Alternative Title: I think I may have hurt my tummy
Firstly - thank you Marianne for introducing me to the phrase 'The metric Fuck Ton'.... we believe this to be slightly smaller than the Imperial Fuck Tonne - but an aweful lot nonetheless... especially when used to describe the amount of alcohol consumed by my teeny tiny pixie like body at the weekend...
Friday night saw me spending the night clubbing in Swindon (horrid place) however, since two of my closest friends got engaged to each other that night in a terrifyingly brilliant plan of subtlety and subterfuge not seen since my previous life as a baddass ninja assassin and it was her birthday... good times were had...
The group (about 20 of us) all had VIP entry to the club which meant that we didn't have to pay to get in, we had our own private area to keep out the riff raff, free champagne on arrival and all the drinks were buy one get one free... which I didn't realise until I ordered 3 shots of Sambuca and 3 bottles of generic European beer...and got 6 of each.... oh dear.... then it started getting messy... some how the strawpeedo of a trough of booze seemed like a good idea at the time...
I spent most of the night with an old uni friend who I hadn't seen for a very very long time and was very pleased to realise that he is one of those friends who you can spend 5 minutes with after about 8 years apart and feel like you've never been apart... superb.
I then spent the night sandwiched between him and another strapping man on a double air bed in my friend's lounge... both of them doing the 'drunken boy snore'... suffice to say I got about 2 hours sleep in total... oh dear
Saturday, extremely hungover I make my way to Dom's party of awesomeness and decide that the best way to combat my monstrous hangover is to drink a further metric fuck ton of vodka and Marianne's particularly lovely home-brewed cider... beautiful appley ambrosia of the Gods and spend the entire night snuggled in her ample bosom... so soft and warm...yummy.
This may not have been wise as I spent most of the next day being really really grumpy and hungover and taking it out on the (not so) curly one and the ginger northerner...sorry about that boys.... Bob's delightful roast wasn't even enough to lighten my mood....still excellent parties on both nights... alcohol was consumed, love was made, cigarettes were smoked and friendships were resumed.... superb!
I think however, there is a small chance that I may be getting too old for the whole weekend bender as I then had to take Monday off work to recover...oops!
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Monday, 6 April 2009
Ow ow ow ow
Alternative title: Ow ow ow ow...that's a whole lot of ow
Does anyone have any bright ideas about how to sort out my reccurring neck and shoulder stiffness without resorting to expensive medical treatments...seriously people it's like meningitis of the neck!
Also in a desperate bid to save our flat and have enough food to eat I'm pimping out Bob's ass... any takers?
Failing that my services may be available very soon...once I come up with a suitable 'lady of the night' pseudonym...
I might need to move to Bristol for more business... perhaps I could write a book about my experiences afterwards... "Down and Desperate in the Downs"
Me love you long time
NB: This image is cruelly and copy right infringingly ripped from an excellent web comic... go check it out
Does anyone have any bright ideas about how to sort out my reccurring neck and shoulder stiffness without resorting to expensive medical treatments...seriously people it's like meningitis of the neck!
Also in a desperate bid to save our flat and have enough food to eat I'm pimping out Bob's ass... any takers?
Failing that my services may be available very soon...once I come up with a suitable 'lady of the night' pseudonym...
I might need to move to Bristol for more business... perhaps I could write a book about my experiences afterwards... "Down and Desperate in the Downs"
Me love you long time
NB: This image is cruelly and copy right infringingly ripped from an excellent web comic... go check it out
Thursday, 2 April 2009
A Present
Alternative Title: You Know Who You Are....
I would like to apologise for any embarrassment caused last night...
To make up for it... I thought you might like this:
I would like to apologise for any embarrassment caused last night...
To make up for it... I thought you might like this:
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
I've found my Vocation
Alternative Title: I always knew I was a Scrubber
So against Sam's better advice, I scrubbed the gent's toilets yesterday... on my hands and knees, elbow deep in piss and filth... it was strangely satisfying... when I had finished and the place smelled clean and even the skirting boards and the mirrors were sparkling with joy at the love and attention they had received....
