It's been a while. The story so far....

It feels like ever such a long time since I have had a whole lunch break free to write tosh on the internet, but here I am, 45 minutes to spare, not much to say (as ever) but running full steam ahead into my first blog for months.

The stress of it all:

My life has been hectic of late, and it all needs to slow down a tiny bit before my brain rots. I can't even try to explain all of what is going on right now, so I'll just do little bits OK?


The job thing:


SO I got a cool new job, UK account manager (which I think makes me almost important and almost a cunt, not sure what the split is yet though). I also got my first ever brand new shiny car. Look at it. Go on.

And all was well with the world of Ben. I've been at this company now forever. It's the only place I've ever had a "real" job. I started in about 98 just working in the factory making stuff.


The problem is that deep down I know that all is not well here. Nothing happens as it should. I think whilst I was at a slightly lower level I could ignore it, but now it bugs me..... A lot.



Then last month I notice a company I really like have an opening for a job.



I apply.

Get it.

Start the week after next.



And it all happened that quickly, I wasn't looking for another job it just sort of bumped into me. It's all good of course, just really unsettling. Really. This PC, my phone, my car, my laptop are all theirs, which feels odd. It's like I'm leaving lots of little bits of me behind.



The hutch:


OK, so in order to separate my tiny wife from her PC occasionally we decided it'd be a good idea to build her a little hutch in the garden to house her and the PC. In there she could work away busily, then come back to the house and leave it all locked away at the end of the garden. All sounds good eh?


Being a man, I'm fucked if I'm going to pay some monkey to put up a perfectly simple shed. So I order it and begin. The thing arrives as a big pile of sticks. No panels. Each plank is individual. Only with the help of a few good men (Tris and spaddy) have we got so far. It's now glazed, the chandelier is up (not kidding) and it's getting there. I've just got to insulate, plaster board then electrify it and it'll be all done.

Behold.


The cool thing is my new job is home based (not at homebase) so I get to share the hutch too!










I'm not even going to start on telling you about the kitchen or the boat or the garden or the business coz I've got to go back to work now.


A few links for you though

A few new photos on here.

Weebl things. This is odd. So is this.

Fat pie stuff. But some people just don't care for it.

God bless us, everyone.

Incredibly disjointed random burbling. Sorry.

I've been blogging for over a year now. I find that vaguely depressing, but in the twilight of December most things appear somewhat darker than they otherwise would.

Today is the winter solstice (or maybe it's tonight or tomorrow, I don't know. It's just fucking dark OK). I'm not sure if this is a good or a bad thing. The positive part of my brain is quietly murmuring something about it getting lighter from now on, whilst the rest of my black grey matter is screaming in my ears about the dark. I'm sure this shit gets worse every year.

My hangover today is sponsored by the lovely Reece productions (check out his new shiny site) and peach flavor sambuca. It was his works Christmas party last night, as it was this time last year. I'll let him tell you all about it, but in short, good live music, free beer and the company of friends.

In order to fully Christmas ourselves up, last week we went to see st agnes fountain. It's a kind of folk blues take on Christmas songs. Very jolly, and perfectly executed. I'm not sure I was feeling quite Christmassy enough to enjoy it as much as the other chaps, but they were all first class musicians.

Here is some Christmas cheer from fatpie. As usual it's pretty fucked up. If it offends you then complain to the man or just bitch about it down the pub, at least it'll give you something to talk about you detestable little fuckup.

Finally. The strangest dream last night:
I arrive home to my 1980's bungalow (?) with all of my Christmas shopping, I back the car into the drive then jump out to open the front door, leaving the car running. I open the door and turn back to retrieve my shopping, and kind of snuffling around in the doorway are 2 badgers, then a couple leap off the roof of the house, they were all badgering around in a nice sort of way. So I call Lizzie through to see this incredible thing, when someone jumps into the car and drives it off with all my shopping onboard. So then I go off in some mad rage to chase the car thief down, random running down duel carriage ways blah blah blah. So I catch up with the little git in the hallway of a dodgy block of flats and smash his head in against the wall in a brutal fashion, when I realize that he knows exactly where I live and will probably come and get me in the night or something. So I try to make friends with him? What the fuck does that mean? I woke up feeling quite stressed and needing a wee.

I think that's all really, I'll try to make a bit of an effort to write something more coherent next time.

Stuff to waste your day with.

I found this in an old email of mine. Most strange. You can drag her around with your mouse, but I like to let the bitch fall.

This is very good. You'll need sound. Music by the produkts, described on their myspaz page as Experimental / Speedpunk / Harshbreakz / Dumbcore.

Sledge type game, try to get him to loop the loop.

This made me laugh a lot, much violence.

New burnt face man episode 7. Not everyones cup of tea.

Delusions of Grandeur.

I’m not a person who can enjoy other peoples talent, this is very sad. It’s something that’s bothered me for a few years, but getting these photos printed and framed has really made me think about it.

I bought the frames for a couple of the photos from IKEA (Note: this should always be pronounced ICKIER whether like me you shop there or not) because getting all the frames made would have cost me a large fortune. Whilst browsing the frames (If you can describe the gash timber they join together using only monkey spit as a frame) I started looking at some of their stock photography. There was nothing so incredible that I bought it, but it was in a different league to mine (as you would expect from professionals). Rather than leaving me inspired, or even with a few ideas to steal, it left me feeling incredibly flat. I almost left without any frames, but quickly reconsidered when I imagined trying to explain to Lizzie how “I didn’t buy any frames because the bigger boys photos were so much better than mine”. She wouldn’t have said anything but she’d have justifiably thought I was a twat.

