Walking in the Shadows

Random musings from Warwickshire on life in general... Things that make me laugh, make me cry, things that wind me up beyond all endurance - and everything in between.

Authority forgets a dying king…

A quote from the closing speech delivered by Kevin Costner’s character, in Oliver Stone’s epic film JFK.

And no, I’m not just spouting the studio line when I call this film epic. It is. I’ve just spent the past three hours, totally entranced by a film, and that’s something that is quite unusual.

Ok, I enjoy watching various films, including the Mothman Prophecies (more on that in a bit), but this is one of the few films that I am proud to admit is in my DVD collection. I’ve had in my collection for about 3 / 4 months, and I’ve only just got ‘round to watching it. More to the point, I’ve only just managed to get the peace and quiet to do so!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not begrudging the fact that I spend time with my family / partner, but there are times when I just need a bit of peace and quiet, so that I can veg out, and do my own thing.

I also managed to watch the Mothman Prophecies. Ok – I know that it’s supposed to be based on a true story (isn’t this type of film always based on a true story?!) But to be honest, I was less than impressed. I guess that it was because I had great difficulty in overcoming my initial dislike of Richard Gere.

Despite that, it wasn’t that bad, but it’s not the sort of film that I would select as a DVD of first choice… 5th or 6th, maybe, but I’m afraid that I don’t rate it as highly as films such as Ben Hur, Lawrence of Arabia, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

But, as I type this, I’ve been digging through my CD collection, and managed to turn up one CD (I think it’s one of those compilation cds that I’ve done over the years – songs from all sorts of cds – everything from A-Ha, through to groups like Metallica) and it’s got one of the most emotive songs I’ve ever heard: it’s Scorpions – Wind of change:

I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the winds of change

The world is closing in
Did you ever think?
That we could be so close, like brothers
The future's in the air
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the winds of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the winds of change

Walking down the street
Distant memories
Are buried in the past forever

I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the winds of change

The wind of change blows straight
Into the face of time
Like a storm wind that will ring
The freedom bell for peace of mind
Let your balalaika sing
What my guitar wants to say

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the winds of change

I guess that this song is rather appropriate, as my own life is changing, and I’m lucky enough to have people who care for me, helping me to cope with the changes, and giving me the strength of character I need to change what doesn’t suit me.

Time to call this entry quits- got stuff to do around the house before Mum gets back from work.

Back later, if I get the chance.

Karen.
Don't let the b'stards get you down

Something that reduced me to tears..

I'm not normally prone to tears in the office, but this finished me off, and as I read it, there were tears flowing down my cheeks. Take time to read it, and you'll see why:

Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say, I love you even more this year, than last year on this day. My love for you will always grow, with every passing year."


She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear. She thought, he ordered roses in advance before this day. Her loving husband did not know, that he would pass away.


He always liked to do things early, way before the time. Then, if he got too busy, everything would work out fine.


She trimmed the stems and placed them in a very special vase. Then, sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.


She would sit for hours, in her husband's favourite chair. While staring at his picture, and the roses sitting there.


A year went by, and it was to live without her mate. With loneliness and solitude, that had become her fate.


Then, the very hour, the doorbell rang, and there were roses sitting by her door.


She brought the roses in, and then just looked at them in shock. Then, went to get the telephone, to call the florist shop.


The owner answered, and she asked him, if he would explain, why would someone would do this to her, causing her such pain?


"I know your husband passed away, more than a year ago," The owner said, "I knew you'd call, and you would want to know. The flowers you received today, were paid for in advance. Your husband always planned ahead, he left nothing to chance. There is a standing order, that I have on file down here, and he has paid, well in advance, you'll get them every year.


There also is another thing, that I think you should know, he wrote a special little card... He did this years ago. Then, should ever I find out that he's no longer here, that's the card that should be sent to you the following year."


She thanked him and hung up the phone, her tears now flowing hard. Her fingers shaking, as she slowly reached to get the card.


Inside the card, she saw that he had written her a note. Then, as she stared in total silence, this is what he wrote...


"Hello my love, I know it's been a year since I've been gone. I hope it hasn't been too hard for you to overcome. I know it must be lonely, and the pain is very real. Or if it was the other way, I know how I would feel. The love we shared made everything so beautiful in life. I loved you more than words can say, you were the perfect wife. You were my friend and lover, you fulfilled my every need. I know it's only been a year, but please try not to grieve.


I want you to be happy, even when you shed your tears. That is why the roses will be sent to you for years. When you get these roses, think of all the happiness that we had together, and how both of us were blessed. I have always loved you and I know I always will. But, my love, you must go on, you have some living still.Please... Try to find happiness, while living out your days. I know it is not easy, but I hope you find some ways. The roses will come every year, and they will only stop, when your door's not answered, when the florist stops to knock. He will come five times that day, in case you have gone out. But after his last visit, he will know without a doubt! To take the roses to the place, where I've instructed him and place the roses where we are, together once again.”


Sometimes in life, you find a special friend; someone who changes your life just by being part of it...

Someone who makes you laugh until you can't stop; someone who makes you believe that there really is good in the world. Someone who convinces you that there really is an unlocked door just waiting for you to open it.

There’s nothing more I can add to this entry.

Back tomorrow.

Karen.


Don't let the b'stards get you down

Things that make you go "Ouch"

Profuse apologies if you hurt yourself wincing guys - I will admit, I hurt myself laughing! But then again, I'm a female....

We've all had trouble with our cats, but I don't think we can top this one: Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.


On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head.


The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.


Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. "Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."


"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"


"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."


So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.


It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth.


It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs.

She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.


I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.


Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from experience.


I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.


Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.


Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter... And not succeeding.


Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back into the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about.

Which it was:


"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"


If they only knew!

Suppose I'd better do some work.....

Back later, if I get the chance.

Karen.


Don't let the b'stards get you down

Things that make me laugh...

There's been an awful lot of jokes floating around the office, and to be honest, some of them are rather appropriate... Thankfully, the powers that be here don't seem to object to this sort of thing... Ok - I'll re-phrase that. If they do object, I haven't been told yet! This is one that I thought rather appropriate, especially given the fact that my role is changing....

SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING (SHIT)

In order to ensure the highest levels of quality work and productivity from employees; it is our policy to keep all employees well trained, through our Special High Intensity Training (SHIT). We are trying to give our employees more SHIT than anyone else.

If you feel that you do not receive your share of SHIT on the job, please see your Manager. You will be immediately placed at the top of the SHIT list, and our managers are especially skilled at seeing that you get all the SHIT you can handle.

