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Well apparently Average Jane's got a Runcible spoon, so I thought I'd post what began it all.
I |
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea |
| II |
Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl! |
| III |
'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Of course, it was Lear who concieved the Limerick and |
This morning, I was up early, because I said I'd go and mend Tim's computer and I agreed I'd meet McBark at the surgery to discuss something. Got into the car and noticed the blower wasn't working to clear the misty windows. Then I noticed on the posh display that tells you what temperature you chose, the word SERVICE.
Surely Renault don't design the things that when they need checking over, they just shut down altogether, no fan, no heat...
McBark was my first call. Within seconds of saying Good Morning, I could see he'd got a bee under his kilt, giving me a hard time over something that was not to do with me. What annoyed me further, was he kept on at it, so I growled back, reminding him that despite all my problems this week, I have still made a lot of time to help him. He listened and backed off, which was fortunate, as I was in no mood for shenanigans.
I've since, reviewed a server based system he's working on and severely critiqued shortcomings which are adversely affecting the outcome of what he is trying to achieve. As it is a highly paid and professional outfit who are responsible for the development, I've suggested he bark at them instead of me. It also doesn't help when you issue a brief, then you change minor things after the event.
I managed to fix Tim's computer which at least reassured me that I'm not the failure McBark was suggesting, but I returned home in no mood for any more nonsense, where I have remained for the rest of the day.
In the main, I am a very easy going person and I will do anything in my power to help anyone who needs help. Sometimes though, people just try to pull chunks off me and I have to just put the situation back into perspective. I'm giving MY time, Using MY petrol and MY experience to deal with THEIR problems.
Today it was time to remind someone to take stock of that. I hate doing it, but the only other alternative would have been to kill him.
At least my critique will show him objectively that HIS system needs work and I might get some peace at least until Tuesday.
Poor Charlie Chalk's system is in meltdown and the poor lad's been too scared to ask, for fear of getting some of the venom I'd spat at McBark. I think I may just put up sign CLOSED TIL NEW YEAR.
And yes, I know McBark, that proof read only has 2 O's in, it was a joke !
Isn't it funny how things that happen to you as a small child get deep ingrained into your phsyche?
I remember how when I was very small, the teacher read us the Owl and the Pussycat. As she worked her way through, she paused to explain things. When she got to they dined on mince and slices of Quince, she said that Quince was "made up" as was Runcible spoon.
This just goes to prove you can't trust all a teacher tells you, because Quince is a plant which bears fruit like apples. So the Owl and the Pussycat would have dined on slices of Quince and as for the Runcible spoon, I've got one for when I am making curry, haven't you ?
I've had to wait 24 hours before posting this, so I'd be calm enough to report it without each paragraph being larded with expletives. You see, I want to spare the blushes of my nice lady readers, Millie, Molly and Jane.
Last week, the Employment Services people signed me up to go see a "resource management" company, to allegedly give me a little extra help in finding work.
I'd no objection to this for example, my cv is OK, but I'm sure it could be better, so objective advice is welcome. I also reckon, that using a bit of brain power is the way to future employment.
For example, what's the use of retraining as say a train driver or a chef, if there's 50 people ahead of you in the queue for the train driver or chef's job ? Surely, to identify where there are shortages in the jobs market and train towards something where there is a need for employees is the way to go ?
Surely the Employment Services are specialist in the employment market, they will see trends and downturns in certain sectors of the market and be able to guide and advise the unemployed?
It appears not. I turned up at this centre yesterday. Assembled round the entrance to the building were a load of hoodies smoking, standing in a mound of discarded butt ends. Makes a great first impression.
I told the receptionist who I was and she just ignored me but ticked her list. Then I was rounded up with a half dozen others lurking in the corridor and marched upstairs to a classroom. I was puzzled because I was expecting some one on one counselling, but found my self being inducted to a 13 week course to include writing a cv, using the telephone and using the internet to look for a job.
To say the class was one of mixed abilities is borderline sarcastic. A woman on the course kept interrupting whilst filling out her induction form. "What's marital status mean", "How do you spell SINGLE" ? When the course tutor asked if anyone had any health problems the woman piped up "Me boyfriend's got back ache".
As each minute ticked painfully by, the tutor could see I was getting more and more irritated, probably signalled by the fact my eyes were closed and I was shaking my head in disbelief.
I decided to grab the bull by the horns and told her that this was not what I was expecting from the morning and how I expected to be in a meeting with one person. Also I had paid for 2 hours parking which ran out at 11:15 from when I was carrying on to an appointment. The man next to me indicated he had similar ideas.
We did spelling tests and rithmatic tests based on the price of bags of crisps. By 11:15 I had made up my mind that I would go stand naked in Woolworth's window, before I would spend the next 13 weeks of my life slopping around in a gene pool greatly in need of an infusion of chlorine.
To blot out the banal comments of the female cretin opposite me, I'd already drafted most of my letter to the Employment Services people.
When I left the place, I was in a mood to kill and stupidly continued with my plan to drive down into the town and pop to Marks and Spencer. Regulars here will know that I rarely venture into Walsall, but I was tempted by Marks and Spencer's toad in the hole, which is the best ready made T in the H I've ever tried. The sausages are terrific.
Parking in the multi storey was the pits. Some woman in front of me nearly took the side out of her car taking one of the bends too tightly and too close to the barrier. Then in M&S, it must have been pension day down the post office, as the place was crawling with blue rinsers and worse, old people on these mobility scooter things. Unbelievable, the DVLA take their licences off them and let them loose on the pavements and in the stores with those things. At one point, I was in a lift with about 4 other people. The doors opened and two of these scooters were jostling for position to try and get in with us. Fortunately, we were going up and they wanted to go down. Tough titty eh ?
Even though I had my toad in the hole, the M&S retail experience did nothing for my mood. I was planning to come home and do a little favour for McBark, but I was in no fit mental state for that. I decided to go sulk in the pub and make a few phone calls telling my pals of my disbelief.
Just as I thought the day couldn't get any worse, it did. When I got home, I opened the mail and read that my unemployment pay had been stopped. This was because they only pay so many days on contribution based support (taxes from your previous job) and this had passed.
I called the office and quizzed them on why the letter said nothing about what you should do as an individual. "You should have had a letter" I was told. Well, I hadn't had a letter and so this kicks off a whole series of things I now have to do to get my Jobseeker's Allowance back. Fortunately, I dealt with a very positive and helpful guy in town this morning.
Whilst I was on the phone to the office yesterday, I decided to also quiz my "advisor" whom I saw last week for a periodic review, the very same person who "advised" me to the "resource centre".
I asked why she didn't brief me on something important like my JSA payment running out, but was so eager to pack me off to a classroom, where the only thing that was missing was the wax crayons and straitjackets.
Much backpedalling but no real answers later I did extract from her that if I felt "that way" about the training programme, I didn't have to go back (and neither will I be undressing in Woolies window).
OBC called me in the afternoon and I told him my tale of woe beautifully punctuated with Anglo Saxon. When I'd finished, he calmly announced that Mrs. OBC and Mrs. OBC's mum were with him and I was on loudspeaker ! So I hear, Val had to explain to Lou the meanings of several words she'd never heard before.
The upshot of my JSA suspension is that bills such as my monthly payment to the gas company won't go out this week, so that will set off the usual stream of "if you don't pay we'll come and piss through your letterbox" letters. I tried calling earlier and gave up for the time I was on hold.
I'm a lot calmer today, but I look back on the week and think, what a load of shite !
There. OBC will be proud of me managing to post the whole story without chucking Teddy "Mohammed" 
out the pram once.
Pleased to say that my petrol tank is now lashed back into place on the car, though it was discovered that one of the retaining bolts on one strap had snapped, so it only has one strap holiding it. I'm assured it is safe.
Not heard much from Charlie Chalk today, because his mobile battery is almost flat and he's bost his charger. He's also managed to screw up his printer which is no longer being recognised by Windows Vista. I've dispensed some advice and hope it does the trick.
I was pretty amazed to learn he's put his Christmas tree up today. It's still bloody November. Mind you, I treated myself to a Poinsettia in Asda today, it was reduced because it was a bit ropy, but I reckon I can perk it up.
In his weak defence, Charlie Chalk said "Well Darlo's had hers up for ages", he told me. That worries me even more.
Perhaps when I am in Asda on Saturday morning, I had best look out for some Easter eggs !
So I found out what was broken on the car. It wasn't an anti-roll bar, it was the "thing" that holds the petrol tank in place. Once it was diagnosed by the intrepid Wiggy, I hotfooted it off to "Just Renaults" for one of these "things" . The guy on the phone asked "D'ya want the big one or the small un" ?
I had no idea, so decided to go and let him identify what was needed. It turned out to be BOTH straps that hold the fuel tank in place, so what exactly is holding it in place at the moment is a bit of a mystery.
Two somewhat rusty replacements from "Just Renaults" cost twenty quid. Next taks, find someone to fit em at a non-extortionate price.
I spent a fair few years in the motor trade, but as I didn't really like anyone, I never kept in touch. Struck out with several phone calls and one visit to someone who was now out of business.
I popped in on one bunch of blokes who I do like but haven't seen in a while. They do tyres and all I was looking for was a point in the right direction for someone who might be able to strap a petrol tank back into place.
Dave the man went into the back and told me to go back tomorrow at one o clock, so I live in hope. I daren't drive any unnecessary miles, because I have visions of the tank (plastic) falling off and being trapped under the car as I drive along before finally rupturing, petrol vapour escaping on to the nearby exhaust which is very hot and leading to the final few frames of Dirty Mary and Crazy Larry Aarghh ! (Not familiar with the movie, see more here) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071424/
On my way back home, I had to pass Beacon Tone's factory. The same Beacon Tone who I've called many times over the past few months and even sent a jolly birthday e mail to last week, as he shares a birthday with OBC, none of which received a response.
Once buzzed in to reception I asked to see Tone. When asked what my business was, I told the receptionist "He owes me money"
She seemed used to such a statement and called the man down to reception. There was an audible sigh of relief when he realised it was a spoof.
Cajolled into breaking my zero alcohol "lose some fat" regime, I met up with him and Ken the stamp man (famous for touching up Prince WIlliam one Christmas) in the White Lion pub just up the road.
Not been in there for a couple of years, when the plaster was hanging off the walls and the very long wall seat in the bar was only useable for a third of its length, having been slashed and hacked by the local arseholes.
The seating is now pristine and walls rendered.
I saw Ken and his new i Phone. I've only seen the TV commercial and the online blurb and none of that did much for me than bolster me fellings about Mac users which is far from positive.
A physical demonstration changed my atittude to the gadget if not the general Mac tosser. In fact, it's better than anything you see on telly.
Ken demonstrated to me, by showing me these very pages and how you can resize the text and the pictures to suit, all through this touch sensitive large (for a phone) screen. It was impressive and yes, if I wasn't an old fat lump of welfare trash with a saggy petrol tank, I would have one !
Believe me, mobile phones don't excite me that much, but the i Phone has got a lot of design as well as function built in.
I shall rest a bit easier when I know that bloody petrol tank isn't hanging on to the rest of the car by something as daft as the filler neck. Once it's fixed I can then worry about what is next to drop off.
I tend to keep most of my misfortune off these pages for fear it turns into the most depressing journal on the internet. Trouble with the Council, a large electricity bill and a couple of other things clouded my week.
Yesterday, I discovered that what I believe to be an anti roll bar on the back of the car has either snapped or come adrift and is hanging down under the car just touching the road.
My brother told me it was nothing too much to worry about, but it does need tying up and I have niether the resource to do it or the money to get it done. I asked OBC if he might have someone with a forklift and the wherewithal to wire the damned thing up out of the way.
He reminded me that he personally is a bit too old for crawling under cars these days, but I live in hope one of those fine fellows at the factory are up for a challenge on Monday. Go Wiggy !
Went to bed in a mood last night, mood was worsened around 3am by braying yobs in the street. Woke up in time to go off and see Bob the Butcher to find the knuckle of the index finger on my left hand swollen and incredibly painful, I can't bend it, that's for sure. It was fine when I went to bed, so God only knows what has caused that, sleepwalking possibly ?
I thought I had shaken my cold and yet I got up this morning coughing and spluttering so generally on this grey, frreezing Saturday morning with a month to go to Christmas, I'm in a bad mood.
Maybe I should go back to bed and sleep the mood and the cold off ?
As well as being Thanksgiving for the Americans, it's also OBC's birthday today. I won't say how old he is, but he's not quite earned his free bus pass yet.
It's also Beacon Tone's birthday, the late bill the Wag's and the anniversary of the assassination of JFK.
It's also bloody cold to be working at my keyboard, I think I shall have to get me some of those gloves with the fingers cut out, like Mr. Smallweed from Bleak House (shake me up Judy).
I checked in with OBC and he's had a birthday brekky of beans on toast and he's off to a restaurant tonight.
When I saw Wally the Welder in the local paper with his bloody bluebells a while back, I have to confess it made me heady for the limelight like I enjoyed when I went on the telly on What's my Line.
I noticed the same newspaper who brought fame to a very obscure bruiser from Wolverhampton, was featuring a competition to win an I pod Shuffle by submitting a review of their car, no matter the age.
I truly have only one problem with the Renault and that's the price of petrol to run it. So, I wrote about it and filed the story and it's been published this morning.
Here's the link http://www.expressandstar.com/2007/11/22/only-downside-is-petrol-prices/
Now, if I win the I Pod, my only worry will be affording some shuffles (whatever they are) to put in it).
Happy Thanksgiving you Americans. Don't scoff too much turkey.