I was thinking about it all the way home, trying to work out why it bothered me so much to see pictures superior to mine, especially bearing in mind most of my photos are just holiday snaps and these guys are professionals. It reminded me of when I used to sing, I’d find it painful to go to a gig where a guy sang well, I’d be unreasonably jealous. Why does it depress me to see people do something well? ..…. In fact, if I’m more honest that’s not what goes through my mind, what I think is “why does it depress me to see people do something better than me?” It doesn’t matter what it is, mountain biking, sailing, singing, anything that I can do to a mediocre standard. Is it because somewhere at the back of my mind I think “if only I applied myself to ********* I could be the best. If not the best then in the running” and when I see someone actually do something to a high standard, it makes me realize I am sadly lacking. (I’m telling myself in my head now that I’m only lacking in motivation, I can do anything… But I know I’m lying)……………………….

Shit, this has tailed off into a long whine, not how I had imagined it on my way to work this morning.

So, how do I set attainable targets for my life. Should I? It might avoid disappointment.

Why can I not enjoy seeing someone do something well? Am I competitive, or just fucked off with being slightly below average?

Feedback required please. (gentle)

So I've finally got round to sorting out some photos to put up in the delicatessen, they'll be up for sale but I doubt I'll sell (m)any. I'm after a little bit of feedback on which are OK and which are shit, so if you have the time and the inclination please leave me some comments. I'm not sure what to do about names, any good ideas would be appreciated.

Oh, it should be noted that most of these pictures look a load better in larger sizes and higher res, they can be seen a bit better here . It also should be noted that I tried to fix the pictures so that they didn't overlap all sorts of stuff, all I succeeded in doing was screwing up the pictures so I gave up.

Benjamin.

1. Headlands.

2. Yacht racing in Kinsale.

3. Aldeburgh beach.

4. Basin regatta 06.1

5. Basin reggata 06.2

6. Shiny sand??

7. Row boats.

8. Heading for St Cat's

9. Hardy 06.

10. Dionaea muscipula.

11. Geranium?

12. Low water.

13. Shoal Waters.

14. Old Gaffer.

15. Quiet Anchorage off Osea.

16. Black Rose 05.

17. Telegraph and the moon.

18. Aldeburgh birds.

19. Aldeburgh Boats.

20. Veiw from the Fullbridge.

21. The Brent.

22. Still Mersea.

23. Driftwood.

24. Still Mersea neg.

Avast! Holidays! Shipwrecks! Randomness! New site!

Yarrrrrr It is talk like a pirate day once again, so don't miss the opportunity.

Holidays!

So I imagine you're bursting to know how I got on with the Irish? OK.
we had a fully relaxing week, lots of swimming and good food.
This is where we stayed. The cottage was ideal for us, it had the feel of a place which had been rennovated to a very high standard, but then got a bit shabby around the edges. The pool was right outside the front of the cottage, we swam at least once a day and had the pool to ourselves everytime.
High lights of the holiday for me were:

1. The swearing tramp. He was fucking awsome, he swore right at me, sadly I missed the photo opportunity.
2. The rats of Kinsale. (not a myth or story, just a lot of rats by the road in Kinsale which entertained me (not by doing any kind of performance, just their presence pleased me))
3. The truly absorbing battle re-enactment here, featuring classic lines such as "Oh no. they've gone and killed my sister, and whilst she was pregnant and everything" It was good, and almost made me cry laughing.
4. Going whaling. Sadly we caught no whales. Saw some seals and dolphins and sunfish though. Seals.
5. Amazing scenery.

I think that's about it. Oh, I nearly forgot, if you were thinking of flying from Gatwick just don't bother. The useless fuckups have completely forgotten how to run an airport, the whold place was swarming with terrorists and lost luggage. I have never seen that airport more chaotic or feel less secure, it was a very harsh contrast to the lovelyness of Corks new airport, Mmmm.

Gurgling shipwrecks!

On a slight downside my boat sank. It got blown over in the storm last week, filled up with water and then sank. Pic. Pic. Nearly everything down below was trashed, the engine is being repaired this week. Bugger. I have had such a shit year with that boat, I think I've sailed it once when it's all been working properly. Sadly it's not insured. The hull and rig seem OK and I'm in the process of checking what else can be rescued. Just to really set things off nicely I blew my company car up at the same time, and then almost burned out the little hire car I had (the Vauxhall Corsa is a shit car, don't let Joanna tell you any different) meaning I had to try and squeeze the entire muddy contents of my boat into a brand new hire car, without getting it all shitty. What a faff. Incredibly after the initial outburst of fury I've not been that cross about it all.

Randomness!

On my way in to work this morning I put on one of J's mix CD's. What a mistake. It fully depressed me almost instantly by bringing back memories of the band I was in, how different my priorities were then. When did I lose my passion for writing crap songs? It made me feel old and realise I have failed to achieve any single thing I set out to do when I was younger. Is that bad? Unusual? I think not. But that doesn't change or diminish the bleak lost feeling it gives me when I look backwards. It reminded me of a Del Amitri song, but then I think most things do.

New site.

Check out our new website http://www.maldondeli.co.uk/ created by the incredible reece productions at a very reasonable price whilst providing fabulous service. I would highly reccomend them, as I'm sure would Jamie. What a love he is.

See you all soon.

Benjamin.

The screaming is getting louder.

It's been a while since I had a good rant, the minute I get properly worked up about something I get distracted by another and even more infuriating thing. The resultant screaming inside my head is clearly audible to those who are brave enough to enter my office. The worst thing is that because of the constant distraction, my furious anger has no direction, no target. What I need is a good scapegoat . Someone to take the blame for this awful weather and the long list of other shit that causes me to foam at the mouth and chew peoples fingers off.

Perhaps I should get a dungeon and someone to torture?

No, a bit dark for me. Too Goth.

Maybe a drive by shooting on pension day? Gunning down the infirm and elderly has got to be a good stress buster.

Oh, I forgot the fool never got me that AK47.

Any ideas? It's just that I'm going to Ireland on Saturday with my smallest wife (it will be our first wedding anniversary) and I don't think it's fair for her to suffer my anger yet again*.

*If I remain angry during our only holiday of the year over our anniversary I think she may kill me. She is only tiny, but OOOOOOOh so fierce.

Game.

www.nudisttrampolining.com

Look at what I made.

These are the pictures following the build of my stitch and tape selway fisher design rowing/motor canoe thingy.

