29th April 2007

Kenny's big day out

I'm about embark on that trip out for lunch. I need to get down to the bottom of the drive, and we'd better not need to walk any further than a few yards to get to where we are dining, or I will scream. Like the girl out of Just William (can't remember her name -- maybe Violet Elizabeth?).

Suppose a quick smoke is on order first. Later peeps.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 10:51 BST, by Kenny
 

28th April 2007

What is it with women and phones?

I hate the bastards. If the phone rings, unless I know who it is that is calling, I just ignore it. My mother just keeps on the damned thing and it drives me bonkers...my stress levels go up ten-fold when I hear that phone ring -- she doesn't get it at all. I have enough phone calls. I don't need any twice-daily ring-rings -- not on. Who needs to ring twice a day? Honestly, it's like being stalked.

There ya go -- my complaint for the day.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 18:03 BST, by Kenny
 

Sometimes you have to do things you hate

Tomorrow, I have to go to Knott End, a place that I loved as a kid. I spent every weekend there. Last time I was there was with Nski, looking for a hotel over Easter (how daft were we?). Originally, I turned the offer down on the basis that I didn't want to be seen out with a walking stick, but Die Fuhrer was adamant that she wasn't going without me, given the leg situation. We're crutching each other at the moment. But who am I to deny her a day out? I will probably find it thoroughly miserable (not to mention painful and embarassing) but at least it eases her mind. She's worried about all sorts of whacky shit. You can tell that my brain is not addled -- just the body. In the immortal words of Ste, "it'll be reyt" -- words that annoy the crap out of all my family but ones that I subscribe to.

At least my walking stick is cool. I should take a picture.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 17:04 BST, by Kenny
 

Another Fiona accolade (I know, it must be boring)

I've just been listening to When the Pawn Meets the King...

I'm always doing what I think I should
Almost always doing everybody good
Why-
Do I wanna do right, of course but
Do I really wanna feel I'm forced to
Answer you, hell no
I've acquired quite a taste
For a well-made mistake, I wanna
Make a mistake, why can't I make a mistake
I'm always doing what I think I should
Almost always doing everybody good

I can sympathesize with that.

This girl is utterly brilliant. I am so totally in love with her. She covers all of my three criteria -- great pianist, great writer and gorgeous.

Radical change of subject here...

My mate B and her mate J are coming up to see me later. Very sweet of them. I'm very touched when people take the time to go see non-relatives. I'm closer to B than J -- but apparently J is concerned too. Like I say, very touching. They don't do t'interweb, but I'll say thanks here anyway.

Now for something completely different...

The FF has apparently changed her diagnosis -- she reckons it's a liver problem. I disagree. I had a mate whose gamma GT levels were in the 2500 range and he's still around. And they do fluctuate quite a lot. 168 is not a nightmare, but it's not cool.

Sorry FF, but I'm going with the doc on this one. And your original diagnosis...sciatic nerves.

Oh, FF, thiamine smells horrible.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 16:04 BST, by Kenny
 

Can't stress this enough

Fiona Apple's Extraordinary Machine is a must.

This girl is amazing. I have listened to nothing else for weeks now. She's top drawer. The more I listen to her, the more I appreciate her language manipulation -- she flips meanings like nothing on earth. She should have a blog. I'd be on there every twenty minutes.

And she has the voice of an Angel. I could listen to her forever.

Conversation once colored by esteem
Became dialogue as a diagram of a play for pun (blood?)
Took a vacation, my palate got clean
Now I could taste your agenda
While you're spitting your cud


Either she is batshit crazy or a genius, because I just don't get it. Half the lyrics on this CD leave me baffled.

I asked Nski what some of them meant and even she (being a Yank woman and as good at language as anyone I know) didn't know. Her comment was "it's probably just Fiona jibberish".

I promise that I will be negative about something today, but right now, I'm listening to Fiona again -- she is phenomenal. This has got to be the best album ever. Desert Island disks? This is number one for my selection.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:13 BST, by Kenny
 

Flip-flop returns

Kind of like "Batman Returns" but much more intelligent.

I got an email from El FF late last night, asking for my blood test results. She works in biomeds and is seriously bright but is *so* modest -- "It's been a long time since I've been at Uni".

Her diagnosis is:

Neurology or nerve damage in your legs was what I first suspected but I thought the doctors would have already ruled that out. I bet you damaged the junction to the sciatic nerves or something when you damaged your lower back last year. It's all speculation of course and the only ones who will know for sure are the neurologists - the clever buggers!

That warmed my cockles, as it were. The FF should have been a doctor. She has the aptitude and the empathy.

As I said a couple of days ago, her kid is in for one great life. In contrast to mine, that are brighter than shit but whose circumstances are beyond my control.

