Goodbye, Dear Constant Reader

Yes, this really is it. The End.

It's been 9 years!! My life used to be exciting enough to write about. Dates gone wrong. Drunken escapades in random destinations. The high life in London during the early days. University, work, Faulty Towers Hotel. It's been fantabulosa!

But... For the last nigh on two years I've struggled to find even a sentence to write on here most days. My average posts have gone from 3 a day to nearer 2 a week. And I must admit defeat. I love this blog, love it. But there's nothing to write about any more.

My life is about to change. A new job, new flat, and a few little surprises that I've got up my sleeve too. I'm cutting out Diet Coke. Everything is in flux. And so I think there's no better time to pull the plug than now.

Walk This World With Me will continue to exist and I will make sure I put in personal updates when anything exciting does happen. But this will be the last post of this blog. And on 30th April 2010 this blog will become password protected. It'll still be there should I need it again, as I surely will one day, but it shall be hidden away just like all my old journals were in the past.

I'd like to just say thank you so much to everyone who has read this blog over the years. And especially to you, Dear Constant Reader, who's time and patience has meant more to me than you shall ever know.

Oh and Eurovision... I'll be keeping Pop Culture going too so all my usual liveblogging of Eurovision will be happening there.

So... this is awkward. Don't be a stranger! You know where I am if you need me, and I know where you are too (my scary stalker skills have not lost any of their potency!). See you around!



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The Countdown Begins!

3am Thursday morning, we were awoken by the dulcet tones of a car crashing into a wall. The doors were still closed by the time we'd dragged ourselves to the window so Jim and I headed out to see if anyone needed assistance.

As Jim made it to the car he scared off the joyriders who had caused the accident and thus satisfied no one was hurt we waited with our neighbours for the police to arrive. As we did two drunks wandered over and stared at the accident.

"What happened?" slurred a drunk

"A car crashed" Jae responded icily suggesting both his intolerance of idiots and his tired impatience.

"Oh. Can I bum a fag off you?"

"NO" Icy stare. Drunks slowly back away...

3am on a Thursday morning! Where the hell had they been??

So things to do:

1) clear out flat and prepare it for handing back to landlord.
2) get a new job in Folkestone
3) find a new flat in Folkestone
4) get fit
5) take over the world.

Simples.

Bought my final monthly travelcard today. No more Oyster! I don't know whether to sing or cry!

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

That's The End To All That

Yesterday, whilst off work sick, Jim and I had a discussion and the ultimate outcome of this discussion were the following facts:

1) Moving to Folkestone is about a change of lifestyle.
2) Commuting to London every day would render this change completely ineffective.
3) I am not happy where I work.
4) My job is gone in a few months anyway thanks to my department being dissolved (yes, customer services... the "all weather" department is being dissolved!!) so I'd have to apply for a new job as it is.

Which all lead to one irrefutable decision: it was time to hand in my resignation at work.

What a relief that was. There is nothing quite like the feeling you get in a job when the axe suddenly no longer hangs even slightly near your head.

So that's it folks. The starting whistle has finally blown for the move to Kent. And there is little we can do to stop the momentum here on in, whether we like it or not.

To the next adventure...

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

Jae Not So Well

Yuck. Last night after leaving work I began to feel somewhat unwell, hot and sticky. An hour later, as I just made it home, things got a whole lot worse.

Well thanks to a midnight run to Tesco's by the ever wonderful Jim, I feel somewhat better after taking some medicine. But... still feel rubbish.

I think it's food poisoning, ironically from a Tesco's prawn mayo sandwich. Grr... never eating one of them again *lies*

A Jake Campione would be most appreciate about now... ;)

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

STRIKE!

Today was strike day at work. I, for various reasons including not wanting to miss a day of pay and not agreeing with fundamental reason for strike, crossed the picket line. It was actually a rather nasty experience.

I understood, from documentaries and movies, that crossing the picket line would not be pleasant. But I thought, naively, that as I knew these people things might be alright. Alas... I arrived at my usual time (i.e. hours before these folks are normally even awake) to find a small picket line had already been formed by some of the housing officers. I immediately greeted them warmly which put them on the back foot but with the aid of a Unison official they were quickly back on message trying desperately to stop me getting into the building. I was pretty perturbed by their questioning and glad I hadn't joined the strike given that I'd be supporting this sort of thing. I made it only to realise... I hadn't stocked up on enough Diet Coke to survive the day.