She's called stitch.




















The black tags you can see in the pictures are cable ties, at this point there is no glue, or screws or anything other than cable ties and wood.




















Basically you just cut out some bits of ply to certain shapes (drawings supplied by selway fisher)
then join them all up with zip ties or wire and you've got a boat shape. Easy.




















This is the boat all glued up with the rubbing strake, seats, fore deck and elbows fitted. We decided to glass fibre the bottom of the boat to reinforce it, we used some fairly thick chop strand glass fibre which doesn't look too nice but is good and strong, it's only on the very bottom so shouldn't show too much.




















This was the trial run with J, we rowed around a bit. I then decided that it would be a good idea to fit my 5hp engine to the back (In the design it suggests a maximum of 2hp).




















She worked perfectly with the engine, planed straight away and flew along. The bow wave splashed over the side a bit, but other than that it was a complete success.















That's it. We used 2 sheets of 4mm marine ply, and about 1/2 a sheet of 12mm, we found some scrappy old bits of pine for the rubbing strake. I think we used about 8L of polyester resin. I'm not exactly sure how much she cost in the end, but it wasn't much!

So, I almost killed Dave on Tuesday.

Pretty silly really. I had offered to loan a colleague of mine, Dave, one of my kites for his weeks holiday, he has flown a few power kites before, mine and other peoples, he has an LEI 12m surf kite he bought (off e-bay) which he has flown once. Anyhow, he has just bought a scrub mountain board and wanted a kite a bit smaller and easier to setup than his, so he could practice whilst on holiday. I told him it would be best, since he was reasonably inexperienced, if we went out at lunch time to set it up and have a quick fly. It was pretty windy when we got down to the field but I had a quick fly around anyway, the kite was very powered up but it was possible to fly it safely. I handed the kite over and strapped on the kite killer safety line, I told him to let go if he was overpowered, he flew it OK for a minute but then went too deep into the power zone so that the kite picked him up about 6 inches, he then over compensated a couple of times, all the while getting deeper into the power (sliding along rather than getting picked up now), “let go” I shouted several times to no avail, he disappeared down the field to eventually get picked up 5ft and bounced a couple of times hard on the ground before finally letting go. I think he only finally let go when rendered unconscious from the second impact. Watching him bounced so hard on the floor he looked like a rag doll made me feel quite nauseous. When I got over to him he was either stunned or unconscious as he wasn’t responding to my voice. Fuck. I was really worried. He had a nasty graze to his head, was leaking in a few places and looked quite broken. A young boy came over (Alex?, thank you very much for your help if you happen to read this) and offered to phone an ambulance, I said yes, checked Dave could breathe OK and kept trying to ask if he could hear me. His eyes were rolled right up into his head, which combined with the blood made him looked proper fucked. He sort of came round 30 to 45 seconds later (though it seemed like forever). Thank god he was OK. The ambulance arrived, checked him out and said he would feel a bit shaken up but apart from the grazes had done no real harm. His black eyes have only just started to come out today.

I feel very responsible for this.

I shouldn’t have even got the kite out of the bag, it was blowing about 20mph.

I should have known better than to hand it over to someone with so little experience even though he insisted it would be OK. Some people have loads of bravado which kind of tricks you into thinking it'll be OK.

I should have made him practice with the kite safety system even though I have seen him use it before.

It’s only by good fortune that he was not really badly injured. I might stop letting any of my friends fly my kites, I’m not sure that I am a good enough judge of the conditions or their ability, if any of them got properly broken I’d feel awful.

Oh, and it’s time I bought a helmet, which ones looks least spaceballish?
This or this or this

Eh Gringo. This beer tastes like piss..... 

Sunshine is better than blogging

As are most things.*

I will prove this statement by detailing in detailed detail the reasons I have written nothing lately, and why that is better than blogging. (sorry about the lack of pictures, I have spent a week trying to get the bloody upload button to work, I now give up)

1st blog free weekend 24-25 Jun.

Flying kites with Adam. Got a few OK jumps, missed the best one with the camera (as ever) but got this one.

This is the kite and me.

And again.

This is Adams kite in flight.

I really like his kite, though I do find myself ducking, wetting my pants and screaming when I occasionally mistake it for a massive silent bumble bee.

2nd blog free weekend 01-02 Jul.

Surfing in Croyde with Barney Aaron and Danny (the girl).

I’d never been surfing before, and was a little worried I wouldn’t be able to stand up on the board successfully, having read an article in here, about spending a whole weekend trying to learn to surf and failing miserably. I managed to get up on the first wave I caught! I fell off almost immediately but it was a bit of a confidence boost and really enjoyed the rest of the weekend. I went kiting on this beach (I realized later illegally, there is a £2000 fine for kite boarding, a bit steep I thought. The beach was perfect for it and the wind was SO clean)

That was it really, a cool part of England and a cheap weekend away.

My mid week escape from the clutches of blog 04-05 Jul.

Sailing Patrick’s posh new boat back from Woodbridge. The boat is a Hunter 272 TK. Having sailed the boat for a few miles now I have noticed one main thing, it’s just so much nicer than mine. To add insult to injury, I can’t possibly afford one. Piss.

Woodbridge is such a top town, I’m not sure why I like it quite so much because there’s not that much there, but I do. It’s on the river Deben which is a pretty river that meanders slowly down to the coast. Once you have allowed the idyllic river to lull you into a drowsy snooze it presents you with this. Well actually not that exactly, but I couldn’t find a picture of the sand bar at the entrance. It is only safe to cross the sand bar at certain stages of the tide. You basically have to point your boat at the right gap in the sand bar as the waves crash either side of you. OK, not quite as terrifying as a great white but it was mildly uncomfortable.

I just realized there is a weekend missing in my summary. 08-09 Jul. It wasn’t good. Nope. In fact Blogging may be marginally better than that weekend was. Enough said I think.

3rd blog free weekend 15-16 Jul.

Just so much sailing.

Pic. Pic.

Heybridge Basin regatta.

