Great Scott!

Unfortunately this post will probably mean little to anyone other than those who work in my office. As our company gets smaller, so does the space we occupy in the office. As a move to save some money on our part, some bright spark invited the other companies in the building to share our floor [hmm if this is relevant only to people in the office maybe they already know this part]. So now in true style of the BBC's 'The Office', we lovingly refer to our new lodgers as 'the Swindon lot'. It's basically meant that the office has become a 'no fun' zone.

There is one young guy in particular though called Scott, and we all reckon he thinks he is IT. There is no grounding for this hypothesis really, none of us has ever bothered to make the effort to get to know him. But he sits there at the end of the row of desks giggling with Ros, I think I know the truth though. Jon is really jealous of him, honestly he mentions him everyday, well either that or he fancies him... where did that come from?

Hair Today

Okay I admit it, I am such a pervert.

I went and got my haircut this lunchtime and the sexiest, buffest, Turkish hairdresser cut my hair. For god sakes man stop looking at him, those muscly arms, that chiseled jaw, oh god I'm back there right now;

"Have I cut your hair before?"

Chances are.

"Is that okay?"

Which part? I really should put an end to this. Now.

Flipping Out

I realise as I'm making this post, this is the third one featuring an animal, it's not intentional I promise, but also it's the third entry regarding a guy I work with (remember the white black coffee man?).

So what's he done this time? Well we're talking about pets this morning, I was commenting on how I hate those scrotey little Scottie dogs. He says 'I thought you like dogs', I replied saying I do, I like most of them, just not Scotties (and a few others), besides I sponsor a lovely dog. [sighing] so the conversation then goes like this:

Him: I've got a sponsored pet

Me: Really, what?

Him: I sponsor a Dolphin... I gave it to my Nephew as a gift.

Me: A gift to your Nephew? Well it's not really your pet then is it?

Him: But I pay for it.

Me: But if you gave it to your Nephew as a gift, surely it's theirs, you don't give someone a gift and then say 'it's mine', it's theirs.

Him: No, but...

Me: Technically you are taking back a gift you gave to an innocent child. Get out of my sight you grotty man.

Okay, okay, I may have paraphrased the last bit a little for comedic effect, but that is pretty much how it went!

Yummer, Yummer, Yummers

I threw a little dinner soiree on Saturday night and was delighted with how it all went, a menu of my own concoction that actually tasted yummy. Brilliant. I did Chicken Breast stuffed with Gorgonzola & Homemade Pesto, wrapped in Pancetta, basted with Balsamic Vinegar and Garlic and topped with fresh Rosemary. Served up with Wild Rice and Roasted Vegetables. For pudding was my set piece of Banoffee Pie (homemade of course) I'm so happy!

The ensuing consumption of at least 12 bottles of wine, yes 12, and a bottle of Vodka and numerous cans of beer between 9 of us until 4:30am was also mighty impressive I thought!! We even managed to break the karaoke machine. The neighbours will be so happy!! So the next big event will be the Eurovision party, bring it on!

What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?

Did I say? I hate Valentines Day. Yes, yes, I know I'm only saying it because I'm single, but some how at 31 years it's become rather like one of those annoying Christmas hits that you don't want to hear, but you know you're going to regardless.

All Valentines does is add fuel to the fire that is already smouldering, that I'm going to end up a bitter, damaged, old queen. And I know I've posted that before.

Happy Valentines. Bah Humbug.

Cracking The Fat

Has anyone else noticed this advert? Do you think they realise how easily it is misread. The first time I saw it, I simply read 'Lads Fats' like the little 'cracking-the-man-fat' pervert I am, then when I saw it elsewhere, I read it 'Loads Of Fats', which I thought doesn't really sell the product to me.

It's a shame, I'm quite partial to a Hob Nob, but I do find their ad campaign a bit shit. A shitty hob nob, now there's a thought.

Ends.

Check Out My Nuns...er Guns

Holy muscle of Mary. As my good friend smahman has just pointed out; getting fit was possibly one of the worst things I ever did to myself. As he said, I was already a show off long before I thought about going to the gym, all working out has done has made me into a vain, narcissistic, prudy old queen (well 31). Seriously though, is there anything wrong with that?

Anyway I know I'm pretty delluded about all this anyway, I mean let's face it, there are countless guys out there who are fitter, leaner and more defined than me. The only six pack I have is in the fridge. Although one thing I would say is I used to be larger than smahman, he was a keen runner, he actually said to me once "in our family it's so easy to keep the weight off, it's our duty not to have a great body" look at him now!

Seperately I was having a conversation with Gino at work, who has always kept himself in decent nick, I was telling him my natural mind state as a human is not one of a fitness freak, it's a mental workout to get me in the gym everytime I go, and I realise as I write this, the driving force that gets me there is my vanity. Shit.

Public Speakers

Just a quick one today. Almost every bus journey I now take in London is accompanied by an unwanted soundtrack. What I'm referring to is those little shits - yes it's always school kids or chavs - who insist on playing music through their mobile phones.

It's not particularly the music they're playing (you'd be hard pushed to identify the actual tune anyway), it's the complete unappreciation for sound reproduction. I work with sound every day and frankly I'm bit of a stickler for decent replication, not the tinny din they clearly think is 'the shit'.

I'd be interested in hearing from anyone with similar feelings, experiences. Maybe to form a gang and go and deck them, come on I'm well 'ard these days. Ask smahman to see the bruises!

"Ma 'ead 'urts"

Unusually not from a hangover though, although I was in the pub last night. I went to one of the most difficult pub quizzes I think I've ever been to last night.

Sample Question 1:
What is the current rate of inflation multiplied by the age of the earliest found sample of DNA?

Sample Question 2:
A recent archeological dig unearthed the largest neolithic village found in Great Britain. What is believed to have been the main trade of the villagers?

Need I say more?