Others soon arrived all telling me of their own harrowing journey through the doors... slowly the crowd outside the office grew and megaphones were brought out meaning a very unpeaceful morning at work, broken only when I dashed out through the picket to the shop. I made it back but foolishly smiled at a former colleague turned bouncer who immediately rushed me in an effort to persuade me not to cross again. I dived through the doors just in time before the heavies could move in to question me further...

It was all rather nasty until, at 1pm, they all went home. Just disappeared. USELESS!

Anyway, it'll be interesting to see how the office mood goes tomorrow when those same people who were rather unpleasant to me yesterday come asking for help.

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

The Hot Men Of Melodifestivalen

If you'd like to know my thoughts on Melodifestivalen and Your Country Needs You check my post here, or just keep up to date with Eurovision then check here. This post is dedicated to the hot guys of Sweden's Melodifestivalen 2010

Måns Zelmerlöw

Eric Saade

Dolph Lundgren

Ola Svensson

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

What A Week

Monday: Went out for a meal with Jim, Denis, Nail, H, Graham and Hillary at our usual dining destination; Needoo Grill in Whitechapel. Saw Nettie's friend there which shows the success of our spreading the word about this delicious destination. Had a good evening rounded off at the local.

Thursday: Went to the bank to check my statement. After waiting 5 minutes at the Account Manager machine, I got on it, entered my details and pressed print statement button. At which point a Russian lady came up to me and said "Are you going to take all day?". I'm not one for making a scene but that... that INFURIATED ME. You know how obsessed I am about people being quick and efficient in public places, and I was being so... I hadn't been on the machine more than a 30 seconds. So I told her off for being rude and she denied she was.

As I walked away she said "I'm sorry if I upset you". Which is when I went a little overboard, shouting at her about how it was rude people like her dragging this country down, how stupid she was etc. etc. Public embarrassment but I took satisfaction in the fact she looked quite thoroughly terrified of this giant gay man on a rampage. I may regret being a bastard but sometimes these people need to be told.

Mainly what annoyed me was her inconsistency. I hate people who apologise straight after doing something. If you are going to be sorry about it in five seconds time, why do it in the first place? Of course I understand being sorry for something that happened some time before, when you've had a chance to reflect properly. But otherwise it just makes me EVEN ANGRIER. If you are going to insult me, at least have the balls to stand by your statement.

Friday: Went out to the Ram after work, just like last week except with lots more people. There were tales of nervous from university, drunken managers, very close fights, accusations of homosexuality against "straight" colleagues. It was, in other words, bloody brilliant. But I have suffered for it today, and am finally just getting over hangover whilst watching Melodifestivalen 2010!

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Shopping: Is It Really That Hard?

Shopping. It can't be that hard, can it? Pick up goods. Take goods to checkout. Queue if necessary. Prepare money/cards for assistant. Bag goods, exchange money, leave. It's very, very basic. So how come so very few people seem able to do it? 

I can forgive the obviously senile, the elderly and the disabled. But how can you reach the age of 30 with good health and still not be able to understand how to purchase goods in a shop? 

The shocked look on their face when they are asked for money as they pat themselves down, perhaps hoping the assistant will say "Oh, you know what... don't worry about the money today!" The idly standing around whilst the goods are swiped before they suddenly think "Oh, these need to go in a bag!!!".  

It's mindboggling. If we can't perform this simple task, is it any wonder that most of our species believe in sky fairies or that many have bought into the hilarious lie that if you just work hard enough in this life, you'll get to a better place in the next? 

We are surrounded by morons. There's nothing more that can be said. People who can't even carry out their basic daily tasks without stretching their limited intellects to breaking point. It sounds elitist, and hey... it is! I'm no genius but I can catch a train, go to a shop AND work out how to use machines all in one trip! Next time I find some overpaid suit staring stupidly at a train ticket machine or see someone wondering just how a queue works, I'm just going to give them a slap. It's for their own good. I urge you to do the same. 

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist