Archive for the Other Stuff category
After the job refused to give me any holiday this summer, meaning my family will have to wait two years for their annual holiday, and they declined to allow me any time off to have a once-in-a-lifetime trip to the Olympics in my own country, I actually managed to get down to the Paralympics (on a rest day, so up yours everyone in the offices who decline others’ leave but spookily managed to get their own summer holiday to a man, and woman). Bitter, much?
And what an experience it was. A fantastic day of sport. A day filled with awe, respect, humour, emotion, the works.
The sound of 80,000 people all screaming at once is one that won’t leave me for some time. And it all ran so smoothly, the transport was great, lots of people to point you in the right direction. The soldiers on the security gates were friendly, the volunteers were all friendly and helpful. The toilets were clean with no queues.
And the sport was top notch.
I’ll say one thing for this country, well two, can;t run a police force but can put on a wonderful sports event.
The trouble no is that I only have 4 years to save up for Brasil, and I probably won’t get the time off even if I can, if I’m still here.
I don’t normally peruse the website of the Sun, but I picked this one up on a link so0meone sent me in an email and thought it worth sharing.
Corporal Luke Tamata, 31, Lance Corporal Jacinda Baker, 26, and Private Richard Harris, 21, of the Royal New Zealand Infantry Regiment were killed by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan. Two hundred soldiers of the 1st and 2nd battalions greeted the coffins when the dead soldiers were repatriated.
This is what happened.
I’ve just settled down in front of the TV with a cool one, watching the opening of the Paralympic Games. Apart from looking out for someone I know to lead out one of the teams, I’m really looking forward to some more cracking sport.
And guess what, I even managed to get tickets. After being refused times off to utilise the tickets I managed to get for the Olympics, the events I’m going to re on my rest days so the job can fuck right off.
Astronaut, Neil Armstrong, died today aged 82.
I was 9 years old when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon. It was my sister’s sixth birthday and we were allowed to stay up and watch the moon landing.
I was a big science fiction fan, I built space rockets, read stories and looked at the skies at night. It has stayed with me my whole life, only today I bought the third issue of the new magazine All About Space and I’m 52. Neil Armstrong played a big part in all that.
I don’t see my dad nearly enough. He moved quite a distance away years ago and we’re lucky if we see him once a year.
The Olympics have reminded me of some special times with my Dad. Specifically the sailing.
My dad used to be a keen sailor, every weekend he was off sailing. He was a teacher and used to take the kids sailing, he organised sailing adventures and holidays during the summer breaks and although I didn’t go to his school, he used to take me with him.
He and a mate used to sail Ospreys, competitive sailing¬† at a club on the coast. It was a larger dinghy with a trapeze. I used to love going with him and getting out there on the trapeze, just like those folks this weekend in Weymouth.
By the time I was around 16 I used to go sailing on my own or with mates. We were quite lucky in the sixth form as sailing was a choice for the sports afternoons we used to get on Wednesdays. A group of us would head off to the nearest sailing club with a teacher in a minibus and spend a couple of hours.
Dad was a big fan of Rodney Pattison, an Olympic champion who won two golds and a silver at the 1968, 72 and 76 Olympics. He was Britain’s most successful Olympic sailor until Ben Ainslie won his third gold medal in Beijing.
I’ve been so glad that the BBC coverage has been widespread this Olympics, normally you’d only get to see some highlights of the Sailing, but I’ve been able to watch as much as I wanted. It is great to remember my childhood through these Olympics, and nice to think about my Dad a little more than I probably normally would.
I must give him a ring.
Who can fail to be inspired by the work of the athletes performing for the world this week?
I’m loving the ¬†successes and efforts of the GB team. I guess¬†reveling¬†in the success of others is a reflection of the¬†disappointments¬†in my own life. I’ve always enjoyed playing sports but nothing of any significant level, unless you class playing for the first 15 at school a significant involvement in sporting success. Seeing them standing on the podiums and hearing the national anthem always brings a bit of a lump to the throat.
The cyclists truly are an inspiration, to see both the men and women getting golds and breaking world records, the rowing, the shooting, I’m loving it.
And still a week to go.
Come on Team GB!!!
Entertaining,¬†inspiring, emotional, funny, surprising.
Sometimes being British is good.
That is all.
Having had to listen to the constant bitching about the Olympic Games, massive cost, disruption, nothing for me, London-centric, jobs-for-the-boys, yada-yada-yada, for the last two years, enough already.
I can’t get a summer holiday, I can’t get time off to watch an event I have tickets for, but that’s in the past.
I am now looking forward to a couple of weeks of super sport. I love the Olympics and I’m not afraid to admit it.
I’ve got my BBC iPad app, my London games apps and ¬†my 24 BBC live channels sorted. For the first time ever I’ll be able to watch any sport I choose from the Games*, brought to me by the best broadcasting operation on the world. The stories and experiences will be exciting, emotional and inspiring.
I’ve already got an interesting array of varying ciders in for the duration, it’s gonna be great.
Roll on Friday!