Employees who do not take their share of SHIT will be placed in Departmental Employee Evaluation Programs, Special High Intensity Training (DEEP SHIT).

Those who fail to take DEEP SHIT seriously will have to go to Employee Attitude Training, Special High Intensity Training (EAT SHIT). Since your managers took SHIT before they were promoted, they do not have to do SHIT anymore because they are full of SHIT already.

If you, too, are full of SHIT, you may be interested in a job, training others. We can add your name to our Basic Understanding Lecture List, Special High Intensity Training (BULL SHIT).

Those who are full of BULL SHIT will get SHIT jobs, and can apply for promotion to Director of Intensity Programming, Special High Intensity Training (DIP SHIT). If you have any questions, please direct them to our Head of Training, Special High Intensity Training (HOT SHIT).

Thank you.

Boss in General, Special High Intensity Training (BIG SHIT)


This is another one of those gems that has people howling here...

A 6 year old and a 4 year old are upstairs in their bedroom. "you know what?" says the 6 year old. "I think it's about time we started cussing."

The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year old continues, "When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm gonna say something with 'hell' and you say something with 'ass'. The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.

When their mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he wants for breakfast, he replies, "Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios."

WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear with every step. His mom locks him in his room and shouts,"You can just stay there until I let you out!"

She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4 year old and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast, young man?" "I don't know," he blubbers, "but you can bet your ass it won't be Cheerios."

Time to call it quits - things are starting to get a little busy around here...

Back later.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

Trying to dull the pain....

My shoulder's killing me, and it doesn't seem to matter how many painkillers I swallow, and how hot I keep the wheatie, the pain doesn't subside. I'm trying to think if I've done anything to aggravate the problem - apart from use the arm normally!

I guess that the pain is really starting to get to me, as I'm feeling really grotty and bad tempered, and I'm trying to avoid taking my frustration out on my colleagues.

But it doesn't help when I get smart ass comments about me having the wheatie on my shoulder. Ok - I know that it doesn't look that good (or smell that good - I think I've cooked it!), but it's keeping me warm and making moving the arm a little easier, so I'm doing my best to ignore the comments.

On top of that, I feel really woolly headed, and just want to get left alone, but certain people just keep niggling at me, and I'm doing my level best to swallow my temper...

Having said that though, one of the girls that I work with has me in fits of giggles, by sending me silly e-mails, and the worst part for me, is the fact that I managed to burst into fits of giggles whilst I was in the process of trying to place an order. Thankfully, the customer was understanding, and jokingly said that if the order was goofed up, he would know the reason why!

But, having said that, it really lighten things when I get an e-mail like this from my line manager... (Names have been removed to protect the allegedly innocent!)

Hi,


I might have mentioned that I am going on holiday for a couple of weeks and return on the 11th April!


For the first time in 4 years I will not be accessible whilst away.


Please keep up the excellent service levels, you are all on for max bonus currently, keep going.


Please use Symposium to check when to go not ready and please be as unpleasant to the customers, both internal and external, as possible.


Whilst I am away please send all holiday requests and absence notifications to either XXXX or XXXXXX.


Thank you.

As if he hadn't gloated about this fact for the past two weeks to my knowledge! Still, if it gives him a break, I guess that I can put up with a bit of gloating - especially as I'm as bad when I'm getting ready to go on holiday!

Rats - it's getting busy.

Back tomorrow.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

Having a blond moment or two..

Yep - you guessed it - my brain is still in holiday mode. But my role in the office is changing again, and I'm being given one of the big accounts to look after on a semi-permanent basis, as the lass who looks after that is going on maternity leave, and may not want to take the account back immediately whan she returns...

But, despite having my out of office message on my e-mail, I'd still got 106 e-mails to deal with - and that didn't include the spam that the company's spam filtering software takes care of!

Having said that though, people have been quite bubbly - especially the Welsh contingent, who came in looking somewhat the worse for wear, as they had been celebrating the Welsh victory in the Six Nations, and me? Well, I just tried to keep a low profile, as there were several comments aimed at me, simply because I support Scotland...

I also managed to make my line manager feel guilty, as he came out with a comment about booking his heart attack for a given time this afternoon... I just quietly said that the comment was rather tasteless, as that was how I'd lost Dad.. So far this afternoon, he's been really nice to me... Amazing what some emotional blackmail can do!

On a different note, I'm still getting jokes sent to me, and Bubba strikes again!

Bubba applies to Wal-Mart


An office manager at Wal-Mart was given the task of hiring an individual to fill a job opening. After sorting through a stack of resumes he found four people who were equally qualified. He decided to call the four in and ask them only one question. Their answer would determine which of them would get the job.


The day came and as the four sat around the conference room table the interviewer asked, "What is the fastest thing you know of?"


Acknowledging the first man on his right, the man replied, "'A THOUGHT.' It just pops into your head.

There's no warning that it's on the way; it's just there. A thought is the fastest thing I know of."


"That's very good!" replied the interviewer. "And now you sir?" he asked the second man.


"Hmm.... let me see. A blink! It comes and goes and you don't know that it ever happened. A BLINK is the fastest thing I know of."


"Excellent!" said the interviewer. "The blink of an eye, that's a very popular cliché for speed."


He then turned to the third man who was contemplating his reply. "Well, out at my dad's ranch, you step out of the house and on the wall there's a light switch. When you flip that switch, way out across the pasture the light in the barn comes on in less than an instant. Yep, TURNING ON A LIGHT is the fastest thing I can think of."


The interviewer was very impressed with the third answer and thought he had found his man. "It's hard to beat the speed of light" he said.


Turning to Bubba, the fourth and final man, the interviewer posed the same question.


Old Bubba replied, "After hearing the three previous answers, It's obvious to me that the fastest thing known is DIARRHOEA."


"WHAT!?" said the interviewer, stunned by the response.


"Oh I can explain." said Old Bubba. "You see the other day I wasn't feeling so good and I ran for the bathroom. But, before I could THINK, BLINK, or TURN ON THE LIGHT, I had already sh.. in my pants."


Old Bubba is the new "Greeter" at the Lake Ellsinore Wal-Mart.

Suppose I'd better get on with some work...

Back tomorrow if I get chance!

Karen.


Don't let the b'stards get you down

2nd Race, and things are looking interesting....

Yep - this season's F1 sure as heck ain't going to be boring. The formula 1 bulletin boards are already buzzing with the possibility that Ferrari are going to go flat on their faces. Lighten up people, this is only the second race!

Ok, I know that I sound like I'm taking sides - far from it. I'm as interested in an open racing season as the next F1 petrol head, but I don't see the point in trying to write off a team's chances when the race conditions are known to be exceptional.

