High hopes and holidays

November 10, 2007

I’ve been trying all day, unsuccessfully, to sit down and write something here. We’re off to Thailand tomorrow so there’s been loads to do today.

We’re finally sorted and able to relax, hopefully we’ll have a couple of hours sleep before the taxi to the airport,

 So….

Tickets, money, passports, check, check and check.

Mp3’s and movies loaded on laptop, check.

Ready to go? Check 🙂


Name That Pussy Contest

November 7, 2007

Over at Are you sure you want to know? Michael* is looking for a name for his pussy.

He’s chosen the first 10 names suggested in his comments and put them into a poll.

Go here to help him decide on the kittys name  

Sadly my suggestion fell outside the first 10 comments and was discarded, so frankly I dont care what he calls it!

 *I always have to look twice at Michael, I always want to put the e before the a.


Waiting to expire

November 6, 2007

A couple of years ago, I spent 4 months working in India, which was quite an experience as you can imagine. One of my favourite things was reading the Times of India every day and I still like to dip in and out via the wonderful Web.

One of the most endearing things about India is the use of language, the odd turn of phrase, things that you no longer hear in the UK. It’s almost as if somewhere around the 1940’s and Independence, India fixed its idea of what English is, whereas in the UK, English has continued to evolve. Not always for the better, I might add.

Hence, its not uncommon for news stories where people are waylaid and relieved of valuables, usually by miscreants and often in the wee hours. At work, you’d not be popular if you shifted someones timings meaning they had to drive their two-wheeler in rush hour with all the rash drivers.

Something that still makes me smile are the obituaries, not because people died, that’s sad obviously, but it happens. No, it’s the use of expiry and expired to denote death. Here’s an example…

obit.png*

Now picture yourself in a room with 20 Indian faces hanging on your every word as you train them to take calls about debit cards. Imagine the confusion in the room as you explain they will need to ask for the expiry date on the card.

A hand is raised, “Do you mean the card says when the customer will expire??”

You reply, “Almost right, it’s when the card expires.”

Another hand, “How can a card expire?”

More hands go up and more odd questions are asked. Dumbfounded you turn to your SME, he’s been here longer and should know what they are going on about. He’s laughing and then you remember how eager he was for you to deliver the bit about expiry dates.

Set up!

* I downloaded this picture several hours ago and only studied it closely as I was preparing this post. This admirable lady, was born on the same day as me. How spooky! I mean really, that’s spooky, I’m a bit freaked out by this coincidence.


Penny for t’ Guy

November 4, 2007

I went to a bonfire party last night, great fun, we had lots of fireworks and nice food that the guests brought along. Homemade Chili by Angela’s Mum was particularly good, as was the Chicken liver pate that Rob’s Mum made. I also drank a little too much and was asleep by the time the taxi picked us up!

Not so good news, this morning I couldn’t find my mobile phone, I called it a few times, it rang out and went to voice mail. Then around mid-day it stopped ringing out and just went to voice mail, so I know someone has turned it off. It probably fell out of my pocket in the taxi and the next customer took it. Ah well, the sim is locked and so is the phone so without my code they can’t easily use it. I’ll call and get it blocked by the network tomorrow once I’m sure its not going to turn up at the party house.

Anyway back to the bonfire thing, we arrived a little late and missed the burning of the Guy. I had a little rant about the trick or treat thing earlier, so I suppose I should come clean about our home grown tradition of begging at this time of year.

What happens is this, firstly the kids make an effigy of Guy Fawkes. Usually this entails stuffing an old pair of trousers and a sweater with newspaper, attach a football with a mask for a head, position a pair of old shoes at the feet. Next, take Guy and stand outside local shops asking shoppers for a “penny for the guy.”

Now, back in my day the idea was that the money collected was used to buy fireworks for the communal bonfire that would be organised on that bit of wasteland at the end of the street.

These days I’m afraid this is all lost, the money now surely goes towards crack or skunk or whatever it is kids do these days. So, y’know, sorry USA , it’s not ALL your fault 🙂