Category: old blogging

This morning I went into the shop in Lake Lane in Barnham to pick up a newspaper. As I went in the door, Mrs Sobti, the lady of the establishment, was having a conversation with an older male customer:

• Male Customer – I think he’s a worried man!
• Mrs. Sobti – He is. I think that we should have the women in charge of the country. If women were running things, then everything would be much better. Just you see! Mark my words!
• Me (interfering as usual) – We don’t want that! Look what happened with the last woman we had in charge!
• Mrs S. – Yes, but she did lots of good things whilst she was in power. 55 pence please.
• MC – You might have a point. We should put the WI in charge. They had the pants off him!
• Mrs S. – The WI?
• MC – Yes. Remember he went to speak to them? They had his pants off in five minutes!
• Mrs S. (neatly steering the conversation away from pants) – Five pence change. He does seem a worried man though.
• MC – Yes. I think he’ll end up having a stroke!
• Mrs S. – Or going the same way as Kelly.
• MC – hmm.
• Me – thanks! bye! (thought it best to leave at this point!)

Corner shop politics. Better than bar room discussion any day.

As if by magic, this afternoon some flyers were put through my letterbox inviting me to get a quotation for timber framed sash windows. How handy!
Don’t think I’ll follow it up though. Especially as Dave might take offence if I were to say what company was behind the offer.

It’s awfully quiet around here.
Send me email! Leave comments! Call me! GIVE ME ATTENTION! FEED MY EGO!

ahem.

So, I needed some bits and pieces for my laptop so I could enjoy connectivity whilst in the US. Having shopped around, I ordered them from Dell, as they were cheaper even than dabs.com. I fly on Saturday. Today I find that expected delivery date is next Monday. guh.
So it looks like I’ll have to get at least the basics locally, a US/UK electricity adapter and a RJ-11 to RJ-11 cable.

I’ve got a bit of a headache and I’m stiff and in need of a massage. These are signs that I’ve had too much to drink over the weekend and that I’m a bit stressed out.
It’s strange. I was pretty much convinced that everything was going to work out this year. So far, it’s gone steamingly well. In fact, I think that, apart from my personal life, everything has been good this year. If I could just fix that element of life, then everything would be fantastic. Maybe I try too hard?

Meg, formerly of notsosoft fame, has begun a new site here.

Beer tonight with Paul F, Arron and Nikki. Also heard was Russell from Maximum High doing his acoustic Paul Weller set in W2, but since you could barely get in the door, I decided not to stay.

Global House Connection. Broadcasting, live, until 9pm. It’s very good, you know.
And it is archived, so you can listen later too.

Cat Death Auto. Lord Percy is going to love this one.

Sitting in Priory Park, enjoying the sun and the view and watching people going about their Sunday afternoon activities from the vantage point of my favourite bench atop the wall at the south east corner of the park, a small child, no more than four or five, scampered up nearby. I’d seen him playing with a couple, who were either older siblings or his very young parents, who were sat in the centre of the cricket pitch, eyeing him lazily through their sunglasses. The child stood there, took off his sandals whilst muttering under his breath, and threw them down the embankment onto the floor of the park. He then said "This way!" before scuffling along the footway along the top of the wall, barefoot, muttering "ooh, eeh, aaah, oohh" as he made his way along the hot tarmac.
Across the park came the shouted command: "Alistair! Pick your shoes up or else!"
Good luck, kid.