My boat was watching sulkily from the side lines as we raced past in Pat’s new boat, we managed to place 3rd, which is a good result considering we’d only sailed the boat one other time. I left a couple of photographers** perched on Gurgler so hopefully there will be some good snaps of the start line.

On Sunday a couple of races at Tollesbury sailing club, a 2nd and 3rd place which isn’t bad. It has been almost a year since I last sailed a dinghy so I was pleased to keep the boat upright, let alone finish at the right end of the fleet.

When you couple all that sailing with a 3am swim in someone else’s parents house, 2 very chilled barbeques and plenty of wine you can see why I felt disinclined to sit in front of a computer for longer than was essential.

That’s it. Fini. Stop blogging you bunch of crazy chow heads and go and enjoy the sun.


Sorry for the dullness, I think the sunshine has addled my brain.


*except working, which is really just shit.
** One of whom was John Louis, who is displaying his photos at m.deli at the moment don’t you know.

Moment of anger.

I fucking hate people who are known just by their initials. They can fuck off.

It might be because my initials are BJ, which is gay, but it doesn't change the way I feel about the pretentious cock ends who no longer feel the need to use their real names.

Mersea sunshine

Just some random things.

Hello beach flies.

(Blatantly stolen from Chris Morris, whose “Blue Jam” series on the radio remains a firm favorite download them all here. They are a mix of chilled out music and disturbed sketches. Don’t play them to your mum or kids or contact me if he offends you. It really is quite messed up)

I guess I thought I ought to write something as I haven’t for a few days, not sure quite what yet……….

So I played this whilst thinking about it, which helped. I think?

I guess I’ll tell you about some stuff that’s happened recently then:

Had a fabulous weekend, I disappeared, with my little wife, down to Mersea in our boat. We got a sound thrashing on the way down from Heybridge, and took on a little water. All the other boats out were bobbing along quite merrily whiles ours terrified the turds out of us. We were moored just to the left of the photo above and went to the pub (“The coast inn” which was OK, the food is pretty trashy but it was nice to sit outside with a bottle of Mersea wine which is not bad at all (we sell it at the deli if you’re interested!))

The sail on Sunday was much nicer, a really slow cruise up the river to the sounds of Donavon frankenreiter dragging a bottle of speckled hen out the back to cool it down for lunch. MMMMMmmmmm.
The battering our little boat took on Saturday has inspired us to buy something a little more sensible that wont feel quite so much like it’s going to sink or capsize every time it gets a little rough. So thinking about this or this?

Errrrr. So what else is going on?

Work is fucking me off as ever. They have point blank refused to replace my ageing company car now, so have given me a slightly less ageing one. A bastard Renault Laguna, how old do they think I am? Oh well, there’s plenty of room in the estate boot for my board and magnificent new kite (12.5m2 flysurfer Psycho (just between you and me, it’s a bit terrifying)).

That’ll do for now I think, it’s just getting duller and duller, and that’s the problem with having nothing to say. What started off as waffle and links has degraded into gibberish.

Bye.

Benajimn

Is everyone dead?

Or have you all discovered a life beyond blogging? No one intelligent has written anything in ages, so it's you I hold responsible for my nightmarish trip through blogland the other day. I was so bored that I decided to surf for some amusing new blogs to read, using the random "next blog" button. Have any of you actually read the drivel people write? I was foolishly under the impression that most blogs would be mildly amusing, but my GOD these people are dull, If I read one more "laughing is invaluable" or "today I really fancy pt but yesterday I liked fg now I hate fg" or "I have cancer send me nice comments" or "look at these photos of my kids, I love them. Family is so important to me, as is god" I'll go pissing insane. Some of them aren't even written in English!

Anyway rant over, now I know not to stray out of our little circle of blog.

How was the weekend for you people? do anything spesh? ( I have decided to adopt the word spesh as an abbreviation for special, please do not use this word if you are not appropriately cool, this word is at an awkward time right now and could turn spectacularly uncool if used inappropriately (if you require conformation of what an appropriate level of cool is, or want to know if you are, just ask (the chances are though if you need to ask you are not)))

Is everyone fed up with work this week?

Or is it just me?

I've been to the following places on work since my last blog, all of which have been total toss.

Munich
Southampton
St evenage
Cambridge
Edinburgh
Macclesfield

They were all bad in their own special ways, I won't go into it. Next week I go to.

The dentist for a double tooth extraction
Ipswich
Barcelona

No doubt misery will ensue.

So, sales beckons. My job is more and more involved in sales, my dilemma is that a large % of the people I meet who are fully sales people are full on cunty little fucktards. Is that my destiny? Will I soon drive a 3 series Beemer, play golf and screw around whilst away on work? Added to that it's getting more and more difficult to distinguish sales people from real people, now that no one will admit to being a "rep" anymore, it's all "area manager" and "product specialist" crap. That means I could already be a sales person and not know it? woe is me.... Maybe I should take a few weeks off sick and return to work unkempt, stinking of hash and Jack Daniels (surely a marketable fragrance?), to affirm to those who think I'd be a good sales monkey that actually I don't give a fuck and their best course of action would be to print my P45 immediately?

Piss.

Geneva.

Just thought I'd post this picture of my work trip last week. Cool city inhabited by lots of unexpectedly attractive people. I have to go to Munich this week, I wonder if that will be as nice? (Just so you know, I've already made a decision about Munich. The only flight I can get home is at 10pm on Friday night, on a bank holiday weekend. So as far as I'm concerned the place is a shit hole that I hope gets destroyed before I have to fly out)

Oh, also I got flashed by a nasty little speed camera whilst driving a hire car in Switzerland, anyone know whether the fine/points will find me?

Stop tagging me you fucking queers.

I wont play... I was doing nothing noteworthy 10 years ago, I have very average taste in music and have no intention of inflicting those frustrating pissing questions on anyone else.... AND we're English, we don't play "TAG", we play "IT".

That's right.

So to more pressing matters, the weekend and what I did. I'll summarize to reduce the otherwise unacceptable swear rate.

