Separated At Birth?

Chubby Checker;

Joe Pesci;

Stuffed

The missus made a huge moussaka today and as usual, I made a pig of myself by stuffing as much into my body as possible.

You see, when she cooks this dish it's like the angels are singing their heavenly moussaka song. Calling me to the dining table with their promises of culinary joy.

If you've had the fortune to try one of her moussakas then you are already well aware of how good it is. If not, then you're out of luck 'cos I'm taking the rest to work tomorrow!

Picking Up At Midnight Tonight

It's a good job I'm on late shifts from tomorrow, I'm gonna be on this for hours tonight and then again before I go to work tomorrow!

Sun Kissed

I'm red faced at the moment.
No, I've not embarrassed myself, yet.
Being as it was such a glorious day, we we spent the best part of the day in my sister-in-law and her fella's garden.
As a result I've got a slightly reddish tinge about my boat race.

Meat

Why do we eat so much meat at a barbecue?

Don't get me wrong, I love meat. So much so that I think vegetarians need to be removed from society. A 12 gauge shotgun should do the trick.

But, do we really need to eat so much meat at barbecues?

When else could you justify eating 3 chicken drumsticks, a burger, 2 sausages in a bap and numerous spare ribs in one meal?

Never.

And then we wonder why we struggle to take a dump the next day!

Happy St George's Day

PROUD TO BE ENGLISH!

It's Not The Size That Counts......

We recently ordered a new sink for the bathroom (I hope we don't have the same issues we have with the toilet seat!) and it arrived today in three boxes.
I checked that the sink and pedestal were intact and then turned my attention to the last box.
It must be the taps I thought, they must be quite big.

But no, that huge box contained a small bag of bolts to fix the sink to the wall. A bit of a waste.

7 Days To Go

I can't wait!

Sunday Drivers

In particular, the man in the blue Hyundai, who was in front of me between the A4146 and the M1 this morning.

25 mph in a 30 mph zone.
30 mph in a 40 mph zone.
45 mph in a 60 mph zone.

There's a word for people like you.

Bog Seat Badness

This house has a curse.
Since we moved here four years ago, we've had five different toilet seats. I'm getting fed up of having to change them.

1; The seat that was present when we moved in was cheap and nasty so we changed it.

2; The seat we replaced it with was much nicer, but we decorated the bathroom a year later and it no longer matched.

3; The "mosaic" design seat we bought to match the bathroom lasted about two years. After this it kept coming loose and nothing I did would fix it.

4; We bought exactly the same design and this lasted a while before cracking on one side when I dropped it down to have a shit.

5; We've had the current toilet seat less than three months, now the hinge has broken.

I'm beginning to see why the previous occupants had a cheap nasty seat on the toilet in the first place.

Interesting Fact

It is illegal to poke crabs with a pointy stick.
The punishment for such a crime is to have several crabs lubricated with Vaseline and placed into your pants.
So, the next time you're on the beach, pointy stick in hand, think twice.

Currently Viewing

I've been meaning to watch this since, well, when it was first released.
Firstly, when it was on T.V I couldn't watch it due to shift work and the lack of Sky Plus at the time.
Then my brother lent me his DVD boxset, for whatever reason, I completely forgot about it before handing it back to him.
About a year ago I bought my own boxset when it was much cheaper. I watched a couple of episodes while drunk and couldn't remember them. This meant that I'd have to watch them again in order to understand the remainder of the series and I couldn't be arsed.
I've now converted them onto my iPod and am determined to get through the entire series.

Less Stress, For Now

After my insomnia induced rant this morning, I feel much more at ease.
I had a bit of a pep talk with my supervisor and pal Barry this morning.
This was followed by a relatively pain free shift (If ever I needed one, then today was the day!).
I got home and crashed out for a couple of hours, then got up and had my favourite Pie 'n' Mash dinner with my brother and niece.
The missus said she can now feel the baby kicking, so I'm gonna spend this evening with my hand on her belly, hoping.
I guess that sometimes I let things build up and get wound up by them until I explode. I'm fortunate to have this blog as an outlet. How else would I moan about all those clipboard wielding charity fuckos?
I still hate my job, but thanks to calming words of wisdom from colleagues, good food, family and the hope of movement from my unborn child, things are in perspective once more.

Enough Is Enough

My homelife is as near as makes no difference to perfect.
The missus and myself are expecting our first child. We have a lovely 3 bedroom bungalow (Although, I'd like to pay less mortgage for it!). A cat that keeps me entertained and company when the missus is working. All the mod cons that a bloke could ask for and a very comfy bed.

My worklife, however, tears at the very existance of my soul.
It's not the money, I get a fair wage.
The holidays aren't bad either.
It's not London Underground either. If anything, I'm proud to work on the Tube.
Nor is it my colleagues, who keep me sane.

It's this;
There is no challenge in my job. Nothing. It's soul destroying.
For eight hours a day I listen to people moaning, non-stop.
"My Oyster card's not working." (Usually because they've failed to validate it at one end of their journey or haven't topped up their pre-pay.)
"The fares are too high."
"The service is shit."
"This."
"That."
"And the other."
"Blah, blah, blah, until the end of your shift."

Well let me tell you something, I couldn't give a fuck anymore. I've listened to it for over seven years.

They're not the one stuck for eight days in a row in a boring, endless job they hate. They're not the one listening to people bitching at and blaming them for something that is out of their control. They're not the one who gets sworn at just because there's a 5 minute gap in the train service. They're not the one who's been spat at and assaulted in the past.

They are the ones who will no longer get sympathy from me.
They'll get a polite smile and a customer services card.

I am determined that this job will not get me down anymore.
I am determined that this job will not cause sleep deprived nights, such as this, anymore.

Customer services card anyone?

End.

Answered Prayers

This is Pie, Mash 'n' Liquor, a traditional London meal.

Words can't say how much I love this dish. However, living in Leighton Buzzard means I haven't had it for ages.

While looking on the 'net for the recipe, I found this site which will deliver the meals for you by courier. I've just ordered 8 pies and 8 liquors (I'll freeze some obviously!) for £30, I'll do my own mash.

Should be here on friday.

I'm not sure I can wait that long!

Marvin Hagler VS Thomas Hearns 1985

I could 'ave 'em!

Fed Up

I'm fed up this week.
I hate my job and I'm not sleeping well.

Run Forrest, Run

Me, the missus and Peanut-Face would like to say a huge GOOD LUCK to Teresa, who is mad enough to be running 26.2 miles in tomorrow's London Marathon.
Unfortunately I'll be working and won't be able to go and cheer her on, but I'll be thinking of her.
Bearing in mind Roger Bannisters four minute mile, she should finish in 1 hour, 45 minutes.

While I'm On The Subject Of Charity

Don't get me wrong, I'm not gonna leap out in front of you and beg for your bank account details.
But, if you are in the mood for giving, then plaese donate here.
My good friend Teresa is running the London Marathon on sunday for a damned good cause.

Charity Bastards (Yet Again)

Today I went out on my break and I had to cross the road.
This fucker couldn't even wait until I'd stepped from the road onto the pavement. She jumped in front of me and shouted "Stop!"
She seemed less than impressed when I dipped my shoulder in her direction and sped up.
"What's your problem?" she asked.
"You, you fucking idiot. This is a busy road, with buses and trucks and stuff. Why would you stop me getting off of it?"
"Erm, for charity?"
"If the charity is for your ability to be a cunt, then put me down for a tenner."
These people need to die, they are not helping third world countries. They are being paid to jump in our way and inconvenience our lives.