All I'm going to do, is wait and see - and possibly nip down to the bookies to put a bet on a certain M.Schumacher winning WDC (World Driver's Championship) title no. 8.....

But on a serious note, I'm also having to try and source an extra ticket for my trip to Silverstone in July, as my partner has decided that he wants to see what I find so facinating about watching a bunch of cars racing 'round and 'round.

Ah well, suppose I can't complain too much - at least he's showing an interest in one of my hobbies - unlike my ex fiancé, who refused point blank to get involved with anything other than rugby - he even refused point blank to go to Silverstone with me last year - despite the fact that I was going to be watching the race from the pit lane.

Time to log off and bog off - sounds like I'm being summoned for something...

Back later - if I get the chance.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

Finding ways to speed the link

No, I'm not turning my blog into an advertisement for ANY company. I was told about this company, as I'm getting seriously fed up with the crap connection speed that my ISP deems suitable / acceptable. Ok - I know the alternative is to go over to broadband, but until such time as I spend over four hours a day every day on-line, I don't see the point.

I mean, the times that I tend to log on (about 19:00 GMT), the speed can be as low as 36Kbps, and my compression rate is about 28%... This program, can according to what I've been told, give me broadband style performance without the broadband cost.

I'd be interested to hear what other options people have found to speed up their connections - without going to broadband!

Suppose I'd better look like I'm doing the internet search I said I was doing, instead of blogging!

Back later, if I get the chance.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

How do you feel tonight?

In a word? Stuffed. Simply because my other half cooked dinner for us tonight, as he said that my cooking would put Lucriza Borgia to shame.

That and the fact that I lost a bet that I'd had with my other half. It wasn't for money or anything daft like that. No - this was more important to me - it involved my pride. The basis of the bet was the Calcutta Cup that England compete with Scotland for in the international rugby season.

If England won, then I would have to go into work on the first Friday after Easter (we're both off over the Easter bank holiday - here in the Midlands we have Good Friday and Easter Monday off) wearing an England rugby jersey. Ok - not a problem there, as my partner said that if Scotland won, then he would wear the Scotland rugby jersey for work.

To be honest, I didn't really expect Scotland to win, as the last time that they beat England at Twickenham was back in 1983, when Scotland won 22 - 12, and the last time that Scotland beat England in ANY international was back in 2000 at Murrayfield, the score that time being 19 -13.

Apart from that, I'm blissfully happy, and have been allowed to do nothing, apart from put my feet up and be treated like a princess. Especially when my other half found out (courtesy of Mum) that I'd been the one to drive back from the Isle of Wight, without letting her share the driving the way we did on the way to Lymington.

Needless to say, I got a ticking off for that, and reminded that I'm still recovering from a shoulder injury. As if I didn't need reminding of that fact. As I type this, my shoulder is killing me and the painkillers don't seem to have worked. But that could be due to the fact that it's only been about ½ hour since I took them, and it usually takes about ¾ hour to get any effect.

Despite that, I'm really happy, and know that I'll be able to weather any storm that may or may not be brewing when I get back to work on Monday...

The title of this entry comes from a Bryan Adams song: - How do you feel tonight? this is on the album A Day Like Today, and sums up just how I feel at this moment in time:

Is there anybody out there?
Anyone that's loved in vain
Anyone that feels the same


Is there anybody waiting?
Waiting for a chance to win
To give it up and start again


We all need something new
Something that is true
And someone else to feel it too


I feel so high - no one else would know it
I don't know why I feel the way I do
I can't let go - and I’m not scared to show it
Cuz being here feels right
Tell me - how do you feel tonight?


Is there anybody out there?
Anyone that can't explain
Anyone that feels no pain


Is there anybody dreaming
Dreaming of a better day
When everything goes your way


We all need something new
Something that is true
And someone else to feel it too
Someone just like you

Ah well, suppose I'd better log off and bog off - I've got to put up with the gloating and mickey taking...

Ain't love grand?

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down.

Back to the blog... And back on the mainland.

Well, I'm back from the Isle of Wight. Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, but some of the roads were..... Scary I think is the best term! Again, this post will have few external links, and the opinions are mine and mine alone, so if you don't agree with me - tough.

The trip across to the island wasn't as bad as I'd thought - mind you, I was dosed up to the eyeballs on prescription drugs to stop me throwing up - I hate boats full stop! So, we got to the island, no problem.

The fun occurred when I realised that the roads were more like a hill climb track - i.e. steep gradient / nasty bends. But, I soon overcame that problem, and started to enjoy driving.

The St. Maur hotel was lovely - really peaceful and very good food, and had plenty of information on what there was to do on the island. I get the impression that it would be a real walkers paradise, but as Mum isn't fit enough to do that sort of thing, we opted for the other attractions - those that were open that is!

What makes me say that? Simple. The mere fact that most places don't open until April, and those that were open were rather few, or of little / no interest to Mum and myself. But one place that was open, was the Isle of Wight glass studio (see http://www.isleofwightstudioglass.co.uk/) I did get Mum a piece as her birthday is coming up, and if there wasn't anything that she liked, I'd have scampered off over to Stratford to my usual shop to get a piece of glass.

We also found the Garlic Farm. And yes - I did get some garlic bulbs. And boy - didn't I know I'd done so! The reason? Simple. The car stank of garlic everytime I opened the boot! Or at least it did, until I bought a couple of air fresheners to mask the smell!

On the subject of smell, we also found Isle of Wight Lavender (see http://www.lavender.co.uk/) and they make some lovely bath salts. I managed to get some of my favorite Lavender & Rosemary scent, as well as Lavender & Lemongrass. A couple of them I found somewhat overpowering, but it all boils down to personal preference.

But there was one place that I will admit to being somewhat reluctant to go to, but went simply because Mum wanted to go. This was Osborne House, which was Queen Victoria's holiday home on the island. (See http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/ - places to visit for more details / history, etc.) Having said that though, I'm very glad that I did go, as the interior was fabulous, and the tour guide was wonderfully informative...

We also went to the county town of Newport. To be honest, the shops there were rather limted, and if you didn't want to buy your clothes from Marks & Spencers or Matalan, I think you would be hard pushed to find anywhere else on the island!

Other than that, there seemed to be little to do, and some places weren't worth the petrol to get there, but I guess that's one of the perils / part of the fun of travelling to a new location.

We were lucky on the way back though, Mum and I got the earlier ferry back and were able to go to the National Motor Museum at Beulieu in the New Forest. (See http://www.beaulieu.co.uk/ ) To be perfectly honest, I was very disappointed with the motor museum - I thought that there would be loads of exhibts, all with loads of information about the cars, etc.