(* apart from the football, I won’t be watching that, obviously)
Having just got home from work and needing to get up for an early shift, I find that I have no time to post, I’m not even going to try and find a suitable vid for you today.
See you on the other side.
The first of the little Weeks family graduated from university. I am now the proud father of a child with a First Class Honours Degree in Science.
She becomes the first member of the northern branch of the family Weeks to qualify with a university degree. ¬†What’s more, she has got a job after just her second interview, in order to gain two years in the workplace before she can return for her Masters.
I had high hopes for her at uni, after all, she made head girl at school and obtained the best GCSE results in the whole district with one A and 10 A*s. It was great to realise that she had her dad’s brains and her mother’s good looks, there’d have been no hope if it was the other way round. (I jest, I’m actually quite dashing!)
And thankful that when she was making her life choices, law enforcement didn’t figure.
12-year-old Cory Green of Flora, Indiana, was a Cub Scout who loved and admired the US Marines.
He never had a chance of enlisting, though. Cory was diagnosed with leukemia as a baby. He fought his way to three remissions, but was finally struck with a deadly infection he couldn‚Äôt beat. Some Marines who knew Cory decided that for the way he‚Äôd fought for his life with such courage, strength, honor and humility, he deserved to be part of the Corps. So they presented him with navigator wings, and made him an honorary Marine. But the story doesn‚Äôt stop there.
When the end was near, Cory‚Äôs dad called Sgt. Mark Dolfini, to let him know. Sgt. Dolfini said he didn‚Äôt know what he would say or do, he just had to go to the hospital. He found Cory unconscious, and decided that as long as Cory remained alive, he would stand honor guard outside his room. And there he stood for eight straight hours until the little Marine passed away.
We are so moved by the courage of Cory Green, and the honor, decency and immense hearts of the incredible people who wear the uniform of the United States Marines.
A Glaswegian is stumbling through the woods, totally drunk, when he comes upon a preacher baptising people in the river. He proceeds to walk into the water and subsequently bumps into the preacher….
The preacher turns around and is almost overcome by the smell of alcohol, whereupon he asks the drunk, ‘Are you ready to find Jesus?’
The drunk shouts, ‘Aye, I am.’ So the preacher grabs him and dunks him in the water. He pulls him up and asks the drunk, ‘Brother have you found Jesus?’
The drunk replies, ‘No, Ah havnae found Jesus.’
The preacher shocked at the answer, dunks him into the water again for a little longer. He again pulls him out of the water and asks again, ‘Brother, have you found Jesus?’
The drunk again answers, ‘No, Ah havnae found Jesus.’
By this time the preacher is at his wits end and dunks the drunk in the water again — but this time holds him down for about 30 seconds and when he begins kicking his arms and legs he pulls him up.
The preacher again asks the drunk, ‘For the love of God have you found Jesus?’
The drunk wipes his eyes, catches his breath and says to the preacher,¬†‘Are ye sure this is where he fell in?
We had the financial¬†arrangements¬†letter from the Education¬†Department¬†through recently.
I recall, when the government said that they were allowing universities to up their charges to 9 grand, they said that universities actually charging 9 grand would be the exception to the rule. Yeah, right.
My first child was paying ¬†just over 3 grand a year for her tuition fees. My second child starts when my first finishes, just one year later my second child will be paying ¬£8,500 tuition fees. Technically, the government were right in that her fees aren’t the maximum. This is true, over three years she gets to pay a whopping ¬£1,500 less than the maximum ¬£24,000. A bargain.
I never went to uni, I sometimes wish I had, mainly so that I could have gotten a different career. In just one generation we have gone from a free education, to one where a child will come out of uni with a minimum of ¬£36,000 in debt.
But it’s OK though, because not only do the government loan the kids the money for the course, they’ll also loan them money for living expenses. Mine will get ¬£4,500. The trouble is that her accommodation will cost almost ¬£4,000, leaving her ¬£450 for the year to buy food, books, transport.
So when anyone asks why I still bother to do the job I do, when I could be laying back 7 days a week on a police pension, I point them to the above figures.
1. It’s the dogs mess that I find hard to swallow.
2. I want some repairs done to my cooker as it has backfired and burnt my knob off.
3. I wish to complain that my father twisted his ankle very badly when he put his foot in the hole in his back passage.
4. Their 18 year old son is continually banging his balls against my fence.
5. I wish to report that tiles are missing from the outside toilet roof. I think it was bad wind the other day that blew them off.
6. My lavatory seat is cracked, where do I stand?
7. I am writing on behalf of my sink, which is coming away from the wall.
8. Will you please send someone to mend the garden path. My wife tripped and fell on it yesterday and now she is pregnant.
9. I request permission to remove my drawers in the kitchen.
10. 50% of the walls are damp, 50% have crumbling plaster, and 50% are just plain filthy.
11. The next door neighbour has got this huge tool that vibrates the whole house and I just can’t take it anymore.
12. The toilet is blocked and we cannot bath the children until it is cleared.
13. Will you please send a man to look at my water, it is a funny colour and not fit to drink.
14. Our lavatory seat is broken in half and now is in three pieces.
15. I want to complain about the farmer across the road. Every morning at 6am his cock wakes me up and it’s now getting too much for me.