• Friday: Woke up mildly hung over to drive the boy reece-ford and myself to Tollesbury to return my tub of a boat to her mooring in Heybridge. Here is a picture of my grubby little boat so those of you who have not yet come out for a sail know what to expect. The sail was mainly uneventful with 3 exceptions.

1. We overtook a much larger posher boat with ease, causing the owner much consternation.
2. We saw the seal pictured below. Nice. He allowed us to sail very near by, we did a few passes.

3. I noticed a rotten bulkhead in the boat, unfortunately it is the one that holds the mast up. We were very lucky it didn't fall down on us. This meant no more sailing for the rest of my weekend, a slow festering rage set in. I'm not sure how to fix it yet, at the moment I'm kind of hoping it will magically disappear.

Saturday: Working at the deli, I had hoped for sunshine and a nice little job selling ice cream cones to very underdressed young girls, Oh well. I sold a few ice creams to old gimmers and a couple more to kids. The shop had a really busy Saturday, it was our best day in ages. I escaped early and rowed out to the boat to pray for my rotten wood. It was still rotten and looked a little closer to giving up the ghost. I rowed back to shore a little distracted and full on rammed a large gun punt. The large hole this left in my tender did nothing to improve my mood, it also let quite a lot of water in which made my feet wet. We had a nice evening though, cooked some handsome steaks for dinner and watched Narnia (I think it's ok to admit that?)

Sunday: Errrrr. What to tell? The first half of the day was uneventful, possibly even a little shit, I don't want to complain too much lest Alistair berate me for being a miserable git. Early evening we arrived at Bill and Jen's house for some food and booze. We sang some songs, burned some stuff let off some fire works, and I drank enough rum and bourbon to retard me for the next week. A good night was had by all I think, except for our poor hosts, what bits of their house avoided the burning got covered in mud. Sorry guys, thanks for a good night.

Mongday: I didn't feel too bad. We went for a walk with J to here? Which is a funny kind of place. We rolled down the big hill thing, this is something I can highly recommend, it made us all giggle like children. Liz proved to be the most adept at rolling, something to do with tits I think, me and J almost broke up on the way down. In the evening there was a family get together, it was pretty good, barring the moment my nephew kicked me full in the face.

I somehow managed to maintain my filthy mood for the entire weekend (except for the evening of frivolity at Jen's). I feel quite relieved to be back at work where there is no pressure at all to have a nice time or relax, I can be as miserable as I like here.

Homosexual Paris.

That's how it was described to me, I think I got the translation right?

So I'm stuck here at this show during this.... Hot piss. At least I leave this afternoon. I didn't speak to one customer all yesterday, what a waste of pissing time. On the upside the train ride was most relaxing, attractive service, good food and a short nap, nice.

So, how is Paris? OK I guess, I'll blog more later there are some customers arriving!!!!

Just so you know they're not all bad!

SO after my anti council rant I went to the meeting they invited me to, the meeting was to discuss future kiting activities on all of their land. I was not optimistic about the outcome as you know. Around 25 people turned up to the meeting in a small room in Burnham, all supporters of kite flying, there was no talk of a ban, they had just needed time to speak to their insurers and address the bad press in the local paper. The group of kiters in Burnham had drawn up a list of guidelines which were accepted, this included things like, kite fliers must be responsible for their actions and have third party liability insurance (about £15 from BBC) blah blah common sense blah. No dog walker had actually made a complaint to the council, they only reported it to the paper. No one objecting to the kites bothered to come to the meeting. The council behaved in a very reasonable way.

I thought I'd better add a picture to make this very dull blog a little more interesting.

Life on Mars.

So, I imagine like a few of you I was watching the last in the series of "Life on Mars" last night (if you didn't then don't bother reading this, it will bore you). Now although this series has been shit (but entertaining) all the way through, last night it really reached an all time fucking low. The plot for the whole series has been building up, based around some spooky weird shoe in the woods flash backs, to a reawakening from his coma. I think they reconsidered this at the last minute, perhaps thinking "people have actually watched this, quick change the ending, it doesn't matter if it totally fucks the story line up, we need to be able to put out another series next year". Instead of him waking up (which is pretty crap) they chose a totally shitty crap ending, where nothing really happened at all. It was like they had intended him to wake up but took out the essential scene at the last minute. It was probably the pissiest last episode of anything ever.

What they should have done was have him wake up, then die almost instantly of heart failure whilst swearing about the fact he shouldn't have bloody bothered waking up if that was all that was going to happen. That would have been brilliant.

I hope they don't get funding for the next crap series.

Arses.

Fly the actual sun using only strings? Yes I did!

Well I hope you all had an OK weekend. Mine was OK.. Acceptable. No it really was, there will be no ranting today.. Well it will definitely be reduced and with fewer swears.

I managed to escape my cleaning duties on Saturday and go fly a kite on Mersea. A friend of mine came along and took a few pictures, this is one of me flying the sun instead of a kite. I like to fly the sun, but it does tend to burn you retinas out, and attaching the strings is a painful process. I would recommend the use of oven gloves.

I'm sure this blog should have contained more than this but I have fully run out of words.

The amazing disappearing and reappearing air conditioning unit!

let me regale you with a quick tale of mystical air conditioning unit.

My smallest wife telephoned me in much distress earlier this week, to inform me of the disappearance of the large external box thing from our air conditioner at the deli, you know, the massive bit with the fan in it. Our box thing lives on the outside of our shop, which backs onto a little alleyway behind the Swan pub, we got permission from the kindly landlord to put the box there. Lizzie assumed that the landlord had grown tired of our unsightly electronic appliance and had it removed. She marched into his office (Stanley knife in hand with a vicious glint in her eye) to confront the blackguard. He, of course, denied any knowledge of the building bereft of its box. Even when she pinned him down, threatened to gut him and make him eat his very own intestines, he still insisted that he knew nothing. She was really very unhappy with the obviously deceitful landlord, but let him off with a black eye and fractured wrist.

