I’m sure I should take a bit more time to write about the things that interest me, but for the time being I’m going to plod along with whatever enters my head – regardless of what type of post it’s going to be.

The great outdoors.. Oh, fuck off.

Today I was reminded of camping by the torrential downpour I was subjected to walking back to my brother’s house from the pub we had just had our Sunday lunch in.

I fucking loathe camping.

It’s customary for my friends and I to plan a camping trip over the summer months and whilst I do my best to enjoy it – this rarely lasts more than a day – I invariably find myself pondering the same question; what the fuck is the point? You find a place with the type of amenities that would shame a third world country, erect a tent that would barely withstand a cat passing wind 20 metres away and sit outside in the cold eating food covered in twigs and all kinds of shit whilst simultaneously fighting away an onslaught of flying critters. And you have tp pay for this supposed ‘pleasure’ – a pleasure that also goes hand-in-hand with having no fun, primarily because such a pursuit appears to have been outlawed at most campsites in the U.K by moaning individuals who have gone on holiday so they can be in bed by 9pm and can’t be disturbed by even the slightest noise.  My friends always enjoy camping, whilst I just feel obliged to go and have to spend the majority of the time thinking new and more believable excuses for me to leave. Utmost in my fury though is that there is always the same person there, the ‘outdoors-ie’ type – the kind of guy who feels he isn’t truly a man until he has conquered all mother nature has to offer.  If I thought I’d get away with it, I’d go next summer just to shoot him dead and bury him in a field the moment he suggest we all must climb a tree at 3am in the pitch dark.

I love the great outdoors as much as the next guy, but I’d sooner not waste my time sleeping in it when I have a perfectly comfortable bed at home where I don’t have to use my shoes as a fucking pillow. I’d rather go on holiday and enjoy myself, go out on the town or see the sights in a new place – that’s fun, and you also have the added bonus of having a nice room to go back to.

They say that you learn something new every day.

I though I’d make my update today a case of sharing with my regulars (feels kind of good to say that – for the first time in 3 years of blogging there is actually a group of people who regularly stop by) a few of the choice things from my life’s experiences that I consider to be written in tablets of stone. I’m not one for rules or the constraints of acceptable social behaviour, but even someone as motor-mouthed as I can be must concede that there are certain extents to which you do not go. Well, it really all depends on your company.  Over the past few years I’ve developed a sense of humour for the way things are phrased, said or done. I do tend to laugh at some utterly retarded things more often than not, but hey.. the world would be one boring-ass place if we all were the same.

Here’s a few facts:

• The word ‘Vagina’ should never be preceded by either the word ‘oozing’ or ’seeping’
• Sending E-Mails from your friends work account to higher members of the establishment asking for soothing ointment for nipple rash will only get you into trouble.
• Never explain what ‘Tea-bagging’ means to an office that consists primarily of women.
• Some people were born without a sense of humour. Learn who they are before making fun of them
• Do not discuss in great depth the consistency of the cat vomit you discovered at home whilst people are enjoying their lunch.
• Only make jokes if you can take them back.
• Quoting the line “They mostly come at night… mostly” from the film, ‘Aliens’ is always funny.
• Stories about ‘danger-wanks’ are always funny.
• Racist jokes are never funny.
• Shockingly offensive pelvic gyrating dance moves during an elderly persons wedding are always funny.
• The word ‘cake’, whilst seemingly innocuous, is always funny. This rule applies to the word ‘jam’ – Eddie Izzard is to blame for such hilarity.
• Don’t ever look at porn at work. Ever.
• Putting chilli sauce into someone’s tea and seeing it make them shit so badly their arse bled is bloody funny, even if they think it’s not.
• Professionalism is fucking annoying and boring.
• Never grow up. Ever

Those are just a few of my silly little facts. Hope you enjoy them. One last thing; for those of you who enjoyed the last song I posted, here’s my personal favourite by ‘Pryda’ – the brilliant, Odyssey;

Delicate Flower’s site has the post ‘Without thinking too much’  and it’s basically a list of things that define you. She borrowed the idea herself from a blogging friend and I wanted to have a shot at it myself. I thought it really was a good idea (the credit for the idea should go to the two I mentioned as I would of thought of something far more idiotic had the idea popped into my head) so I gave it a moments thought and jusy fired out my answers as quickly as they came to me. 

Here’s the results:

Saying no to:

Smoking

Bickering

Saying yes to:

Watching movies until late

Dancing

Laughing at the most inane of things

Giddy about:

Penelope Cruz

Autumn

Electronica

Scared of:

Spiders

Women with big hands

Depression

Inspired by:

Thomas Bangalter

Cinema

My Mother

Obsessed about:

Films

Music

The perfect practical joke

In love with:

Uncertainty

Those moments of inner-peace

The still of the night

Haunted by:

Irreversible (Gaspar Noe’s film)

My Father’s death

Regret

Saved by:

Imagination

Love

Friends

Some days at work have me at the point of drooling madness. The vast majority of the time I manage to walk around with my head in the clouds totally oblivious to my surroundings. But today I felt like I could of quite happily set the place ablaze and watched the towering inferno that would ensue from a nice little vantage point I’d picked out for myself beforehand, all of which would have been done with a content smile upon my face.

Luckily enough for the owners of my workplace (and the people within) I had the foresight to bring my sweet salvation with me; – music. I am a bit of a dork in quite a few respects and especially so when it comes to both music and film. I love electronica and I find it really relaxing. Now, those of you that are not dance music enthusiasts will no doubt point to its repetitive beats as a source of great irritation, but it has a sort of metronome effect on me and calms my down when I find my usually cool exterior being compromised by the rage brewing underneath.

