Oh, woh-uh-oh, woh-uh-oh, Mysterious Girl....

What follows is a detailed description of the rather odd events surrounding the time after I got home from work yesterday.....

So I got home from work last night and my house mate told me that some strange blonde-girl was waiting for me upstairs. Initially I was a little excited, after all, this sort of thing doesn't happen to me (contrary to what some of you may be thinking!) despite my obvious charm and wit... So cautiously I climbed the stairs, only to be confronted by a sight that chilled me to the very core of my soul. Stood outside my bedroom door, in a litle pink dress was none-other than............

PARIS HILTON!

O.k. so it wasn't exactly the real, living-flesh Paris Hilton, but none-other than a cardboard cut-out of said bimbo. To be honest I wasn't really sure what to do with her. In my opinion (as anyone who has read my previous posts will understand) I find her one of the most vaccuously cretinous air-heads that this planet has ever deemed fit to survive birth. The whole thing about IT-Girls fills me with a burning rage, the like of which is akin to that fella in "Something about Mary" who went nuts when his ear-phones were taken off. At the moment i'm in two minds as to whether I should sacrafice her in some manic pagan-ritual by burning her on the beach and revelling in her ashes (I fear this may get me a long holiday in a psychiatric ward). Or I could sell her on E-bay (the profit idea is looking to be a favourite at the mo), but for the time being she is stood in the corner of my room. Now most of the lads out there are probably already on the verge of logging off because of my comments so i'm going to find it very hard to see my next point....
This morning I awoke in a bit of a tired daze, and the first thing I saw in the gloom of my room was that she-devil peering down at me from the corner of my room. I tell you, I almost evacuated my bowels all over the bed, which is not exactly what Oasis had in mind when they sang "What's the Story, Morning Glory". So in light of this I have decided to put a big hat over her face, and drape a few ties round her neck in a vain attempt to shroud her from my eyes. If she was brunette things might have been different, but I am now resigned to the fact that i'll probably end up using her as some sort of punch-bag.

On A Lighter Note:
Several things in the news have kept me amused these past few weeks. Firstly there is the story of the guy who has been cycling round the world for the past 40 years. After all this time he decides to visit our blessed shores, and so he arrives in Portsmouth one spring morning. So what kind of example of good ol' British hospitality does he get? Yep, within minutes of stepping off the boat some chav half-inches his bike. Quality. Only the best welcome from Blighty, eh?
Personally I think it was some kind of revenge act by a daring group of Militant Cycle-offiandos after this story emerged last year:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/devon/3720224.stm

So as you can see there is a a cycle-war being raged across the globe, and none of us were aware of it! I think this conflict needs to be brought to the attention of the common man so that we may better understand the plight of those locked into this bitter struggle.

Adios amigos....

Good / Evil

So apparently my blog site is 62% Good:



and only 38% Evil:



So I guess I just need to work harder on the old Evilness, eh?

Nobody F*cks with the Jesus!

Righty-ho, I have decided to bow to the pressure and update my blog before the constant baying for news makes my ear-drums pop like a 14 year-old boy at a wet-tee-shirt competition. Once again it is my work-life which is taking the fore-front and will therefore take a verbal battering in the following section. (O.k. so technically it isn't verbal if it's written is it? Damnit i'm so pedantic I even argue with myself!)

So, work update:

* I didn't get the dream job I was hoping for, but at least the fact that I went through to the second round, so-to-speak, gave me a bit of gumption to look further.

* I have been forced at Biro-point to divide my allegiances between Mortgage Direct and Investments Direct. From my point of view this is only because the annual statements are due to be produced so the normally busy phone lines will go mental, and they need an extra monkey to help out.

To be honest I was a little pissed off about this at first because I didn't really want to start having to learn new processes and-the-like, but i'm getting used to it, and as I have no choice, it's a case of put-up or shut-up.

(You may have noticed that my preferred punctutaion symbol today is the hyphen, I have already used it a mere 12 times already. From now on I may make this an interesting aside to my blog; Mort's punctuation mark of the day! You're all right, I am quite sad aren't I?)

Sooooo.......

The Bank holiday weekend passed without too much drama. I was meant o be going camping on Sunday but C had to cancel (For very good reasons though) so instead I decided to treat myself to another rare beer session. Incidentally I REALLY need to start going out a little more regularly as my hang-overs are getting worse...more on this later....
So Sunday started with another Mammoth Grudge-football match. The season kicked off for me and my pals the other week when we hammered out mate's team in the first game of the season. (We've been playing these regular summer-sunday games for 3 years now) As I may have mentioned before, this is always wicked as the guys we play against have far more natural talent available, whereas we always put in the gutsy performances and seem to work better as a team. Plus they are all quite big-headed so it's ace when we stuff them, which is what we id this weekend, beating them 20-19, although we were 20-16 up at one point and wasted countless easy chances. (Is it me or have I gone all Sporty on you all, stop me if I bore you...!)
After the match I went home to get ready before meeting my mates down the pub at 3pm to start the days's drinking. After many-many beers and a few games of killer* we started staggering up the valley and into town where we had great amusment entertaining my mate Rob's dog Gino. The poor mutt had been kept on a lead all throughout the day as we were in pubs, but now he was in his element as we threw massive logs which he attempted to drag back to us. At this point he decided to try and commit suicide by launching himself across the road, right in front of an on coming car, apparently he'd seen a plastic bag on the other side which was too good to miss....cue 10 very drunk 20-somethings, all with looks of absolute horror on their faces chorusing "Noooooo" like a slow-mo from an action film, as the poor animal almost became roadkill.
The rest of the night is a bit of a blur to be honest, but I do remember being in a club at one point.....!

So. That's it, my life up-to-date. Be safe in the knowledge that the next entry will be my usual rambling list of shambolic complaints, but I will leave you with a new feature;
Larvae of the week!

This week, I am pleased to inroduce you all to one of my favourite insect larvae, the Leather-Jacket. Larvae of the Crane-fly (or Daddy Long-legs, see more hyphens) this creature is the bane of keen-gardeners everywhere. So let's not keep you waiting any longer, here he is, the Leather-Jacket:



Next week: No 2. in our series, The Tsetse Fly!


* For those that don't know it's where loads of people put in £1 each and take it in turn to pot a ball on the pool table, if you miss you lose a life and you only have 3 lives, last man standing takes the pot.