On her way back to the shop from the afore mentioned conflict (I only used the word conflict because I wasn’t sure of the spelling of frackard? Anyone else?) she noticed the air conditioning box thing had returned. Or had she had been looking at the back of a totally different shop? Perhaps one not even connected to our shop? a totally different building?

She returned to the pub with profuse apologies and a splint for the poor mans wrist, and phoned me to explain what an ass she had been. Laughed? I nearly shat.

My bastard anger and the pain in my face?

Hello, or, as I like to say, fuck off. My apologies for the immediate use of bad language but I thought I'd get it over and done with early in this post so you knew what to expect. I should point out that I am tired and not a little angry.

Why am I so angry?

Well, let me explain, it all started on what I now like to refer to as "fucking rubbish Friday". I had booked a days holiday to spend with my darling wife, it would be our first weekend off together in over 30 years (well nearly 30 years.. If accuracy, dates and the truth are important to you then fuck off). We intended to spend it doing nice things, like washing skirting boards, cleaning windows and punching each other in the face. Unfortunately as it turned out it wasn't even that good.

We arose leisurely, I departed to the deli to steal what croissants they had. When I returned my small wife had been violently sick which set the tone for the rest of the pissing day (it might have something to do with the rancid fucked up excuse for a dinner we had eaten and paid for the night before.. Enough said). So, post vomit, Lizzie had a small snooze whilst I scrubbed and wiped. It was during this nap that lizzie's hairdresser/friend (and mine, very good she is too) called to let Lizzie know she had a free appointment.. Well, I almost wet myself with excitement and immediately suggested that Liz should go get her hair fixed, and then we could buy her some new jeans. Off we trotted to the hairdressers, Lizzie, slightly smelling of vomit and me, well doused in windowlene and bleach. What a delightful pair we were. Whilst she settled down to have her hair refashioned into something truly radiant and after I had given the stylist all the creative input I could muster, I set off to see the sights of Witham......... Bloody hell.. Really. Just don't.

I returned a full 10 minutes later full of the joys of spring and raving about the delightful high street and pleasant local folk.

This is getting dull, basically I waited about for 2 and a half bastard hours in chuffing Witham.

We set out to Colchester with renewed vigor and excitement at what other treats the day could hold in store for us. (The truth is that by this point I was now fully into my sulking cycle and was punching every second person we passed in the street. The fuckers). Colchester could be summarized like this; jeans were purchased, the same beggar asked me for money twice, we drove home. Quietly.

That evening the pub called, so we answered and drank whiskey.

Sadly bad stuff prevented Liz from having the Saturday off. Our weekend was slowly getting destroyed.

Thankfully on Saturday night a handsome pair invited Lizzie and myself to dine with them. Things were looking up. The dinner wine and conversation were all exceptionally good. We left our hosts at around 4:30 am having drunk a bottle of Jim Beam (the description in that link is pretty good, but my friend always describes it as" Jack Daniels thrown up". Nice) between us and a few bottles of red. Fuck it, we were drunk, there was no escaping it. We sat up having a final night cap listening to the dawn chorus pondering the hangover which would discover us in the morning.

Sunday....................................

Its just best if we don't discuss Sunday here, safe to say it was bollocks. We'd planned to have a day out somewhere and a nice lunch. We wound up eating in a pizza express in Colchester and being cold. In fact after that Sunday I'm tempted not to bother with the one predicted for next week.

My hangover was still bothering me on Monday. I think that means I'm old?

On Tuesday, or "the long day of immense frustration, crap and little cunting annoying things" as it will now be known, I was out of bed and pointing my car towards Stanstead airport earlier than I had gone to bed on Sunday morning. It was really early. The car park barrier machine swallowed my credit card, and then refused to work. I flew to Spain ate some shit food then flew home. After all the delays I got home at about 1:30 Wednesday morning. I'm still a bit too angry to write more about this, safe to say I was and am a little tired.

Bye for now. Hopefully I'll return refreshed and lovely, but I doubt it somehow.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggghhh, I've just remembered I've got to do my poxy VAT return before the end of this month.

Oh, some slightly amusing shit, this and this.

Lets go fly a kite? Oh no sonny, not here you little twat!

So, I was out flying my kite at the weekend in my usual spot, there was no one else in the field except my friend and me. It was good, the wind was a bit shabby but it was nice to be outside in the fresh air getting a bit of exercise. We had 2 kites up, a 7.2m2 and a 3m2, after about 5 minutes of flying I notice a gentleman heading towards us. I prepared myself for the questions and answers game which always ensues:

Q - That's a big kite isn't it?
A - Yes it is, that's right.
Q - Can it lift you right off the ground?
A - Yes it can.
Q - How is it that you are so impossibly cool?
A - I just am, my ripped jeans and unfeasibly expensive sunglasses do play an important part in it though.
Q - Do you have superman eye lasers?
A - No, I'm afraid I don't... I am quite hard though, and did take several Judo lessons.

My answers prepared I look up to acknowledge the new comer. The conversation went something like this:

Park ranger - You cant fly that here anymore, sorry about that. Go away.

Me - Oh. That's a shame. Is it something to do with an increased gravitational force created from some sort of new secret underground centrifuge for making children who misbehave very dizzy and forcing the fluid out of new baby lambs lungs? Will my kite fall out of the sky?

Park ranger - No, it's nothing to do with our secret underground centrifuge. It's because there's this woman in Burhnam who thinks her dog (whilst running wildly out of control and out of sight) may have been hurt by someone flying a kite. The only logical thing we can do to stop this sort of catastrophe from happening in the future is to stop anyone flying kites on any of our land.

Me - Oh, piss. That is a shame.

Park ranger - We do like all you kitey people, you tend to poo less on our grass and bite less people, but we can't risk any bad press. That's a big kite isn't it?

Me - That is right, it is.

To be honest, it wasn't exactly like that. He was very polite, but it does mean I can't fly my kite on the prom until they have decided what to do. Lets face it, once they do a risk assessment they'll never let us fly anywhere near the prom. I'm actually feeling quite hard done by, not because I believe them to be acting totally unreasonably in wanting some control of the situation, but because I won't be able to go down for 30 minutes flying after work in the summer to chill out.