My victory was a little marred however when rather than getting annoyed that I was not at my desk, as hoped, my boss actually congratualted me on a job well done and suggested that we should get the old cleaner back in to show her how it's done.... bollocks... no justifiable and righteous vitriol for Bex... bugger
It was made all the more rubbish when 15 minutes later, after a few of the lads had been in there, I went back in to the toilets to finish off and it smelled of piss again...
I mean seriously... do boys just eminate an odour of urine?
Do you deliberately piss on the floor... is it like a competition?
I cleaned the damn urinals - use them!
Please boys, tell me... I need to know so I can combat this evil in the future!
In the evening I took photos of the (not so) curly one and his best friend, (who we shall call Mr Blonde tight trousers for now) - pictures of Bob attacking Mr Blonde tight trousers with a knife... Bob is doing a logo for a martial arts organisation (paid work... woo hoo!) and needed a dynamic pose to work from....
For inspiration I shouted things like, "Come on, attack him like you hate him... he's just fucked your mum and he's wearing stupid shoes"... I thought it was genius ... the boys seemed to disagree... ah well ... perhaps professional photography is one thing to cross off my list of vocation options...
So against Sam's better advice, I scrubbed the gent's toilets yesterday... on my hands and knees, elbow deep in piss and filth... it was strangely satisfying... when I had finished and the place smelled clean and even the skirting boards and the mirrors were sparkling with joy at the love and attention they had received....
My victory was a little marred however when rather than getting annoyed that I was not at my desk, as hoped, my boss actually congratualted me on a job well done and suggested that we should get the old cleaner back in to show her how it's done.... bollocks... no justifiable and righteous vitriol for Bex... bugger
It was made all the more rubbish when 15 minutes later, after a few of the lads had been in there, I went back in to the toilets to finish off and it smelled of piss again...
I mean seriously... do boys just eminate an odour of urine?
Do you deliberately piss on the floor... is it like a competition?
I cleaned the damn urinals - use them!
Please boys, tell me... I need to know so I can combat this evil in the future!
In the evening I took photos of the (not so) curly one and his best friend, (who we shall call Mr Blonde tight trousers for now) - pictures of Bob attacking Mr Blonde tight trousers with a knife... Bob is doing a logo for a martial arts organisation (paid work... woo hoo!) and needed a dynamic pose to work from....
For inspiration I shouted things like, "Come on, attack him like you hate him... he's just fucked your mum and he's wearing stupid shoes"... I thought it was genius ... the boys seemed to disagree... ah well ... perhaps professional photography is one thing to cross off my list of vocation options...
Sunday, 29 March 2009
I think I may be a Victim
Alternative Title: ZOMG - Have you seen this?!?!?
Well now... I think, I'm not sure but I think there is a small chance that I might have been in some way, possibly a little bit, maybe, the victim of workplace discrimination...
A couple of weeks ago when we were told we were going to have to drop down to a four day week, I assumed that that meant that I was allowed to work a 4 day week, you know, like they said... not that I would be expected to come in for 5 days and still take the totally bend me over and ruthlessly bugger me in my sore and weeping financial arsehole paycut... apparently I was mistaken...
The first week of this genius plan to stop the hell mouth folding in on itself I took a day off... I felt weird about it because I knew I wasn't getting paid, so I looked for alternative employment so at least I felt like I was doing something productive... well we all know how that turned out... (not well...for all involved)...
That offer of a job interview obviously meant that I needed to take the day off work, so I took it as holiday (perfectly legitimate) and the following day, having exhausted myself by walking about in silly foot wear and breaking my spine / causing internal organ failure, I found myself in far too much pain to move, let alone sit in a Morris Minor with shakey suspension for 45 minutes to get to work, so I call in sick (also perfectly legitimate)...
Although when I go to take my day off last week as part of my 4 day week, 'let's try to soften the blow for our workers by letting them have another day off,' my boss makes some snippy comment as he is walking out of the door that he is 'surprised' that I'm taking this day off as I had so much time off the week before.... to which, slightly stunned, I replied 'yeah, one of those days was holiday and the other was sick...' he just said, 'I'm just surprised that's all' and buggers off....
Then it starts to sink in... apparently not only am I supposed to suck up a crippling pay cut, I'm also not allowed to take sick leave or holiday... brilliant... this makes me angry for the rest of the day but I let it go...
On Friday, Cathryn reveals to me that said boss has continued to slate my behaviour and the behaviour and reactions of other people in the company who have actually had the audacity to take that extra day off that we were offered and have not been coming to work for free... this angers me so much that I go in to my bosses' office, kick out the other manager and ask to have 'a word' with the offending boss....
What transpires is a calm and rational conversation where he states that he had expected more loyalty from the staff ... when I point out that it has nothing to do with loyalty, simply that my work load is significantly lower than it has been in the past due to total lack of work coming in and that I cannot take work from other members of staff as I do not know how to do their work and they do not have time to teach me... he suggests that I should spend my time away from my desk (an offense which usually leads to a berrating for not being on hand to answer the phone) doing pointless and meaningless tasks like 'sorting out the files' in the over stuffed filing room... when I point out that he cannot tell us we can have a 4 day week and then get shitty when we take it, the argument becomes entirely circular...
I could cope with this, just about... however here comes the good bit... he was so slippery about it that I didn't even realise it had happened until after I had left the meeting... in fact I'm still not entirely sure about it... he referred to 'my problem' (his words, not mine... he means the fact that I am a brain cripple) and that the company as a whole had been very supportive of 'my problem' and the fact that I took a day off sick here and there... he even conceded that other people have had more time off than I have through sickness ... but then he said I had to look at the morality of the situation... I left feeling that it had been implied that because I have epilepsy I should be 'morally obligated' to work the 5th day for free... I'm not sure whether I have been bullied and discriminated against or whether I'm just pissed off... I am pissed off, I'm just not sure about the rest of it... nevertheless, I am working 5 days this week...
On a brighter note though, this...
My life would be so very much better if I worked as the Gruffalo's personal secretary...
Well now... I think, I'm not sure but I think there is a small chance that I might have been in some way, possibly a little bit, maybe, the victim of workplace discrimination...
A couple of weeks ago when we were told we were going to have to drop down to a four day week, I assumed that that meant that I was allowed to work a 4 day week, you know, like they said... not that I would be expected to come in for 5 days and still take the totally bend me over and ruthlessly bugger me in my sore and weeping financial arsehole paycut... apparently I was mistaken...
The first week of this genius plan to stop the hell mouth folding in on itself I took a day off... I felt weird about it because I knew I wasn't getting paid, so I looked for alternative employment so at least I felt like I was doing something productive... well we all know how that turned out... (not well...for all involved)...
That offer of a job interview obviously meant that I needed to take the day off work, so I took it as holiday (perfectly legitimate) and the following day, having exhausted myself by walking about in silly foot wear and breaking my spine / causing internal organ failure, I found myself in far too much pain to move, let alone sit in a Morris Minor with shakey suspension for 45 minutes to get to work, so I call in sick (also perfectly legitimate)...
Although when I go to take my day off last week as part of my 4 day week, 'let's try to soften the blow for our workers by letting them have another day off,' my boss makes some snippy comment as he is walking out of the door that he is 'surprised' that I'm taking this day off as I had so much time off the week before.... to which, slightly stunned, I replied 'yeah, one of those days was holiday and the other was sick...' he just said, 'I'm just surprised that's all' and buggers off....
Then it starts to sink in... apparently not only am I supposed to suck up a crippling pay cut, I'm also not allowed to take sick leave or holiday... brilliant... this makes me angry for the rest of the day but I let it go...
On Friday, Cathryn reveals to me that said boss has continued to slate my behaviour and the behaviour and reactions of other people in the company who have actually had the audacity to take that extra day off that we were offered and have not been coming to work for free... this angers me so much that I go in to my bosses' office, kick out the other manager and ask to have 'a word' with the offending boss....
What transpires is a calm and rational conversation where he states that he had expected more loyalty from the staff ... when I point out that it has nothing to do with loyalty, simply that my work load is significantly lower than it has been in the past due to total lack of work coming in and that I cannot take work from other members of staff as I do not know how to do their work and they do not have time to teach me... he suggests that I should spend my time away from my desk (an offense which usually leads to a berrating for not being on hand to answer the phone) doing pointless and meaningless tasks like 'sorting out the files' in the over stuffed filing room... when I point out that he cannot tell us we can have a 4 day week and then get shitty when we take it, the argument becomes entirely circular...
