our area there is a bit of a problem. No-one trusts our local hospital. It has a bad reputation. I'll not name it as it's not fair, although anyone in the area would know which one we are talking about. The alternative one, which is the one mentioned in the article is great, which is why I don't think it's down to people just getting on the "I hate the NHS" bandwagon.

I had to have a minor operation once at it's predecessor which was just as bad. I still have a scar on my neck. I had a series of more major operations as a child and one as a teenager in GOSH and UCH, and all have left smaller scars than that to remove what was just a boil on my neck.

I shouldn't really complain though. I once nearly got myself involved in a fight
and managed to get out of trouble by pulling my shirt collar to one side and telling the opposer that the guy on the other end of the knife that did that came off worse. The bloke I was speaking to backed off and once he'd gone I managed to calm myself down before I fainted.

One of my friends when we were at school was coming home on the tube. Another kid got out a knife and said hand over your money or you're dead. My mate replied Oh good, I've never been dead before. Sarcasm was obviously too much for his assailant as he jumped off the tube and ran away.

Both of those things happened way back and I'm not sure that psuedo knifing scars and sarcasm would be the best of weapons these days.