Here is a picture of the flying site, as you can see I am clearly surrounded by children and ditsy dogs. What a worry I must be to all the surrounding people just trying to enjoy the park, not wanting to be disturbed by an irresponsible kiter.

I hope they do see sense and let me at least fly in one of their fields.

Benjamin

Happy Valentines Day.

This in no way reflects my mental state. Nor do I approve of this cartoon in any way. If you are easily offended just dont bother. Oh, and you'll need sound.

My apologies for the very poor taste.

A good read.

I really enjoyed the latest blog here.

Anger Management.

I have noticed lately that I am prone to develop a terrible RAGE in the morning. I am particularly fucking angry this morning, so if you were thinking of calling me for a chat just piss off.

Not much to say.

I really haven't.

He always has, and it makes me feel very inadequate.

So then chow heads, I guess I'll waffle for a bit about last week, but let me make it clear from the start this is going to make dull reading.

Wednesday... The day started badly by yet again finding myself at work the morning after an evening of entertainment sat in a tractor shed in Latchingdon. Woo. It got slightly better from then on, and reached its dramatic climax when I remembered we had been invited to the opening of a new portuguese restaurant in Maldon, O'davista or something like that. Well the place looks OK, (it's where the vinery was, AKA La Borsa, opposite the oak house?) they've done all sorts of things inside, there's a different bar and I'm almost certain the walls are a different colour. The food was OK, it was just a buffet sort of thing, and the booze was free so I can't really complain. (I'm sure I intended the paragraph on Wednesday to be more interesting than that, but I guess I need to keep it true to life, I couldn't suddenly start telling you I had been taming lions or gun running from Cuba, could I?)

Thursday... Please see paragraph above, the booze was free, I was drinking red wine. I need not go into too much detail as to how I felt. ........................

So, Friday... I usually manage to escape the office at about OOooohh 13:45 to go and fly kites or do something else far removed from my office drudgery, but this Friday didn't quite work out like that. 4 hours worth of fucking dire mind numbing worthless squelch ridden (those phones really piss me off, the bastard calls only take so long because no one can hear a poxy word anyone else is saying) conference call later I left the office just as it was getting dark. I took my kite out for the last 20 minutes of light, but alas the wind was shit, yes it was. The evening was quiet, I had planned some online murdering with my friendly IT support person but forgot my all important pass code thing, BF2 was cancelled so I went to the pub instead. Liz went to a pottery painting birthday party and left me at home, the lucky bitch.

On Saturday... The old man and me had planned a long cycle ride, we intended to go from Bradwell to Burnham using the sea wall, unfortunately he duffed his back up at yoga (I'm sure he only goes to look at the ladies, he's the only fella there) so we had to limit it to a short jaunt to Goldhanger and a pint of Guinness. Apart from the 2 punctures I got before I even left the house it was a fairly acceptable way of spending a Saturday. When it got dark I cooked dinner for me and the missus and watched a truly awful film "ladder 49" with John Travolta and some other life affirming mumblies. A film that bad could make you angry. This is an excerpt from one of the kinder reviews "John Anderson - Newsday - The movie's sense of opportunism - added to a story and execution sodden with pathos, and a soundtrack that, when not taking a fire ax to your cerebellum, is scratching guitar strings into scrap metal - would seem to make "Ladder 49" bearable only to people in deep mourning and vulnerable to emotional coercion. Which is, of course what makes the whole thing so distasteful." That seems to sum it up pretty well, so I wont bother.

Sunday is the only one left... So breakfast, papers, a wander round a farmers market in Chelmsford and then the canal, topped off with some pints, red wine and roast dinner cooked for me, can't go wrong for a Sunday really! The only slight concern I have about Sunday is the disturbing discovery made down the pub that J has an unhealthy obsession with POO. He is a constant worry to us all, I can only hope that one day he becomes more socially acceptable.

I hope you all have an tolerable week, lets face it, it's too early in the year to hope for anything good.

This entertained me.

chutney

A sad weekend.

Morning all, hope you had a good weekend and managed to get outside on Saturday, the weather here was georgeous. The weekend started out in a fairly promising way with some mountain biking and kite flying, all was well. Sadly on Sunday we found our hedgehog Horris had died. For those of you who dont know, some friends of ours gave us a very unhealthy hedgehog to look after late last year. They found him wandering up a major road, he weighed under half what he needed to be to hibernate and was smothered in ticks. We got rid of all the ticks and fed him up to size, whilst he was underweight he lived in our bathroom in a wicker basket. About 2 weeks ago we decided he'd put on enough weight to hibernate, so we moved him out into a hutch next to the back door. He seemed perfectly well, his eating slowed (I thought to hibernate) then he died. The bugger. I was actually quite upset, I think in the process of feeding him up and pulling a large number of ticks out of him we'd got quite attached. Oh well..

Ode to Horris:

Horris was thin before he got fat
And smelled very bad, due to his penchant for scat
He pooed in his food, in his water and bed
But not anymore because he is dead.

So all in all a bit of a duff weekend, loads of deaths, well, a whale and a hedgehog anyway, it's also another year gone by since my sister died, which just seems impossible. We all still miss her a lot.
Hope this week is a sunnier one.
Benjamin.

Too busy to Blog? Eh? Punk?

Hi all. Well this has been a crazy busy week, so no entertaining witty Blog from me (no change there then), but writing nothing just seemed so wrong, then I started to feel guilty, is that weird? So I decided I had better write something, or else who knows what might happen....

I guess you are all gagging to know what I've been doing all week?
Picking my nose?
Photographing my fingers?
Trying out makeup?
Eating fish and chips in a grubby shop with the Dutch and Germans?

All of the above, yes that’s right. I guess now you need more detail.