So I thought I’d post a little example of what I mean. Here’s ‘Balaton’ by Pryda – the song that saved a workplace in Bristol from going up in flames.

When I’d finished writing my recent post about life in the office and I’d shut my laptop off, the conversation took a wild swerve away from the typically monotonous and headed towards the concept of love everlasting and soul mates. The office is mixed bunch of guys and girls and I all the people in there at the time agreed that they believe in such a concept. All except one… me.

Of course, for my opinions I was branded as a bitter, cold-hearted so-and-so, but it’s an opinion that I’ll stand by until I see some cast-iron fact that will back it up in any way, shape or form – something that very few people with whom I debate this point are actually able to produce.

"No, Billy-Bob was never my soul mate. You are."

I do believe in love. I do believe that there are people out there to whom you are suited and compatible. What I don’t believe is that there is one special human being out there in the vast, sprawling metropolis we call planet Earth that has been created just for you by a higher power and is your soul mate. Such a thing is just absurd.  I also believe that the person they all describe (their current ’squeezes’ at the time) is no more their perfect match than any of the millions upon millions of people that they have not and will never meet. It seems to me some people need to project upon others their relationship as faultless and wonderful so they just might be able to believe it themselves.

Circumstance dictates current partners in a way.

Think about it. Lets say you’re an average guy of 40 who has had 6 serious relationships – the 5 that came first ended and you married the 6th. Why? Is the 6th person your soul mates or is it a simple case of her being the person that came along at the correct time when you felt marriage was a viable option? Would you have felt the same way about any of the girls that preceded her had they come in a different order?

I’m not sure.

What I do know for certain is that to say there is one person out there who is perfect for you is utterly ridiculous. It’s total mathematical certitude that there is an abundance of people on the planet who are more suitable for you than the person you are currently in relations with. That cannot be disputed yet as people we are so blinded to that fact by a belief in something we just simply want to believe is true. Maybe getting into my thirties has turned me from naive day-dreamer to hard-nosed cynic and there is a lot of truth to that. The thing is I do like the concept of romantic love and the notion of soul mates. It’s just a shame that I know it’s not true.

I’m having a bit of trouble getting online at the present – my home connection is fucked so I occasionally have a qucik snoop using a PC at work, but this doesn’t afford me the time to post amything considerable or comment in any depth.

It sucks.

I hope to be back in full-flow before long, so bare with me until then and excuse the crappy one-line comments and short posts.

I shall return.

I’m sat in the sales office at work at present and the thing that’s occurred to me more than anything is that for the majority of the time it’s the most vapid and tiresome of atmospheres. For hours on end people sit at their desks rapidly typing away without saying a word to close-by associates and colleagues. The monotony is only broken by phone calls., in which case they just talk loudly over one another to the person on the other end of the line. 

Working in a kitchen invariably goes hand-in-hand with variety – you rarely find yourself doing the same thing twice and the only real regularity you encounter are the times of service. The best thing about the enviroment I work is the rapport and banter you share with people – there’s a real bonding in the process of ripping somebody to shreds in the name of a good joke. 

Good times.

“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.”

I have a huge problem with authority figures of a certain persuasion.

I probably have a bit of a problem with all authority to be honest, but there is a select type more so than any of the others that really just aggravate me beyond the realms of comprehension.  The kind I’m talking are very much the pretentious ones.

There is a certain individual in my work place (I’m stealing your ideas, DiF) that epitomizes this. I won’t mention his name or position. The problem I have is that he is all talk and little or no action to back up his claims. He at times claims to be the rock of which the entire place is based upon, but the harsh reality is  the guy’s a brainless chancer who does nothing more than use false claims and stories of supposed past achievements to perpetuate his image.

Worse of all he is a boss who gets bossed about by his select little crowd of associates. He maybe be higher in the chain of command, but every move he makes is dictated to him by these people. He allows them to rule the roost and backs them firmly regardless of any indiscretion, yet allows them to carry on with of  other varying degrees of misbehavior unpunished and without any fear of reprimand.. Basically it’s another case of groups only this time the one person who should remain impartial and professional is unable to do so on account of dipping his wick in the company pay-roll. Arrogance is an ugly trait in anyone as far I’m concerned, it’s made exponentially worse when you add adultery and ego into the mixture.

In short, the person in question is a philandering turd with the people skills of a Badger’s recently pulped and now rotting corpse after a nasty collision with on-coming traffic.

Just a little rant today. Feels good to vent and gets things off your chest.

An accurate representation of today.

Today I’ve bought my Laptop into work to sponge off the internet connection here – mine at home has began playing up and I can’t get a decent connection, instead all I get is pure rage and an urge to destroy something for no reason. I’m having one of those days were I don’t much feel like doing anything at all at the present time. For those of you that may not know for a living I’m a Chef (Sous Chef – I’m the second in command) and it’s quiet as a mouse with a gagged mouth where I work. Normally I’m be running about the place like a blue-arsed fly, but I’m sat on my arse having a bit of a ponder. I’m also helping myself to the many sumptuous treats that lie about the maze of store areas and enjoying a well-earned cup of Tea. That’s the perks of this job, my friends.

Once I finished eating into company profits and stuffing my face I got to wondering what those of you that pop by here do for a living? I assume you all have jobs and are not full-time bloggers – you’re lucky bastards if you are.

Feel free to share!