Skip to main content

Randomness

Have spent a fair bit of time on Twitter recently. I'm possibly addicted. But I thought it was about time I emptied my brain out completely, so here goes...

Spent an entertaining 5 days over the Bank Holiday weekend working at a Craft Fair in Henley. It would be fair to say that working in a tent with Nigel, Neil and Paul is always a laugh. Even after many years, I always assume it's the last time we'll all work together and am always surprised when we turn up again the following year. This season, Neil wore bin bags for socks, his girlfriend's trousers and a ladies cardigan. Metrosexual would be an understatement. Our employers put us up in a B&B and fed us too. Here's the evidence....

And yes, that is the sauce and a bit of cucumber just waiting for some shredded duck. There were some interesting female rowers in the Chinese restaurant that night. One of them should lay of the steroids a bit. Her 'tache would have made Freddie Mercury feel inadequate...

We should be at another Craft Fair this coming weekend in Kent, but due to lack of sales and some competition, it's been decided that we're not required. Shame.

In other Jenwis news, we were at my big brother's wedding on Friday. We travelled down to sunny Burford on Thursday and stayed the night at the Travelodge. Everything worked fine and it was the quietest hotel I have ever stayed in. It did however have the following notice on the wall above the bath...


Really?! I was going to try running on the spot, or possibly attempting to do the splits. My God, there must be some REALLY, spectacularly stupid people in the world if we need notices to warn us that smooth surfaces are slippery if there's water on them.

The following night we stayed in the posh £110 a night hotel the wedding was at. Loo didn't flush properly and the tight gits didn't even manage a teensy bar of soap. And the TV didn't get BBC News 24. I need my daily dose of the theme tune just before the hour... beep (de dum dum) beep (de dum dum) beep...

And so to the allotment spot. Finally finished cutting all the pathways down and have begun removing the rotting wood and concrete surrounds to the beds. Also had an apple from our tree yesterday. It was sharper than a naked wander through a scissor factory. Maybe need to wait a few more days, then?

It's looking more like an allotment and less like a scene from Tarzan....


Good news! It's only a few days until the Italian GP! And even less until we find out what the FIA thought about Ferrariareacheatingbunchofgits-gate. Suspended ban I reckon.

Finally tracked down a copy of the 95 album by Kindred Spirit, who were the blonde one out of the Bangles and the lead singer from River City People. Splendid.

Started my new Marketing job today. When I arrived, my computer had been removed. Still, they're overrated, aren't they. All I need is my wit, cunning, dry humour and a pencil.

I'm screwed.

(Hmmmm. Listening to some seriously old Blues by Arthur 'Big Boy' Crudup. Not sure if I like it all that much. Why was he called 'big boy'? Don't answer that)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Faking it for real

As Donald “I’m really great, everybody says so” Trump is so fond of pointing out, there is a lot of fake news around nowadays. Honest. Your friends at Facebook think so too, and have recently been publishing their top tips for spotting false news – by placing them as ads in newspapers. Considering they came in for considerable criticism themselves, that’s like shouting “Squirrel!” and pointing at a tree whilst you hastily kick away the prize begonias you just trampled. To help you make sense of this (and because I’m a caring person), I thought I’d run you through their suggestions and help to explain them for you. I know. I’m lovely. 1. Be sceptical of headlines READING THIS ARTICLE WILL IMPROVE YOUR SEX LIFE!!! And explain that catchy headlines, or stuff all in capitals might be a bit iffy. 2. Look closely at the URL You can find out more about this at www.wowyouregullible.com if you want to understand how phony web addresses are a sure sign of dodgyness. 3. Investigate...

Going Underground

The US presidential election and Brexit must have made me more nervous than I’d realised. It seems I’ve created an underground bunker without realising I was doing it. Still – we’ve all done that at some point, right? No? Ah... In that case, the fact that I have inadvertently turned my cellar into a rudimentary survival shelter, just in case it all kicks off, demonstrates a severe case of bunker mentality. Fretting about Donald and his wall, and Hillary and her emails, clearly made me more paranoid that I thought about the possibility of WW3 kicking off. Whilst attempting to find a specific size of imperial washer the other day (turns out I’d mis-filed it in the nut cabinet – Tsk!) I was struck by what a lot of jam and chutney we have in the cellar. And I do mean a LOT. There are boxes of boiled-up sugar and fruit and more boxes of boiled up vinegar and fruit. We’re still only part way through 2015’s output too. Then there’s the plastic containers holding pasta in various for...

"It's all gone quiet..." said Roobarb

If, like me, you grew up (and I’m aware of the irony in that) in the ‘70s, February was a tough month, with the sad news that Richard Briers and Bob Godfrey had died. Briers had a distinguished acting career and is, quite rightly, fondly remembered most for his character in ‘The Good Life’. Amongst his many roles, both serious and comedic, he also lent his voice to a startling bit of animation that burst it’s wobbly way on to our wooden-box-surrounded screens in 1974. The 1970s seemed to be largely hued in varying shades of beige, with hints of mustard yellow and burnt orange, and colour TV was a relatively new experience still, so the animated adventures of a daft dog and caustic cat who were the shades of dayglo green and pink normally reserved for highlighter pens, must have been a bit of a shock to the eyes at the time. It caused mine to open very wide indeed. Roobarb was written by Grange Calveley, and brought vividly into life by Godfrey, whose strange, shaky-looking sty...