Well, to be honest there weren't. And, in my opinion, the Motor Heritage centre at Gaydon (http://www.heritage-motor-centre.co.uk/) and the Museum of Road Transport in Coventry (http://www.transport-museum.com/home.htm) have a far better collection, and more to the point, the Coventry museum has the two most important vehicles in the land speed record attempt - Thrust 2 and the current land speed record holding vehicle - Thrust SSC.

Ah well, suppose I'd better go and make peace with the furry fiends - they've been giving me the cold paw treatment since I got home....

Back later - if I haven't been clawed to bits!

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

Spending my time...

Trying to do as little as possible! Especially as I got very little sleep last night, because just as I was settling down to sleep, my phone rang. It was my partner, making sure that I was ok after physio.

Needless to say, when I told him that there was the possibility that I may have to see a sawbones, he was really concerned, and wanted to make sure that I knew that he would be there to support me, whatever the outcome.

That really surprised me, as I wasn't expecting that sort of support, and I guess that the surprise showed in my voice, because he said that he wasn't one of those fellas that scarped at the first sign of trouble!

We spoke for a bit longer, and he said that he would make an effort to see me before I go to the Isle of Wight, as this will be the longest time that we've been apart from each other....

Now onto today... I keep in contact with a fella [who shall remain nameless unless I get told otherwise] and he keeps me rather well entertained with various e-mail jokes - this one being his latest offering:

A wealthy man was having an affair with an Italian woman for several years. One night, during one of their rendezvous, she confided in him that she was pregnant.


Not wanting to ruin his reputation or his marriage, he said he would pay her a large sum of money if she would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she stayed in Italy to raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child turned 18.


She agreed but asked how he would know when the baby was born. To keep it discrete, he told her to simply mail him a post card and write"Spaghetti" on the back. He would then arrange for child support payments to begin.


One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife. "Honey," she said. "You received a very strange post card today."


"Oh, just give it to me and I'll explain it," he said. The wife obeyed and watched as her husband read the card, turned white and fainted.


On the card was written: "Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti. Two with meatballs, one without."

I also get jokes sent to me by my colleagues:

George Bush and the Devil.


George Bush has a heart attack and dies. He goes to hell where the Devil is waiting for him. "I don't know what to do here," says the Devil. "You're on my list but have no room for you, but you definitely have to stay here, so I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I've got 3 people here who weren't quite as bad as you. I'll let one of them go, but you have to take their place. I'll even let YOU decide who leaves."


George thought that sounded pretty good, so he agreed. The Devil opened the first room. In it was Richard Nixon and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and surfacing empty handed over and over and over. Such was his fate in hell.


No!" George said. "I don't think so. I'm not a good swimmer and don't think I could do that all day long."


The Devil led him to the next room. In it was Tony Blair with a sledgehammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, time after time after time.


"No! I've got this problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if all I could do was break rocks all day!" commented George.


The Devil opened a third door. In it, George saw Bill Clinton lying naked on the floor with his arms staked over his head and his legs staked in spread eagle pose. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best.


George Bush looked at this in disbelief for a while and finally said, "Yeah,I can handle this." The Devil smiled and said.... "Monica, you're free to go!"


Suppose I should think about doing some work, but to be honest, I'm suffering from a severe case of TNFI.......

Back later - if I get the chance.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

After the Physio - and I'm scared.

No - I'm not scared of the physio - she's very good, and I won't hear a word said against her. Even if I do refer to her as a sadist! What I'm scared of is the possibility that I'll have to have my shoulder operated on, and all the associated hassle that it will cause me.

What makes me say this? Simple. The shoulder appears to be tracking normally, meaning that the muscles in the joint are healing nicely, but I'm still in pain, and am still getting the horrible "crunching" sensation when I move my arm.

So, it looks like I may have to see a sawbones (sorry - orthopaedic surgeon) and have some of the collar bone removed, in order to allow the arm to move without restriction, and hopefully, prevent this problem re-occurring every 3 - 4 months.

There is, however, the small matter of me being unable to use my right arm for about 6 - 8 weeks, which means no driving, no horse-riding, no swimming, and no fun for me. Plus I'll have to consider the impact that me being off will have on my job.

Don't get me wrong - the company has been very supportive, and my friends and colleagues as well as my line manager, have bent over backwards trying to help me so the last thing I want, is to appear to be taking the piss.

Especially as I'd only just gone permanent at the company (I'd started there as a temporary worker / contractor) when I had to take two weeks off, because I lost Dad. Ok - that was exceptional circumstances, but since then, my health has been on the fragile side of things.

I know that this sounds like I'm jumping to conclusions, and all the other junk that people may well be thinking, as they read this, but I've got to consider the impact that the operation would have on my life.

Mum's not 100% fit, and to be honest, I don't think she ever will be, and the stress of me ending up back in hospital is the last thing I want to put on her.

If Dad had been around, I wouldn't have had a problem but as it's just the two of us (and no - I'm not discounting my partner - he's a real tower of strength - this is a purely selfish matter - me and my Mum!) I don't want to cause her any more grief / hassle / stress than I really need to.

But, I guess that the only thing I can do for the moment is take each day at a time, and see what the physio says when I see her after my holiday....

Time to call this quits - I need my ugly sleep.

Back tomorrow.

Karen.
Don't let the b'stards get you down

Knackered - but there's a good reason why....

I guess the title says it all. I had a brilliant time last night - even if I did get stuck in traffic on the way to my partner's place. Needless to say, I was less than impressed, but thankfully, my partner had got the shower ready for me to get into as soon as I arrived, and whilst I was in the shower, he very thoughtfully laid out my clothes for the evening.

We got to Nottingham, and managed to park quiet easily, and then headed into the concert.... What can I say about that, apart from WOW! Russell Watson was a true pro - belting out both classical opera arias, to my personal favorite: Where My Heart Will Take Me

It's been a long road, getting from there to here.
It's been a long time, but my time is finally near.
And I can feel the change in the wind right now, nothing's in my way.
And they're not gonna hold me down no more, no they're not gonna hold me down.

Cause I've got faith of the heart,
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe, I can do anything..
I've got strength of the soul, and no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star,
I've got faith, faith of the heart.

It's been a long night, trying to find my way,
Been through the darkness, now I finally have my day.
And I will see my dream come alive at last.
I will touch the sky,
And they're not gonna hold me down no more, no they're not gonna change my mind.

I've known the wind so cold,
I've seen the darkest days.
But now the winds I feel, are only winds of change.
I've been through the fire and I've been through the rain.
But I'll be fine ...

'Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe, I can do anything.
I've got strength of the soul, and no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star,
I've got faith, faith of the heart.

'Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe, I can do anything.

I've got strength of the soul, and no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star,
I've got faith, faith of the heart.


Cause I've got faith of the heart.
I'm going where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe, I can do anything.
I've got strength of the soul, and no one's gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star,
I've got faith, faith of the heart.

 I know that this isn't strictly a classical piece, but it's one of my favourites, and it really lifts me when I'm feeling flat. After the concert,the pair of us went to dinner, and we finally got back home at 02:30 this morning! I slept in the car on the way down, and was only woken up when we'd arrived.

Despite that, I'm knackered today, but I know that the reason I'm knackered is because I had a really good time last night, and I know that all this has done is strengthen the bond between us, and that hopefully, we'll be able to withstand whatever life has to throw at the pair of us - both on a personal and professional level.

Suppose I should think about doing some w*rk, instead of blogging, before I get strung up by my line manager....

Back later, if I get chance before I go to Physio today....

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

Tired and fed up

I guess I'm just in one of those moods - you know, where you can't seem to settle to doing anything, and your colleagues seem intent on picking at you for innocuous comments. So, I guess that this kind of sums up how I'm feeling at the moment..

To All Staff,

RE: SWEARING AT WORK

It has been brought to management's attention that some individuals throughout the company have been using foul language during the course of normal conversation with their co-workers.

Due to complaints received from some employees who may be easily offended,this type of language will no longer be tolerated.

We do however; realize the critical importance of being able to accurately express your feelings when communicating with co-workers.Therefore, a list of 18 New and Innovative phrases have been provided so that proper exchange of ideas and information can continue in an effective manner.


1) TRY SAYING: I think you could use more training.

INSTEAD OF: You don't know what the f___ you're doing.

2) TRY SAYING: She's an aggressive go-getter.
INSTEAD OF: She's a ball-busting b__ch.

3) TRY SAYING: Perhaps I can work late.
INSTEAD OF: And when the f___ do you expect me to do this?

4) TRY SAYING: I'm certain that isn't feasible.
INSTEAD OF: No f___ing way.

5) TRY SAYING: Really?
INSTEAD OF: You've got to be sh__ing me!

6) TRY SAYING: Perhaps you should check with...
INSTEAD OF: Tell someone who gives a sh__.

7) TRY SAYING: I wasn't involved in the project.
INSTEAD OF: It's not my f____ing problem.

8) TRY SAYING: That's interesting.
INSTEAD OF: What the f___?

9) TRY SAYING: I'm not sure this can be implemented.
INSTEAD OF: This sh__ won't work.

10) TRY SAYING: I'll try to schedule that.
INSTEAD OF: Why the f___ing h _ll didn't you tell me sooner?

11) TRY SAYING: He's not familiar with the issues
INSTEAD OF: He's got his head up his a__.

12) TRY SAYING: Excuse me, sir?
INSTEAD OF: Eat sh__ and die.

13) TRY SAYING: So you weren't happy with it?
INSTEAD OF: Kiss my a__.

14) TRY SAYING: I'm a bit overloaded at the moment.
INSTEAD OF: F___ it, I'm on salary.

15) TRY SAYING: I don't think you understand.
INSTEAD OF: Shove it up your a__.

16) TRY SAYING: I love a challenge.
INSTEAD OF: This job sucks.

17) TRY SAYING: You want me to take care of that?
INSTEAD OF: Who the h___ died and made you boss?

18) TRY SAYING: He's somewhat insensitive.
INSTEAD OF: He's a prick.

Thank You,

Human Resources

Ah well, suppose I should get on with a bit of work - but I'm suffering from TNFI - Totally No F______g Interest - but that could be due to the fact that I'm going to see Russell Watson at the Theatre Royal in Nottingham tonight,and I've got to get out of work at bang on 17:30, in order to get to my partner's place in time to get changed, freshen the make up, and get on the road to Nottingham.

Suppose I should get on with some work, instead of blogging.....

Back tomorrow - workload / hangover / exhaustion permitting!

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

Tails from the furry side...

I know that I've not updated my blog for a couple of days, but I've been busy with various bits and pieces - including taking the furry psychopath (Ponto) and the hippy (Fred) to the vet for their booster jabs.

Normally, the vet puts little booties and a muzzle of sorts on Ponto, as he's totally anti-vet. But, this time, it wasn't the usual vet we (the cats and I) saw. It was a locum. Fred was his normal dopy self, and purred the whole time - even when he had the jabs!

Ponto was in a different league altogether. He came out the cat basket like a furry atom bomb - with teeth and claws. I managed to grab hold of him, and asked the vet if he was going to put the booties and muzzle on him.

"I don't need such protection" came the lofty reply. As soon as he said that, my thoughts were along the lines of 'ok - on your head be it - I know what Ponto's like!' So, as far as I was concerned, it was touch the cat and stand well back to avoid the claws and fangs.

Ponto got his jabs. Eventually. But only after the vetinary nurse grabbed hold of him, wrapped him in a towel and left one little bit to get the jabs. The cat's yowls were awful - I could almost hear the expletives in the yowls - I think they were along the lines of "lemme outta here you b'stard - I'll teach you to stick ****ing needles in me!"

I will admit to being glad to go to work this morning. Ponto did nothing but give me the evil eye all evening, and even refused to sleep on the bed. Not that I objected - he snores worse than my other half!

Time to call it quits - I'm supposed to give my other half a call to let him know what time I'm going to be able to make it over to his place tomorrow night...

Back tomorrow - workload / cats etc. permitting!

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down.

Sometimes I wonder....

What is it about some people? They buy a powerful car (something like a BMW 5 series) and then appear to be terrified of the car. I sometimes wonder if they've just bought the damned thing, because it's a prestige mark, and will look good parked on the drive / at the golf club / private gym car park.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not jealous (apart from the one occasion when I saw my dream car - an Aston Martin DB9 - being driven by some guy who couldn't have been a day over 90!), but it just infuriates me to see such cars being pootled about by people who seem to cling onto the steering wheel, almost as if that will somehow stop them going too fast.

What makes me rant like this today? Simple. A trip into Stratford-Upon-Avon, via the A46 - which is for all intents and purposes a motorway without the hard shoulder. I had the misfortune to get stuck behind someone in a 5 Series BMW, that refused to do above 50mph, and wouldn't move into the left hand lane either, despite the fact that there was nothing in the lane!

