Monthly Archives: May 2008

I’m still a guy….

Sorry I’ve not been about, recently, I’ve been very busy doing nothing at all. Heard this song on the radio this afternoon and it very nearly makes me feel that I shouldn’t shave my beard off….

I’m still a guy

When you see a deer you see Bambi
And I see antlers up on the wall
When you see a lake you think picnics
And I see a large mouth up under that log
You’re probably thinking that you’re going to change me
In some ways well maybe you might
Scrub me down, dress me up oh but no matter what
remember I’m still a guy

When you see a priceless French painting
I see a drunk, naked girl
You think that riding a wild bull sounds crazy
And I’d like to give it a whirl
Well love makes a man do some things he ain’t proud of
And in a weak moment I might walk your sissy dog, hold your purse at the mall
But remember, I’m still a guy

I’ll pour out my heart
Hold your hand in the car
Write a love song that makes you cry
Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground
‘Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

I can hear you now talking to your friends
Saying, “Yeah girls he’s come a long way”
From dragging his knuckles and carrying a club
And building a fire in a cave
But when you say a backrub means only a backrub
Then you swat my hand when I try
Well, now what can I say at the end of the day
Honey, I’m still a guy

And I’ll pour out my heart
Hold your hand in the car
Write a love song that makes you cry
Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground
‘Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

These days there’s dudes getting facials
Manicured, waxed and botoxed
With deep spray-on tans and creamy lotiony hands
You can’t grip a tacklebox

Yeah with all of these men lining up to get neutered
It’s hip now to be feminized
I don’t highlight my hair
I’ve still got a pair
Yeah honey, I’m still a guy

Oh my eyebrows ain’t plucked
There’s a gun in my truck
Oh thank God, I’m still a guy

Brad Paisley

Awoken with a bang…….

Last night there was a little bit of rain about, you may have noticed if you happened to live in…. well, most of Britain by the looks of it. Of course, rain brings with it all sorts of problems, especially out on the road. It can get slippery.

When that happens, things can go wrong…




Remember to drive safe in this weather now!!

It is better to recieve than to give…..

…. no wait, it’s the other way round isn’t it?? Oh well, it’s the thought that counts!!

I have a conundrum. In a few weeks it shall be my birthday and subsequently my parents have started asking me what I would like. I do not know the answer to this question and it annoys my mum every year. Actually, twice a year because Christmas brings forth the same question.

I have managed to make a list of a travel mug and the Haynes manual for my car, which are both practical things that I’ll make use of.

Just trying to think if there’s anything else that I could ask for.

Not that I think that sometimes society sucks….

…but sometimes it really, really does.

However, being a free country there’s not a lot I can really do about it but do my best and hope that other follow my lead as opposed to the lead of others with a lesser reputation. Like the ugliest lady in pop, Amy Winedrinker. Apparently she came second in a poll looking a idols for young people, losing out to only Wayne Rooney…

Though in all fairness to Miss Winedrinker I feel that all this is not so much her fault as that of the trash-media that follow her around everyday, taking the photos that show her (and others) in various states that can simply be described as “a state.”

Another example is the trash-media’s way of suggesting that appearing normal is some way wrong. In a bid to pander to a certain demographic I’m going to include a picture of a girl in a bikini. I appologise to those who might be thinking that I’m dropping to their level, but if you skip on I am using it to make a point.



For those who would like to know why I’ve included this picture, it’s because it appeared in yesterday’s copy of The Metro ( a free newspaper at all train stations) with the following caption; ‘Britney Spears bares her bulging belly while holidaying in Costa Rica.

Hands up here who would honestly put the phrase “bulging belly” next to that photo?? I shan’t even mention the “Baby on board?” question that titled the photo caption.

Now if Britney here is in possession of a bulging belly I would hate to think would they would say to a photo of someone like me (who is a tad more rotund) splashing about in the sea wearing a bikini…. a slight pause as you try to remove that image…. but I think you get my point.

Actually, I do feel slightly sympathetic towards Britney (unlike my feelings towards Miss Winedrinker). I suspect that she really did become a really big, international superstar so quickly, a whole bunch of bad advice, not the best of friends and the trash-media have thrown her off keel. I very nearly titled this post; ‘Isn’t she lucky….???‘ but after reading even more trash-talk in todays paper I decided to make this post a bit more general, rather than just about Britney.

It is nice to see her looking happy though.

Choices, choices……

One of the things I’ve discovered is that the West End isn’t really that far away. This means that all those shows that can be found in the West End that I’d really quite like to see have one less reason for me not to go see them… well, apart from not being able to chose!!

After all, out of the fifty or so shows that are on in the West End there are about a dozen I’d quite like to see, including:
Avenue Q,
Blood Brothers,
Les Mis,
The 39 Step,
The Mousetrap,
The Sound of Music,



A regular day generally works along the lines of:

Get up,
Go to work,
Get home,
Spend a few hours doing stuff,
Go to bed.

At the moment my day works more like this:

Get up,
Spend a few hours doing stuff,
Go to work,
Get home,
Go to bed.

Today in my “doing stuff” I decided to give my car a clean. (!!) Cleaned out the inside, washed down the outside. Started giving it a wax but got bored. On the other hand I now know what kids are for. “Here’s a fiver, go clean the car. And don’t forget to wax!!” As long as you breed them tall enough to reach the roof!!

Just bloody……

Bloody bendy-buses, bloody drunks* and bloody physists who really don’t know what they’re talking about.

And now I’ve got that off my chest I can go get a few hours kip before I go see the doctor.

*For those of a nervous dispostition I should point out that at no time was there actual blood involved with either the bendy-buses or the drunks. Just incase you were worried that there might have been, what the police call, “an incident.

Off to work, again….

miss tickle – I still reckon you’re a work-shy tax vacuum.

Of course you do dearie and I would write more but I’m off to work. Or I would be if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m so work-shy!!! :p

Speaking of which, it’s surprisenly busy on Piccadilly at two in the morning… though I should appologise to the two people who were sent not quite the right way to Victoria Station. We didn’t know the way then and so guessed!!

It’s not really a lie-in….

Just though I should mention that I have only really just gotten up. And before everyone starts, it’s not a lie-in, oh no, because I’m working nights for at least the rest of the week and therefore, if anything, I’ve gotten up early!!

Remembering everything but the person…..

Just to be difficult I’m trying to remember a conversation that I had recently… problem is, I can’t remember with whom I was having this conversation.

For those who might be interested (I suppose there might be some) we were talking about at what point in your life you switch from being a boy/girl into a man/woman?? Is there a point??

I know that there are some terms such as boy/girlfriend that you would always say, opposed to wo/manfriend, but at the same time once you hit pensioner years you are very rarely refered to in terms that remind people of little ones in long socks and shorts!!

Maybe there is a certain event after which one should be refered to in more mature terms… being married, kids, own house maybe?? Most “boys” aren’t aged thirty-five and own their own house after all!!

I like to think that it’s more a state of mind, you are as young as you feel that is. There will always be a part of me that is only aged eleven, that loves kicking piles of leaves, eating jelly and building sandcastles. Where a good day is one that involves icecream (make mine a ’99) and maybe even a hotdog!!

Mmmmmm, hotdogs…..

Miss Tickle – for a real person it takes about eighteen months to do an MPhil, so graduating in two years, though in my case there were special circumstances including submitting OVER TWO YEARS ago. However, as anyone who has ever read Piled High and Deeper will know, graduating is not the goal of doing any sort of postgraduate work (Ohhh, now I tell you).