Thanks FF -- you're a star.

I promise I will write something negative about something that isn't my health later!


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 09:55 BST, by Kenny
 

27th April 2007

Top doc (continued)

The doc I saw this morning is amazing. She has such perception. She detected a bit of "missing the family" in me and called my little counsellor lass, who called me within a couple of hours. Honestly, Dr Taylor and Ms Davies are phenomenal. And the fact that they were in touch so quickly is very touching -- thanks gals, you're treasures that should have your salaries doubled.

Now for the neurology bit...


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 16:39 BST, by Kenny
 

Rita is always right

Believe me. She is.

I went down and threw the smackdown on the most stunningly pretty doc I have ever seen. She must be fresh out of med school. Her eyes were a piercing blue and she emanated calm and knowledge. Apparently, she trained where I used to work at the Stopford Building in Manchester. I think I'm in love again.

Damn, for a recent med grad, she knows her stuff. After a brief check of vitals (once again fine), she said "neurology -- has to happen". Which, if you remember, is exactly what Rita said.

Bless ya mi'dear. And bless that doctor 'cos she really was drop-dead gorgeous and cleverer than any I have seen in years. When I told her about my legs, she instantly had my kecks whipped off and very gently went through the whole of my lower torso (kind of like a Thai masseuse but more deliberate). She knows what's going on but is too young to be confident in her own abilities, hence the referal.

For now, I have to rely on a walking stick. Dead sexy. Not.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 11:58 BST, by Kenny
 

Bleh!

My numbness of the feet has spread up to my thighs -- we're definitely talking a taxi down to the surgery this morning. It's a bitch. I hate being so debilitated. When I cannot get down to the pub to see Emm, Ste, Yoz et al, you know it's bad.

These people save my sanity. When you're 3500 miles away from your wife and kids, you get a bit stressed. You need your mates around you. Ste kills me with laughter and Emm is just a delight (although I'm not sure she's that fond of me -- soz Emm!). Rob, who has carried me around, is a cracker too.

Right, need to jump in the bath...wouldn't want to gross the doctor out with BO would I?


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 08:32 BST, by Kenny
 

26th April 2007

Another lecture

Die Fuhrer thinks I am a lecherous bastard. If I make a comment about anyone, she jumps on it. I cannot even say that someone is pretty. I could say that Zoe Wannemaker was cute and she interprets that as lust. And God knows, I hate Wannamaker with a passion. Die Fuhrer thinks I just fancy anything in a skirt. If you had my libido, you'd know that is not my bag, baby. Lust is Kate Silverton and Natasha Kaplinski.

I appreciate quite a few people. I love one; the girl I married. She writes like a bugger, is cuter than hell and she rocks me sideways. Good luck with the writing darlin' -- you really have a career there. You're brighter than a button and I look forward to the alimony payments. :) In the meantime, the cash is on its way. :)

Back to the quack's tomorrow. In the full hundred yards to the shop, the legs gave way twice. Bastards. I think I may need to give my diagnosis now and let them disagree.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 19:16 BST, by Kenny
 

Newly discovered Fiona lyric

There's solace a bit for submitting
To the fitfully cryptically true
What's happened has happened
What's coming is already on its way
With a role for me to play

Wow. Tell me this girl doesn't rock the planet. I can't even get my head what she is on about there in the first couple of lines, but I'm damned sure it's clever -- more clever than I could ever get.

Any submissions as to what fitfully cryptically true means, gladly taken.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 15:26 BST, by Kenny
 

Email

Okay, I may be in pain but I can still laugh.

My mate J (who I told you about a while ago -- we try to out-bizarre each other at email sign-offs) just sent me an email.

His latest:

Albert Wheresthat-Fookingliongone III

Doff of the cap Albert -- -that is just class. For those that don't get the reference, it's my favorite poem, "Albert and the Lion". Google it. But you need to read it with a Lancashire accent.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:32 BST, by Kenny
 

MPx and weight

I had one of those moments yesterday where a random act seemed to make some senseless beauty. After Nski's comment about my (crap) MP3 player, I felt some tremendous amount of guilt. So what did I do? Hopped onto Amazon and bought her one. At least I didn't have to leave the house to do it.

Bryony constantly references weight. I can only guess that she is a bit edgy about her own; not criticizing -- a lot of people are -- I happen to like a woman with curves, hence my obsession with Emm (and that does not mean I think you are fat Emm -- I think you are healthy). At the quacks yesterday, I was treated to a lecture on how I weigh too little. I'm bordering on six foot and weigh about 150lbs. How is that underweight? I know that I survive mostly on meat and fruit and probably under-carb, but in a society that ritually over-carbs, I should be held up as a role model. There's nowt wrong with fruit. I eat about a pound of it a day. And Nski will tell you, I can polish off a filet mignon or ribeye in seconds. But now I have to cut down on all the red meat thanks to the cholesterol levels. No beef or lamb? Nightmare. Chicken -- blah, but okay. Turkey -- no frickin' way. I'd sooner have my nads chopped off than eat the blandest meat on the planet. Give me bacon any day.