I eventually got past (a sneaky overtake on the Longbridge Island) and got a very dirty look from the passenger when I out accelerated the BMW, and sped off at high speed. Well, I was being reckless - I was doing 70mph - which is the speed limit on the road in question!

And before I get comments e-mailed to me that I would be scared to drive those cars, let me get one thing straight right now. I've driven everything from 1.2 litre Fiat Puntos (my first car was a '94 Fiat Punto SX - called Fiendish - simply because it was fiendishly expensive to sort out when it went wrong!) through to the one car that I will admit to being in awe of - the TVR Tuscan 3.8 l V8.... (See http://www.pistonheads.com/tvr/tuscanracer/brochure.htm for tech spec)

Ok - I know that my current car isn't exactly supercar material (I would have liked to get the Peugeot GTi 180, but my insurance company would love me, and my bank manager hate me!) but I'm planning on getting some tuning work on it... Along the lines of having the engine bored out to the exact spec that was laid down when the engine was designed, and a few other bits.

I did the same thing with my Toyota, and that turned it from a normal Yaris, into a tyre chewing, rain hating monster. Despite that, it was remarkably civilized around town (ok - it hated traffic jams), and was quite happy belting around a track - once I'd put the track day wheels on it.

Well, I'll be damned if I was going to ruin a set of road tyres, and as the tyres were about £50 + tyre - and that didn't include the hassle I had getting the damned things, it made sense for me to make the investment.

But, there was one drawback to using different tyres for the track days - I couldn't get the particular brand of tyre I wanted here in the UK, as there wasn't the requirement to bring the track tyre into the UK.

Thanks. That's a fat lot of good to me, but I was lucky enough to find a company who were able to help me get the tyres, and them fit them to the rims that I'd already invested in (OZ rims - expensive, but well worth the investment - the car went like I'd stuffed a small rocket up the exhaust pipe!)

However, when I sold the Toyota, I kept the wheels (I'm not as dumb as I sound!), and as soon as I get fit (or more to the point, I can use my right arm a bit more) I'm booking myself on a track day, and I'll see exactly what the Pug is made of...

So, if you're in the UK, and at a track day in the next few months, keep an eye open for a small Blue Pug with an attitude problem - you never know, it may be me!

Time to call it quits - I've got to go and wash the lights on the car - they're covered in road film because of all the salt / general crap that coats the roads these days.

Back tomorrow, if I get the peace and quiet.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down.

No guesses as to what was being hinted at here!

Catching up with the gossip - in the name of charity...

Just one of the things that I like about getting together with friends and work mates. And this time, it wasn't just an excuse to get pissed - it was to support the company's nominated charity - The Warwickshire & Northamptonshire Air Ambulance (please go to this link - http://www.wnaa.co.uk/ - it'll tell you all about the charity!)

It was a disco / raffle / auction / karaoke, held in Leamington. And yes - I did sing, OK - rephrase that - tried to sing. I did a duet with one of the senior managers, after I'd jokingly said to him that I would sing at the karaoke, if he'd sing with me.

Ok - not normally a problem, as I've said, I'm game for making an idiot of myself - especially in the name of charity. This time, however, I hadn't banked on going down with a stinking cold, and having very little voice left to sing, as I'd been at work, and my job involves an awful lot of talking.

My partner wasn't at the do, but he'd heard from people who were there, that Roger drowned me out. He did - simply because his voice was stronger than mine, and he also knew the song - it was Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers. If I'd had my way, we'd have done something like When you're Gone - by Bryan Adams & Mel C. But, beggars can't be choosers, and I will admit, I did enjoy myself...

The thing that I really enjoyed, was the chance to catch up with a certain person I'd not seen since January. Yep - you guessed it - my 'escort' from the post conference piss up. We sat talking about various bits and pieces - despite the fact that he was serously miffed that I'd not called him to let him know I was in Edinburgh last weekend!

When I pointed out that I'd been there for the rugby, he said he wasn't bothered about Rugby, as he couldn't stand the game, but would have joined up with me for a night out on the town! I also managed to find out a bit more information (for my own peace of mind) about the morning after the conference....

As I've said in a previous post, my line manager was rather subdued, and I always put this down to the size of his hangover.... Well, it turns out that the hangover was only part of the problem. The rest was due to a comment that was passed over breakfast at the hotel where they were all staying.....

"You've got good staff", was the comment that was passed by my escort, when he was asked if he'd had a good time the night before and apparently, my line manager looked stunned for a moment, and then started talking business!

My guess is he must have thought along the lines of 2 + 2 = 22. God knows what he thought I'd done - as I've said, this fella is married, and I was there with my partner! Still, it explains an awful lot.

Needless to say, I'm not stupid enough to say anything on Monday, as there are some ghosts that I wish to lay to rest / leave where they lie. If anything, talking to a couple of other people, it's taught me that people will see things as more involved than they really are - and draw their own conclusions - no matter what you may or may not say.

And this time, I left with another couple, and the fact that I was seen walking to my car can be vouched for. That and the fact that I drove over to my partner's home (where I'm updating my blog!) so hopefully, there won't be too many stupid comments...

Supposed I ought to log off and bog off - got to wrap Mum's Mother's Day present up...

Back later - possibly.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

A time for fun and reflection

I guess that the title of my latest blog entry is a bit unusual, as fun and reflection don't often go together... However, this is one of the occasions when they did.

The fun was the fact that I was able to spend the day taking the mickey out of various people - including my line manager, who really copped a beauty off me this afternoon....

I was complaining that the physiotherapist was a sadistic bitch (ok - she's not that bad - just a little bit too forceful - I'm a delicate little thing where my shoulder's concerned), and I was told that I enjoyed it really....

"Ok - you can go in my place, and I'll go to the meeting."

"No thanks Karen - I wouldn't want to deprive you of your fun. What's her name?"

"Not sure - only met her once. Why?"

"She sounds like Miss Whiplash."

"Oh yes? Have you met her before?"

"Once or twice."

"I wasn't asking about your private life."

I've never seen anyone go so red. It was quite funny, and for once, my line manager was lost for words. But, I guess that could have been to do with the fact that we work in an open plan office, and most people would have heard the pair of us talking, and my final comment!

The time for reflection came when I got home, and checked the post box. There was a hand written note from my Aunt Pauline. It turned out that she and my Uncle Martin had taken the chance to come over and see Mum and myself - but the pair of us were at work!

To be honest, I'm not really bothered, as I like my uncle, but my aunt is not someone that I have much time for. But, I guess that there'll be plenty of time to avoid them in the future...