I could cope with this, just about... however here comes the good bit... he was so slippery about it that I didn't even realise it had happened until after I had left the meeting... in fact I'm still not entirely sure about it... he referred to 'my problem' (his words, not mine... he means the fact that I am a brain cripple) and that the company as a whole had been very supportive of 'my problem' and the fact that I took a day off sick here and there... he even conceded that other people have had more time off than I have through sickness ... but then he said I had to look at the morality of the situation... I left feeling that it had been implied that because I have epilepsy I should be 'morally obligated' to work the 5th day for free... I'm not sure whether I have been bullied and discriminated against or whether I'm just pissed off... I am pissed off, I'm just not sure about the rest of it... nevertheless, I am working 5 days this week...
On a brighter note though, this...
My life would be so very much better if I worked as the Gruffalo's personal secretary...
Thursday, 26 March 2009
Sorry
Alternative Title: Hindsight is 20:20
This is a public service announcement:
I would like to publicly apologise to my husband for discussing my feelings in a public forum rather than with him.
The offending post has now been edited accordingly.
Sorry baby
End announcement.
This is a public service announcement:
I would like to publicly apologise to my husband for discussing my feelings in a public forum rather than with him.
The offending post has now been edited accordingly.
Sorry baby
End announcement.
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Sigh
Alternative Title: Meh
Yesterday was a rubbish day... and now in my new found self indulgent emo fashion, I'm going to write about it here and you are going to read it... because that is what the blogging forum is for...so there.
10.10 am - Smear test - undignified and uncomfortable - I know most of the people who read this are men and will therefore never be subjected to the indignity that is the internal examination - at least until the time comes for the prostate exam (which is probably worse than a smear - but largely reserved for the elderly gentleman so none of my readers are likely to have experienced it) but being told to 'just relax' whilst lying semi naked on a couch with your legs splayed while someone shoves a large, cold, unlubricated, metal phallus up your most delicate of delicates, widens it and then scrapes your internal walls with bits of plastic is not the most enjoyable of experiences - This is a speculum by the way - lovely looking little bit of torture equipment don't you think?!?!
10.30 am - Waiting in doctor's waiting room for epilepsy check up - I hate doctor's surgeries, even more so since I worked in one and know what goes on in these terrible hives of disease and time wastery - I had to wait for ages because the person before me was an elderly chap who had trouble walking and was in there for at least half an hour more than his appointment time permitted, probably boring the doctor with utter hyperchondria and stories of his old war injury - I remember those people - they like to bore receptionists as well - and complain bitterly when they are the ones kept waiting - oh the injustice
12.00 pm - Phone call offering me that job as predicted - I turn it down - (not so) curly one feels guilty about it - I feel bad that he feels bad - ain't love grand?!?!
Yesterday was a rubbish day... and now in my new found self indulgent emo fashion, I'm going to write about it here and you are going to read it... because that is what the blogging forum is for...so there.
10.10 am - Smear test - undignified and uncomfortable - I know most of the people who read this are men and will therefore never be subjected to the indignity that is the internal examination - at least until the time comes for the prostate exam (which is probably worse than a smear - but largely reserved for the elderly gentleman so none of my readers are likely to have experienced it) but being told to 'just relax' whilst lying semi naked on a couch with your legs splayed while someone shoves a large, cold, unlubricated, metal phallus up your most delicate of delicates, widens it and then scrapes your internal walls with bits of plastic is not the most enjoyable of experiences - This is a speculum by the way - lovely looking little bit of torture equipment don't you think?!?!
10.30 am - Waiting in doctor's waiting room for epilepsy check up - I hate doctor's surgeries, even more so since I worked in one and know what goes on in these terrible hives of disease and time wastery - I had to wait for ages because the person before me was an elderly chap who had trouble walking and was in there for at least half an hour more than his appointment time permitted, probably boring the doctor with utter hyperchondria and stories of his old war injury - I remember those people - they like to bore receptionists as well - and complain bitterly when they are the ones kept waiting - oh the injustice
12.00 pm - Phone call offering me that job as predicted - I turn it down - (not so) curly one feels guilty about it - I feel bad that he feels bad - ain't love grand?!?!