Roast chicken today. Edible, but not exactly a good steak!


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:28 BST, by Kenny
 

Feet still up in the air

I'd sell my soul for a set of feet at the moment. I can't make out whether they are painful or just numb. Get this for bad: I'm having problems getting downstairs for a smoke. Outrageous.

I'm still quite annoyed that I have seen three quacks now and none of them have managed to tell me what is wrong with my legs. Why do these people get paid so well?

No matter: Nski sent me some prose overnight. If her pro-work is anything like her hobby, that girl will make a fortune and we can both retire to a cave in the West Indies, and just watch cricket every day. Well, okay, I know we'd need cable for my footie fix, but we'll deal with that when we need to.

Off back to elevated legs and muchos cream. Maybe I should try Vicks? What do you reckon?


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 06:17 BST, by Kenny
 

25th April 2007

Top news

Da Missus has landed herself a writing gig. About bloody time. Those that have read her stuff will know how excellent she is. I can't wait to read it.

I'm now even more scared for Z and N. They are going to be so bloody bright that you'll need sun glasses. And that is all Nski. I just happen to be lucky enough to be their father.

Honestly, I am so pleased for Nski. She is so talented and witty, yet American society has ostracised her. Were she over here, she'd have a column in one of the dailys. She really is that good. I miss her writing like hell -- bring it on Missus. I expect the best!


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 22:28 BST, by Kenny
 

Another day in paradise

I spent the majority of the morning in A&E having various reflexes tested and being prodded in places I have no desire to be prodded. It had to be done. Those that know me know that I avoid quacks like the plague, so for me to go see one voluntarily, you know something is wrong.

Nice chap, but similar non-diagnosis. BP fine etc..

"I can Xray your right foot."

Nah, I'll give that a pass. Both feet are numb -- kinda indicative wouldn't you say? Indicative of the fact that's it's not my right foot that is the sole problem. Yikes -- scary.

I am now going to have a final smoke, knock back some ibuprofen and hope that tomorrow morning is less painful. I literally screamed as I left the house this morning.

I also think I need a fantasy...makes sleeping much easier.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 21:31 BST, by Kenny
 

Why dy'd o it

I'm in bloody agony. I made it to Wigan before my legs started giving way again.

Thankfully, my dad is on his way here to take to me the hospital. He's another star. Totally wonderful guy. If there is a better bloke on the planet, I defy you to name him.

I feel awful, but I know my blood chemistry cannot account for what I am going through. Bloody quacks have no idea what they are doing. Hopefully I will see one today who does.

I might need some help to walk though.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 08:04 BST, by Kenny
 

Quickie

...before I dive into the bath, feeling like Mike Tyson has been around, again.

My feet are still number than sh1t. Anything below the knees is knacked. If the quacks can't help you, you self-medicate -- muchos massaging and lots of cream. That is all I have done for four days now.

I guess it will be a taxi from the station to work. There's no way my legs will carry me that far. This really is taking the piss -- no-one should have to put up with such a strain. It's an ache that you cannot shirk.

If there is a God, which I swear there isn't, he/she (look at me, all politcally correct) should be shot for crimes against humanity.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 05:39 BST, by Kenny
 

24th April 2007

The Flip-flop

I love my sister-in-law to bits.

When we first met, she was barely a teenager. I remember buying her champagne for her 21st (the pub had run out so I had to go to the offie across the road), and a grand night was had by all. She really is one of my favorite people on the planet -- she just oozes empathy. She's funny, razor-sharp and adorable. She also has a brain the size of Russia (biochemics etc). Kind of like the brother that isn't the sister that I never had (a bit of Fiona Apple logic there -- we should classify that scientifically).

Her daughter is lucky to have someone so compassionate as the FF.

Don't know where I am going with this at all, but C, love ya mi'dear. You kept me sane for a couple of weeks and put up with my antics. You're a star. Don't ever change -- you are going to affect so many lives for the better. I know when the precipice appears you'll be there telling me to pull my trousers up. ;) Just do it gently.

I just envy her well-adjustedness. She really is special, and I'm not talking short bus.

Having written that, I should say something about B too, because he is another star. B is my "bro" in case you need to know. He's as reserved as they come -- darts and dommies is about the excess of his excess (that could be a Fiona lyric too). He has done some things for me that have literally made me cry, they have been so caring.