But the best bit, for me is the mere fact that I can update my blog whilst listening to a rather unusual choice of music..... Kevin Bloody Wilson. I will admit, some of the songs are rather.... Fruity in language, but my favorite is a send up of Frosty the Snowman - Frosty the Yobbo.

Time to call this entry quits - I can hear Mum's car pulling up on the drive...

Back tomorrow.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down

Breaking the habit...

I'm worried. No - it's nothing to do with my ex (he hasn't tried to contact me today, so hopefully he's getting the hint!) but it's to do with my shoulder.

As I've said in previous posts, I've managed to damage my right shoulder again, and am currently undergoing treatment with a physiotherapist. Don't get me wrong, she's very good, but has told me that if I can't rectify the problem with my shoulder blade, then I'll have to see an orthopedic surgeon.

The trouble is, when I damaged the shoulder back in April 2004, it looks like the injury caused the shoulder blade to stick out away from the chest wall, putting strain on the rest of the joint, and causing me no-end of trouble.

And why am I breaking the habit? Simple. I've finally realised that my ex-fiance is a male bunny boiler (if you can have such a thing) and have decided to change my e-mail and mobile phone numbers. I've texted people who's' e-mail addresses I lacked and gave a brief summary of my reasons, and gave them the new details.

To be honest, the Linkin Park track, Breakin' the Habit, sums up just how I'm feeling at this moment in time...

Memories consume like opening the wound
I'm picking me apart again
You all assume, I'm safe here in my room
Unless I try to start again

I don't want to be the one the battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize that I'm the one confused
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream

I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright

So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight...

Clutching my cure, I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more, than any time before
I have no options left again

I don't want to be the one the battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize that I'm the one confused
I don't know what's worth fighting for

Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean

I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight

I'll paint it on the walls
'Cause I'm the one at fault
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
To show you what I mean
I don't know how I got this way

I'll never be alright
So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight...


Suppose I'd better log off for tonight - I promised I'd go and see my other half tonight, and it's time I got moving!

Back tomorrow - if I get the chance.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down.

Trying to break with the past - but the past won't let me escape

The break away in Edinburgh was just what the doctor ordered - even if I did have a major hangover! But that was self inflicted - I went drinking with some Italian rugby fans after the match. They were drowning their sorrows - I was celebrating, and my other half was just enjoying himself - not to mention trying to block out the freezing cold wind!

The problems arose when we got back to our respective homes. I'd left my 'phone turned off over the weekend, as the people I cared about knew that I was going to be away, and was unlikely to even think about turning my 'phone on, let alone check to see if there were any messages.

When I did turn my 'phone on, I discovered that there were about half a dozen messages - all from my ex-fiance. He sounded desperate, irritated and indifferent, depending on the order that I'd listened to the messages. I will admit, all it did was upset me, as all I want is to be left alone.

But, that wasn't the only trick up his sleeve... He called me last night, and said that he needed to see me, as his father had been diagnosed with cancer, and hadn't got long to live. OK - call me a nasty sceptical cow, but after I'd spoken to him, I called his sister to see what the real truth was.

Yep - you guessed it. He was just stringing me along, as he doesn't know that I'm still in contact with the rest of his family, as I always had time for them. I did the decent thing, and told my other half, who went loopy, and was all in favour of going down south, and beating the living crap out of him.

To be honest, I felt like doing that, but if I did go down south and confront him, it would give him the idea that I care about him, when all I want is for him to leave me the hell alone. And to be honest, it's getting to the stage where I'm worried about answering my 'phone.

I know that there will be people reading this, and who will be sitting there, muttering "Silly cow. Why don't you change your mobile number and e-mail address so that he can't contact you?"

If it was that easy, I would do so, but I fail to see the reason why I should have all the hassle of changing my contact details, just because some moron can't get it through his thick skull that I want nothing more to do with him.

Ah well, time to log of and bog off - I've got stuff to do before I get to bed tonight....

Back when I get chance.

Karen.


Don't let the b'stards get you down.

Weekends were made for escaping....

I guess that the title of this entry says it all. I've escaped from Warwickshire, and am currently updating my blog whilst seated in my Great-Uncle's study in Wilkeston - on the outskirts of Edinburgh.

What am I doing here? Simple. It has to do with the small matter of a rugby international between those two "super powers" of world rugby - Scotland and Italy, in the Six Nations tournament at Murrayfield.

For more years than I care to admit to (ok - about 10!) my uncle has bought me tickets to a rugby international of my choice as a birthday / Christmas present. So, I took him up on his offer and took this particular game.

Ok - maybe it's not the game that most purists would have chosen, but I wanted to see my uncle on his home turf, and sit and shoot the breeze with him, as I'd not seen him since last year - at Dad's funeral.

But I'm not here on my own. I've brought my other half with me, as he's a rugby fanatic, but has never managed to make it to an international for one reason or another, and has for as long as I've known him, been on about getting tickets.

So, without his knowledge, I made the necessary arrangements, having made sure that he wasn't working this weekend by asking his manager, and explaining my motives. (I'll give the guy his due, he's a damned good actor, as he looked really surprised when my other half told him what I'd done!) And then all I had to do was choose the right moment to tell my other half...

I gave him the news of this particular trip on Thursday night, The look of surprise was something I'll treasure, and he looked at me as if he wasn't quite sure about me, as he knows that I'm quite capable of winding him up like clockwork.

I managed to dispel his fears by producing the flight confirmation for the flight to Edinburgh from Birmingham on the Friday night flight, and the return flight on Sunday night.

Ah well, suppose I'd better log off and bog off - there are things I want to do before I go to the rugby....

Back tomorrow - hangover permitting!

Karen.


Don't let the b'stards get you down.

Howling with laughter...

I couldn't resist posting this joke - it came in from a Texas native, and believe me, his chili dishes are lethal - a case of one fart and you cauterize your haemaroides!

If you can read this whole story without laughing then there's no hope for you. Most people will be crying by the end.

Note: Please take time to read this slowly. If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better. For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is.

They actually have a Chili Cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio city park. The notes are from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield, IL.

Frank: Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted. Here are the scorecards from the event: (Frank is Judge #3)


Chili # 1 Eddie's Maniac Monster Chili...

Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

Judge # 3 (Frank) Holy Moly what the hell is in this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy!


Chili # 2 Austin's Afterburner Chili....

Judge # 1 ? Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face. These hicks are out of their minds.


Chili # 3 Ronny's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili...

Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans

Judge # 2 -- A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.

Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting frog-faced from all of the beer...


Chili # 4 Dave's Black Magic?

Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish orother mild foods, not much of a chili.

Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb woman is starting to look HOT... just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?


Chili # 5 Lisa's Legal Lip Remover...

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

Judge # 2 --Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.


Chili # 6 Pam's Very Vegetarian Variety...

Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices & peppers.

Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames. I messed myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.


Chili # 7 Carla's Screaming Sensation Chili..

Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.**

Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and Iwouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.


Chili # 8 Karen's Toenail Curling Chili...

Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.

Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor fella. Wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?



The moral of the story?

Life is not like a box of chocolates. Life is like a jar of jalapeños.


What you do today may burn your ass tomorrow!


Back when I get peace and quiet from the moggies....

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down.

Shoe bomber Update...

This is a copy of the e-mail that I received yesterday - the only editing I've done is to remove the sender's identity.

Karen.
Remember the guy who got on a plane with a bomb built into his shoe and tried to light it? Did you know his trial is over? Did you know he was sentenced? Did you see/hear any of the judge's comments on TV/Radio? Didn't think so. Everyone should hear what the judge had to say.

Ruling by Judge William Young US District Court

Prior to sentencing, the Judge asked the defendant if he had anything to say.

His response: After admitting his guilt to the court for the record, Reid also admitted his "allegiance to Osama bin Laden, to Islam, and to the religion of Allah," defiantly stated "I think I ought not apologize for my actions," and told the court "I am at war with your country."

Judge Young then delivered the statement quoted below, a stinging condemnation of Reid in particular and terrorists in general:

January 30, 2003, United States vs. Reid. Judge Young: Mr. Richard C. Reid, hearken now to the sentence the Court imposes upon you. On counts 1, 5 and 6 the Court sentences you to life in prison in the custody of the United States Attorney General. On counts 2, 3, 4 and 7, the Court sentences you to 20 years in prison on each count, the sentence on each count to run consecutive with the other.

That's 80 years. On count 8 the Court sentences you to the mandatory 30 years consecutive to the 80 years just imposed. The Court imposes upon you each of the eight counts a fine of $250,000 for the aggregate fine of $2 million. The Court accepts the government's recommendation with respect to restitution and orders restitution in the amount of $298.17 to Andre Bousquet and $5,784 to American Airlines. The Court imposes upon you the $800 special assessment.

The Court imposes upon you five years supervised release simply because the law requires it. But the life sentences are real life sentences so I need go no further. This is the sentence that is provided for by our statutes. It is a fair and just sentence. It is a righteous sentence.

Let me explain this to you. We are not afraid of you or any of your terrorist co-conspirators, Mr. Reid. We are Americans. We have been through the fire before. There is all too much war talk here and I say that to everyone with the utmost respect. Here in this court, where we deal with individuals as individuals and care for individuals as individuals. As human beings, we reach out for justice.

You are not an enemy combatant. You are a terrorist. You are not a soldier in any war. You are a terrorist. To give you that reference, to call you a soldier, gives you far too much stature. Whether it is the officers of government who do it or your attorney who does it, or that happens to be your view, you are a terrorist... And we do not negotiate with terrorists. We do not treat with terrorists. We do not sign documents with terrorists. We hunt them down one by one and bring them to justice.

So war talk is way out of line in this court. You are a big fellow. But you are not that big. You're no warrior. I know warriors. You are a terrorist. A species of criminal guilty of multiple attempted murders. In a very real sense, State Trooper Santiago had it right when you first were taken off that plane and into custody and you wondered where the press and where the TV crews were and he said you're no big deal.

You're no big deal.

What your counsel, what your able counsel and what the equally able United States attorneys have grappled with and what I have as honestly as I know how tried to grapple with, is why you did something so horrific. What was it that led you here to this court room today?

I have listened respectfully to what you have to say. And I ask you to search your heart and ask yourself what sort of unfathomable hate led you to do what you are guilty and admit you are guilty of doing. And I have an answer for you. It may not satisfy you, but as I search this entire record, it comes as close to understanding as I know.

It seems to me you hate the one thing that is most precious. You hate our freedom. Our individual freedom. Our individual freedom to live as we choose, to come and go as we choose, to believe or not believe as we individually choose. Here, in this society, the very winds carry freedom. They carry it everywhere from sea to shining sea.

It is because we prize individual freedom so much that you are here in this beautiful courtroom. So that everyone can see, truly see, that justice is administered fairly, individually, and discretely. It is for freedom's sake that your lawyers are striving so vigorously on your behalf and have filed appeals, will go on in their representation of you before other judges.

We are about it. Because we all know that the way we treat you, Mr. Reid, is the measure of our own liberties. Make no mistake though. It is yet true that we will bare any burden; pay any price, to preserve our freedoms. Look around this courtroom. Mark it well. The world is not going to long remember what you or I say here. Day after tomorrow, it will be forgotten, but this, however, will long endure. Here in this courtroom and courtrooms all across America, the American people will gather to see that justice, individual justice, justice, not war, individual justice is in fact being done.

The very President of the United States through his officers will have to come into courtrooms and lay out evidence on which specific matters can be judged and juries of citizens will gather to sit and judge that evidence democratically, to mold and shape and refine our sense of justice.

See that flag, Mr. Reid? That's the flag of the United States of America. That flag will fly there long after this is all forgotten. That flag stands for freedom. You know it always will.

Mr. Custody Officer. Stand him down.

So, how much of this Judge's comments did we hear on our TV sets? We need more judges like Judge Young, but that's another subject. Pass this around. Everyone should and needs to hear what this fine judge had to say. Powerful words that strike home.
God bless America

More from the wounded one...

Ok - I know that sounds melodramatic, but it's just how I'm feeling at this moment in time. I went into work yesterday - against Mum's wishes, but I'm glad in a way that I did.

Simply because we'd got four people in the department off. Ok - I know one of them doesn't really count (and no - I'm not being rude / nasty) because my line manager doesn't take any of the calls, but the other three do count.

And, as it transpired, if I hadn't been in, most of the reports that I do wouldn't have been done. No, that's not me blowing my own trumpet - it's a statement of fact, as the guy who normally covers for me if I'm on holiday / off sick / got tnfi (totally no f*****g interest) was also off.

But, despite that, my colleagues were really supportive and seemed to make allowances for me being a little slower on the computer than normal, as I'm one of these lucky (ok - smart ass) people that can type properly - as in using all the fingers of both hands.

Equally, I was glad I went into work, as it gave me a chance to catch up on the 50 + e-mails that seem to have landed in my in-box. I occasionally get spam, but more often than not, I get some real gems being sent into me - this one being one of them....

See the next post for the e-mail - it deserves a post of its own.

Karen.

Don't let the b'stards get you down.