16. The man next door has a large erection in the back garden, which is unsightly and dangerous.
17. Our kitchen floor is damp. We have two children and would like a third, so please send someone round to do something about it.
18. I am a single woman living in a downstairs flat and would you please do something about the noise made by the man on top of me every night.
19. Please send a man with the right tool to finish the job and satisfy my wife..
20. I have had the clerk of works down on the floor six times but I still have no satisfaction.
21. This is to let you know that our lavatory seat is broke and we can’t get BBC2.
22. My bush is really overgrown round the front and my back passage has fungus growing in it.
In memory of all those who fought and died for their country thirty years ago, and with thanks to those who came home, many of whom joined the police service and are still serving their country to this day.
A major hurricane (Hurricane ‚ÄėShazza‚Äô) and an earthquake measuring 5.8 on the Richter Scale hit Essex in the early hours of Tuesday with its epicentre in Basildon . Victims were seen wandering around aimlessly, muttering “Faaackinell”.
The hurricane decimated the area causing almost ¬£30 worth of damage.¬† Several priceless collections of mementos from Majorca and the Costa Del Sol were damaged beyond repair. Three areas of historic burnt out cars were disturbed. Many locals were woken well before their Giros arrived.
Essex FM reported that hundreds of residents were confused and bewildered and were still trying to come to terms with the fact that something interesting had happened in Basildon. One resident – Tracy Sharon Smith, a 15-year-old mother of 5 said, “It was such a shock, my little Chardonnay-Mercedes came running into my bedroom crying.¬† My youngest two, Tyler-Morgan and Jade-Storm slept through it all. I was still shaking when I was skinning up and watching Jeremy Kyle the next morning”.
Apparently looting, muggings and car crime were unaffected and carried on as normal.
The British Red Cross has so far managed to ship 4,000 crates of Special Brew to the area to help the stricken locals. Rescue workers are still searching through the rubble and have found large quantities of personal belongings, including benefit books, jewellery from Ratners and Bone China from the Pound shop.
HOW CAN YOU HELP?
This appeal is to raise money for food and clothing parcels for those unfortunate enough to be caught up in this disaster. Clothing is most sought after – items most needed include:
Fila or Burberry baseball caps
Kappa tracksuit tops (his and hers)
Shell suits (female)
White sport socks
Any other items usually sold in Primark.
Food parcels may be harder to come by but are needed all the same.
Required foodstuffs include:
Tins of baked beans
Cans of Special Brew.
22p buys a biro for filling in the compensation forms.
¬£2 buys chips, crisps and blue fizzy drinks for a family of nine.
¬£5 buys fags and a lighter to calm the nerves of those affected.
Rescue workers found a girl in the rubble smothered in raspberry alco-pop and were worried she had been badly cut… “Where are you bleeding from?” they asked,
“Romford” said the girl, “woss that gotta do wiv you?”
Please don’t forward this to anyone living in Essex – oh, sod it, they won’t be able to read it, anyway.
I have no idea if these quotes are genuine or not, if they’re not, they bloody well could be. They are supposed to be taken from Child Support Agency applications from the section regarding the father of the child/children…
1. Regarding the identity of the father of my twins, Makeeshia was fathered by Maclearndon McKinley I am unsure as to the identity of the father of Marlinda, but I believe that she was conceived on the same night.
2. I am unsure, as to the identity of the father of my child as I was being sick out of a window when taken unexpectedly from behind. I can provide you with a list of names of men that I think were at the party if this helps.
3. I do not knos the name of the father of my little girl. She was conceived at a party at 360 East Bolton Avenue where I had sex with a man I met that night. I do remember that the sex was so good that I fainted. If you do manage to track down the father, can yku please send me his phone number? Thanks.
4. I don’t know the identity of the father of my daughter. He drives a BMW that now has a hole made by my stiletto in one of the door panels. Perhaps you can contact BMW service stations in this area and see if he’s had it replaced.
5. I have never had sex with a man. I am still a Virginian. I am awaiting a letter from the Pope confirming that my son’s conception was imaculat and that he is the Saver risen again.
6. I cannot tell you the name of Alleshia’s dad as he informs me that to do so would blow his cover and that would have cataclysmic implications for the economy. I am torn between doing right by you and right by the country. Please advise…
7. Tyrone Hairston is the father of child A If you do catch up with him, can you ask him what he did with my AC/DC CDs? Child B who was also borned at the same time…. well, I don’t have clue.
8. From the dates it seems that my daughter was conceived at Euro-Disney; maybe it really is the MagicKingdom
9. So much about that night is a blur, the only thing that I remember for sure is Gordon Ramsey did a programme about eggs earlier in the evening. If I had stayed in and watched more TV rather than going to the party at 56 Miller St , mine might have remained unfertilized.
10. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of my baby, after all, like when you eat a can of beans you can’t be sure which one made you fart.