Monday Morning and the Makeup Horror:

Except for my almost complete lack of sleep when I first got out of bed it seemed like any other Monday morning. I found my way to the bathroom (which I might add was in its normal location) turned all the lights on, then the hot water, took a piss then looked in the mirror. To my dismay someone had used a marker pen to draw huge black bags under my eyes (the bastards are always up to something), as I washed my face I realized that it must have been a posh kind of pen because the bags seemed to be sort of 3D and feel like actual skin. I've always known they were clever but this was a bit much! As I scrubbed my face I began to consider the possibility that no one had been drawing on my face, "could it be that I am knackered and these are mine own bags" I said. 5 minutes later I was happy that it was my face, and that they wouldn't wash away. Well what options were left open to me? I could go to work looking like I was some kind of uber tired freak drugged up Sound engineer , maybe I could sand paper the worst of the bags off, perhaps I could use some kind of cosmetic product? Having almost immediately dismissed the first 2 (I only had 800 grit paper which just wouldn't do the job, and I had no black T shirt clean so couldn't possibly impersonate a sound engineer) I decided cosmetics were the sensible way to go. What to use? I rifled through Liz's makeup bag, moisturizer, foundation, eyeliner, lipstick, ahhh toner that sounds good and not too gay. SO on with the toner...
NOTE: don't put toner in your eyes, and if you are a man don't put toner on at all.. You will smell like a gay lord. for the remainder of the day.

enough said I think.

I imagine the rest of my week is fairly self explanatory (and I spent too much time explaining the makeup fiasco), so I will cover the rest in brief:

Picking my nose, what's to say really? bogeys?

Photographing my fingers. well easy to explain that one. I am writing a short service manual for a piece of shit we make, sadly my hand double has been busy all week, so I had to do my own hand stunts. sounds easy, but balancing a camera 10kg heating block and screwdriver whilst trying to get the exposure right is no mean feat.

MMMmmmm, the fish and chips eh? Well as you might expect when you reach the dizzying heights of a successful career like mine you get to have some pretty posh business lunches.. Yes seriously. I had 2 guys come and see me today from a company we deal with in Holland and all they wanted was fish and chips, what must they think of us? So picture this, 5 smartly dressed blokes in a very grubby fish and chip shop (it doesn't merit the word restaurant) on Southend sea front, all sat at one tiny table surrounded by pensioners. The fish and chips weren't bad actually, but the aroma of piss and formaldehyde emanating from the table next to me kind of put me off.


Take care. Best of luck with your weekend an all that rot.

Benjamin.

It is January, THIS IS NOT A TEST.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH.

I woke up at about 10am today and found myself at work sat in front of my computer typing.. Surely this is a joke I thought to myself, but nobody seemed to be laughing. After a few short and confusing phone calls I realised that this was not a complex prank but actually my first day back to work.

Bugger. I wonder how I got here?

For those of you who are unaware of my Christmas activities here is a brief rundown:

• Christmas day with Lizzie and her folks (rating = good at first, changing to tense when a hostile faction launched a brutal attack on the host, once eliminated it was much more relaxed.) (If only crackers came loaded with tear gas it would have been a much shorter exchange of fire)
• Boxing day (rating = MMmmmm lay in and the first lazy day, later to my Ma and Pa's for some food)
• There is a small blank patch in my memory here, I think caused by the shock of returning to work without the aid of cannabis or any other drugs.
• 31st new years eve, fly to Ireland for drinks. In bed by 12:30, I'm still not sure how it quite happened. Pah.
• We then had a few really good days in Ireland in a cottage with Vickie and Jamie. There was drinking, flying of kites, eating and walking (not in that order, but in hindsight I wonder if we should have rearranged slightly so it was?)

So

Now it's January and 2006 I guess I'd better do something about it. I'm afraid my new years resolutions are the same as last year.

1. Have more adventures.
2. Stay alive at least for another year.

Ummm, what more to say?

Piss.

Wednesday.. Ding Ding.

Is everyone ready? Yes? Well get on, it's Wednesday now.
Unfortunately I have a hangover thanks to the lovely Reece-Ford, who paid for all of my beer last night. I ate a meagre dinner (chilli in pitta bread doesn't work well, too sloppy) at 12pm (doing my little bit to help in the prevention of hunger mrk) and have since realised it would have been a much more sensible option to eat before going to the bar. Piss...
Anyway lets not dwell on the hangover, I now have coffee and various crappy work to do!
Thanks again J, a good night was had by all
(well not everyone everywhere had a good night... obviously, some people may have had an awful time (anyone else watch the very depressing Bob Geldof thingy?))

Correction: a good night was had by all those who were invited (and actually went) to the
Reece-Productions Christmas doo.

Happy Christmas!

From me ("the wisher") to you (hereinafter called "the wishee"), please accept without obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, politically correct, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all and a financially successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2006 , but with due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures or sects, and having regard to the race, creed, colour, age, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform or dietary preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting you are bound by the following terms:

This greeting is subject to further clarification or withdrawal.
This greeting is freely transferable provided that no alteration shall be made to the original greeting and that the proprietary rights of the wisher are acknowledged.
This greeting implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes.
This greeting may not be enforceable in certain jurisdictions and/or the restrictions herein may not be binding upon certain wishees in certain jurisdictions and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.
This greeting is warranted to perform as reasonably as may be expected within the usual application of good tidings, for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first.
The wisher warrants this greeting only for the limited replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher. Any references in this greeting to "the Lord", "Father Christmas", "Our Saviour", or any other festive figures, whether actual or fictitious, dead or alive, shall not imply any endorsement by or from them in respect of this greeting, and all proprietary rights in any referenced third party names and images are hereby acknowledged

Today is a Tuesday.

When I awoke this morning I noticed it was a Tuesday, I commented to myself how entirely different to yesterday that makes it. I imagine tomorrow will be another day too, its amazing isn't it. Then soon it will be next year
(yay (I guess putting something in italics makes it sound sarcastic? I dunno) )

Ahhhhhh, in the same place and day as young Reece-fords image. AHA

This is so much fun, I can't believe it. WOOOOOOOOO