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Tuesday, 29 March 2011

When I Rule the World!

The one problem with not currently being office-based is a lack of “water cooler moments”. You know, the random interactions with people in the office where you chat about pretty much anything that delays the inevitable return to your whirring PC and the daily grind. In fact the problem perhaps isn’t that I don’t have the moments but more that I still have the thoughts that need exploring when such chance encounters occur!

Fortunately, the latest one at least got discussed to some length in the pub last night and so I thought I’d share it with you now. It boils down to this –

When you rule the world, what five rules and laws would you instigate? That the whole of civilisation would have to adhere to and abide upon pain of, well, some kind of deity angered fiery brimstone fate worse than death. Or at least a good spanking. Now obviously, before embarking on such parameter setting you’d have already taken care of the whole world peace, suffering, so on and so forth – I’d expect no less from an all powerful being such as yourself. No. I’m talking about the things that’d irked you, that you have waited long and worked hard until, having climbed the godly career ladder, you could fix, stop, re-shape or simply CRUSH!

Maybe you’ll go from reading this and have your own discussion about it. Maybe you wonder how I ever got any work done in the past. Both are fairly understandable! But here, for your consideration, are my five.

1.       There will be a strict lane rule in all shopping centres. I’m not talking Tesco, I’m talking your Mall/Shopping Centre type multi-outlet places. It’s a simple rule, but must be obeyed as I’m tired of walking behind dawdlers and stutterers, wanderers and meanderers. ESPECIALLY during lunch times and in the 30 mins before closing. This is the time when people who have jobs shop. It’s hit and run shopping, get in, buy, out, and job’s a good one. The lanes are simple – window shoppers in lane 1, anyone about the age of 70, or likely to moan to the NHS about being too fat, or with seven kids in lane 2, then militant shoppers in lane 3. Simple!
2.       Jeremy Kyle will be killed. But he won’t be alone. Anyone who’s ever been on the show, shot. Anyone who’s ever been in the audience, sorry, shot. Now anyone who’s watched it on purpose, not through stumbling across it, or in fact has watched from start to end......shot, but only in the leg. There. That’ll do I think. I’m not against people seeking help, do it, it’s good. I just think really I hate chavs and when some poor child looks back when his classmates find his parents proving his dad’s not his dad because his mum diddled her partners mum’s cat at some point, surely we’ll look back and say “yes, that wasn’t too clever was it”!
3.       Drugs and prostitution will be legalised – and taxed. Now I have no desire to indulge in either to be honest but there is a lot of money spent on each from the public purse and nothing coming back in. So, lets sort that out and remove the criminal element. I know, it’s a serious one, I just would!
4.       Reality TV will be banned. It’s created too many monsters already. It’s not interesting to anyone aside from people who ought be encouraged to either end it all or just go read a book. Whatever the argument I’ve heard it. It’s controversial but these things breed morons for a host of additional shows and it’s just dragging the world down. If you want to do something informative and insightful at least call it a documentary.
5.       Finally, Adam Sandler will be banned from any further involvement in the film industry. Happy Gilmore, great, that one with the kid and Scooba Steve, good. The Wedding Singer, sweet. But for godsake man stop , please stop! He’s also responsible for Rob Schneider’s career and that is unforgivable. Failure to comply WILL result in dropping him on a Libyan stronghold or from several thousand feet onto Jeremy Kyle. I’m sorry, but you have run out of forgiveness in the hope you’ll recreate former glories. I have a French GCSE but 14 years on I’m acutely aware that I cannot now order a three course meal, buy a house or request unconditional surrender in French. You have to know when to stop.
There are many others. I’d ban fruit in cakes (unless made into jam or put on top), pickled eggs, odd socks, tiny yappy dogs and a whole host of things but for five, that’s a start! As you can see I’m a reasonable leader. What about you?

Monday, 21 March 2011

Five Simple Rules

Since I have newly acquired time on my hands I thought I ought write more. This is in part to really get practising and in part as the fish has little to say and I have a limit on the amount of daytime TV I can cope with.

The job hunt is on. I’ve set myself some standards to work to that I thought I’d share!
1.   WORK. I will apply for at least 5 jobs per day. I’ve done  seven today which is a good benchmark and whilst I’m sure I’ll run out of things to apply for eventually I’ll have “achieved” and that’s good. Not least because when people ask what I’ve done with my day then I can tell them that.  
2.   PLAY. Any COD’ing, or any XBOXing in general, will be restricted. Severely! Games follow completion of the above!
3.   ZI LIST. Also I have a growing list of tasks to be getting on with, kind of like a poor man’s housewife! At least one must be crossed off each day. Oh and I must get a piny......and pink fluffy slippers. Not for housewifery, just because they look nice.
4.   BLOG. I must, MUST blog twice a week. In fact I must do some writing twice a week more to the point. I’ve been re-reading some screenwriting guides and books so once the list (3) is nearing completion I will have a bash.
5.   READ. More to the point, I need to read more. I’ve neglected Steven Fry and for that matter a host of literary acquisitions these last ten days. This is naughty bad and wrong but I won’t beat myself up over it.
There. That’s a good five rules. There are other things to contemplate too. I’ve had suggestions of doing a different blog which I’m considering seriously. I am a man of many ideas you know! I also need to crack on with the bike. It’s about time and back injury banished I’m out of excuses. That and I fully intend to cook more having made cookies for the first time last week – so have to adjust the balance somewhat.

