Monday, 31 October 2011

A Girl's Best Friend

Yesterday, sitting in traffic with The Boy Wonder we were talking about cars. He's a real car nut already and we often play 'name that car'. In front of us, at the traffic lights, was a Megane.

Me: Do you know what make that car is?
TBW: It's a Renault. I don't like the logo very much.
Me: Well, it's just a diamond shape isn't it. I don't suppose it's very interesting.
TBW: Not for me. But ladies like diamonds don't they?

You'll go far son.

NDC

Friday, 14 October 2011

Thursday, 6 October 2011

Rise of the Machines

Back in the Eighties when I was young and (slightly more) foolish, most of the people I knew worried about the chance that the cold war would escalate and that that mankind would be vapourised in a nuclear holocaust. For my part, I gave a little headspace to this crazy notion, mainly because you need to have something to have 'serious' drunken conversations about at parties, right? But deep down I knew what would be our ultimate undoing.

A steady diet of films like Wargames and Terminator fed my overactive imagination. I genuinely worried that somewhere, in top secret military labs, boffins in white coats were working out the secrets of artificial intelligence. I worried that they would succeed and unwittingly create a code-based Frankenstein's monster that would become sentient and do for us all, seeing the human race at best as an irrelevance or at worst a handy power source.

The years moved on and the nuclear threat subsided. Holes in the ozone layer, global warming, diminishing oil supplies and global economic meltdown all took the place of the mushroom cloud, vying for the title of Thing Most Likely To Finish Us Off. I hadn't worried about technology taking us to the cleaners in ages.

Until today.

I set a form to print (150 copies). I watched the first 10 or so come off and then, satisfied that all was well, went of to do other things. I came back to this:


Not quite Skynet, granted. But the printer is definitely saying 'up yours'.

NDC


Tuesday, 4 October 2011

It's a no from me.


I arrived home on Sunday morning to find this waiting on my doormat.

And to be honest, although a big chunk of me is relieved, a small but quite vocal part of me is quite disappointed.

I bet that small but quite vocal part of me will STFU come January though, when I can just sit around on my fat arse and eat biscuits, instead of going out in the rain and sub-zero temperatures looking like a cross between Max Wall and an advert for road safety in order to do a 15 mile run.

NDC

Saturday, 1 October 2011

Specifically Targeted Products


Wow. They do a depilatory product for pretty much every body part now, don't they?

I'm a bit surprised at the picture of the lady on the front though. Last time I checked they didn't have 'nads.

NDC

Friday, 30 September 2011

The Allowed List

OK, so I know that The Allowed List (hereinafter referred to as TAL) is a pretty commonplace thing in long term relationships, I know a lot of (probably most) couples have them, but I have to be honest and say that I don't really like them.

I Just don't get the mechanics of it. I worry about the questions it throws up, the myriad of grey areas and poor original specification of what is admissible on your list.

Why is it OK to expect the person you share your life with to give you a cheery thumbs up when you rock up at home after a drunken night out, with Angelina Jolie* in tow and announce that you're just off upstairs to do the wild thing? It just wouldn't wash if it was Brenda from next-door-but-one, would it?

Is it the fame? At what point does a person become famous enough to qualify for a TAL? If Brenda decides to cycle across Guatemala to raise money for charidee and appears on page 7 of The Leicester Mercury as a result, does that count?

Is it wealth? If so is it a relative number? Could I be a reasonable candidate for an unemployed lady's TAL somewhere?

Anyhoo, the Future Mrs Adventures and I were discussing such lists this morning. She asked if Kylie was on my list I said no (although I'm sure she's a lovely person) and told her there was only one person on mine.

David Tennant.

The one and only reason I have him on my list is because he's on the FMA's and I know she wouldn't want my cast offs.

I don't think we'll ever meet him, but if we did, Dave would just have to take one for the team (so to speak), in order to safeguard our relationship. I'm sure he'll understand.

NDC

* - To be fair, I don't think it would matter if Angelina was on my allowed list or not. If she decided she was going to shag me I'd be too frightened to say no.

Tuesday, 27 September 2011

17 hours

A beautiful day today, and as of this moment I've seen all of it. Every single minute.

I saw the birth of the new day, wearing the inky blackness of midnight, stealing in on silent tides. I sat and listened to the nagging voices of the wee small hours pointing out my shortcomings*. I was happy to watch the sun rise, burning off the mist and the doubts, promising warmth in the day to come.

And then The Dad stirred. He wandered here and there hunting for clothes, muttering about missing socks and generally being bewildered, although mercifully not in pain. For my part I tried to shepherd him in the right direction, to treat him with respect, trying to talk to the man he was.

He has a range of drugs to take four times a day that would keep Jimi Hendrix, Pete Docherty and Kerry Katona happy for weeks. Every time I hand him the small pot full of pills he looks at them like they're a mixture of Strychnine, Cyanide and Chicken McNuggets. Eventually he satisfied himself that they were acceptable and chugged them all in one go.

After that we sat in his kitchen. I'd fixed up a bowl of Weetabix and a cup of tea for him and as we sat there I chatted to him about what my plans for the day were.

He put down his spoon.

He looked me square in the eye.

He told me to give it a fucking rest.

After that, he carried on drinking his tea. I wandered into the other room and laughed hysterically to myself for a few moments. I went back in to tell him I was leaving for work, he smiled and told me to be careful.

All valid points Dad, all valid points.

NDC

* - Which is always fun, but to be honest they could have spent a lot longer on it. I thought the brief prĂ©cis that they supplied was very fair.