So, there it is! I know, it’s a bland blog this time around but it’s a statement of intent! If I tweeted I’d let you all know how things are going but my propensity for procrastination is severe enough without the excuse of another distraction to pervert my obeyance (not a word I know) of the above. Maybe once the screenplay is done!

Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Dear God

Dear God,

In light of the recent events - earthquakes, floods, tsunami, potential nuclear meltdown, financial crises, a wave of wars, increasing deviant criminality and the unfathomable success of “The Wanted” I feel now would be a good opportunity to apologise for the last, well, numerous years of making light of both you and your believers.

In fact I apologise for questioning your very existence too. I question not whether my friend has a Gran called Margaret just because I haven't born witness to any of her work. He assures me she knits a mean sweater and I believe him. Just because I have never seen her I do not assume that she is a figment of his and the family’s imagination. As such it was amiss to treat you differently. 

Despite the multitude of jokes made and/or forwarded by me I was in fact very sorry to hear about the (relative to the billions of years of Earth's creation, by you, of course) recent crucifixion of your son Jesus. It must be a very difficult thing to watch as a parent and though the temptation must have been there to intervene I understand that sometimes we have to let our children make their own mistakes. If you are ever feeling particularly low my door is always open and there will be a brew on. Surely even a deity such as yourself can be perked by a party ring and jammy dodger.

When I joked that my old housemate Ian and I were to create our own 'religion' of Chris-Ianity I trust that you took this in the tongue in cheek manner it was intended. Imitation IS the best form of flattery after all.

Thankfully I understand that you are an all forgiving being. It is with this in mind that I hope you will find it in yourself to forgive my trespasses. In return I with equally forgive those who’ve, well, you know. This includes the black eye Lee Torrington gave me in school, the person who ran into my car all those years back and, ok. I’m holding my forgiveness for the chap(s) who broke into my car. I’m opting for some Old Testament wrath when it comes to that, I hope that’s ok?

I digress. Thank you in advance for your all encompassing forgiveness. I will no doubt be in touch in the future as I have a feeling that I have some extra sin to get out of the system still but, once that’s all out of the way hopefully we can meet up for a Starbucks and muffin to discuss the finer points of that book of yours.

Many thanks,


PS: Is this what it’s like to be Catholic?

Tuesday, 1 March 2011

Hypochondria Woes

I’m dying. It’s official. I’ve checked and if Google can tell me where the nearest Morrisons is and what time True Grit starts on Thursday evening then it can’t be wrong now it’s telling me that I am not long for this world! I’ll laugh at those people who mocked me on Facebook when I said I was ill. I’ll be truly vindicated when I peg it at…..let me just Ask Jeeves…….3.15pm next Wednesday!

I have all the symptoms. Fever, well, I had that last week. Check. Headaches, yup. Chills, brrrrryup. Back pain – I have some of that too. Loss of appetite, well, yes, some. Which in my case must be the sign of an impending doom. Nausea, yup. That’s it. Yellow Fever – I’m certain. I now await the violent end with assured acceptance of my fate and a chance to, retrospectively, rub the noses of the head shakers and doubting Thomas’s in my phlegmy departure from this world.

In actual fact according to Google I’ll die at the age of 75 in 2056 and I have the health of a 32 year old man! What! I’ve lost two years somewhere, Jesus Christ no! I had so many plans, so much to do. Now so little time to do it. But I don’t know who to believe. It also told me I’m most like the Swedish Chef in the Muppets. Not Kermit, Gonzo, nope, I’m the hurdy gurdy chef!  Maybe I ought to consider a career change too? Why didn’t the careers advisor tell me this fifteen years ago? I wasted so much time. Where did it all go wrong?!?!

I think in fact I may have contracted hypochondria. You can catch that right? I’m not sure if I’ve kissed any hypochondriacs of late. Perhaps it was in the air!! I’ve been breathing hypochondriacal air? The thought alone brings back the nausea and I fear I must have a moment. I need a cure, there must be a cure! Ah, I have it. I need a slap! That must be it. Ok I’ve spent the last week coughing up parts of organs I was planning on keeping and innards that were never meant to be outtards, I had a weekend destroyed by a fever but come one now Chris. It’s time, as I’m reminded most days, to “man up”.

The problem I think is that perhaps I’ve not contracted hypochondria so much as it’s been infused into my very soul. A constant workplace chorus of “oh that doesn’t sound very good”, “you don’t look too well” and “should you really be at work” has me doubting myself! I’ve never really been a feeling-sorry-for-myself type before (well not this bad) so why should I be now? That’s it - I hereby give permission to anyone, everyone, to verbally abuse me, slap me (though not the face) and do whatever you feel necessary next time you see me feeling pitifully sorry for myself and wallowing. Tell me to eat more fruit. Suggest perhaps if I made more use of my bike and less of the Xbox that I’d be fitter or that perhaps playing hockey isn’t the best cure. But please don’t offer sympathy, I’ve wallowed in it for too long now!