Their kid is in for one fantastic life. With parents like them, you're going to be absolutely fine.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 20:02 BST, by Kenny
 

Miffed of Milton Keynes

I've just been reading the comments on Bryony's blog and I cannot get my head around how much pathos there is. It's like an estrogen battle: "I am cuter than you will ever be Bryony but I'll try to insult you anyway".

Get it people. Bryony's column is a commentary, and she is feckin' good at it. When I'm reeling around at 6am on a Thursday morning, her column is the first thing on my mind. If you cannot laugh at what she writes, just don't bother reading it. She's a bloody pro -- there's a reason that she's in that job and I know numerous other "hacks" who have no place to be in print, but Bryony has every place. Her writing style is a la Missus so I am bound to be just a bit predisposed but her topics kill me.

Imagine just writing about random things for a living -- in the real world, we call that blogging but in the media world, it's writing. Credit due, she does write phenomenally well.

Like I've said before, I'd sell my soul for lunch with her -- she writes like Da Missus and is one of the few observant people on the planet. Love her to bits.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:05 BST, by Kenny
 

Guilted into obscurity

I mentioned to Nski about the abject horror I had to face when I deleted my Kate Bush from my MP3 player to make way for the Fiona Apple. (I really need to upgrade).

Her response? "You have an MP3 player? Bastard."

It wasn't malicious, just a sigh I suppose. But it did get me thinking, as things always bloody do. Tell me I'm thick, but my first reaction was to order her an MP3 player. If I'm senscient tomorrow (payday, woot!), I will do so.

It's the same kind of reaction to when B calls me and tells me she has three groats to last her the rest of the week. Down the cash machine...another £40 of hard-earned gone.

I am such a soft touch. Whenever I see people in trouble, I try to help in whatever way I can. Yet there is never any recripocal. Okay, B helped me through a hard patch last year when I was literally falling apart but since then, she has cost me hundreds of quid, which would have been better sent to the States to Nski. The one genuine act of kindness I have seen is was when a reader sent me $50 for Amazon when I was absolutely down and out. Oh, I suppose Rob carrying me around at the moment is another.

At least Nski might have an MP3 player soon.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 14:51 BST, by Kenny
 

Blah and gah!

As you can see from the timing of my earlier posts, I was up well in time for work. I went back to bed after Kate Silverton finished. When I'm in pain, that's what I do -- I retreat.

Die Fuhrer has just read me the riot act. I have to ask myself who doesn't want to crawl back to bed when unwell. If she had her way, I'd be invading Poland. I really do need to find some alternative accomodation. If you think I'm always on about my health, you should meet her. Biggest bloody hypochondriac on the planet. Her answer to everything is "see the doctor". On certain occasions I agree with that, although I have little faith that they know anymore than I do. I have more faith in my sister-in-law's judgement on most things -- our kid is a lucky man to have married someone who is so intelligent, organised and generally well rounded.

I suppose like minds meet. B is as similar as C so their offspring will be rational. Nski's a firey one with a fierce intellect and I'm well-documented as being off the scale -- when Z's results came in at 100%, it came as no surpise -- her parents are both educated and intelligent nut jobs. I fear for what Nico will be like because he showed more cognisence than Z did earlier. He will walk on water, I guarantee it.

BTW Flip-flop...my B12 and folate levels are fine. Gamma GT is too high as is the cholesterol, but neither of those can explain the leg thing. BTBTW -- is folate related to folic acid? I'd never really thought about that before.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 12:27 BST, by Kenny
 

Kudos

It kind of touches me (not in a sexual sense) when people take the time to read my ramblings. Thanks. I'm thinking of a couple of people in particular but I won't name or shame.

As you may have gathered, I have decided to return to the quack today. It's only a half mile but I will need a taxi -- legs are weaker than yesterday. I just went out for a smoke and damn near fell down the stairs thanks to a sudden collapsation of the right leg. Bastard. I can cope with most things but not physical disability. This is just driving me nuts. Up with this, I will not put.

Lard is the answer. No question about it.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 06:48 BST, by Kenny
 

23rd April 2007

Bugger

Something serious is going on.

I managed to make it to Leeds but my legs gave way a couple of times. I actually fell on the stairs at Wigan station -- they just suddenly went from under me. I turned around and came home. They only gave once en-route home. Scary shit though. If you cannot rely on your legs, what can you rely on?

Waste of £50 though. I couldn't be arsed arguing about the fare.

This is all down to the thyroid problem that I have self-diagnosed. As my bestest mate Rita says (and she's right by the way), your thyroid is a bugger and can hit you hard.

I'm off to bed again. All this being ill takes it out of you.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 13:37 BST, by Kenny
 

Oh, go on...

While I have time, I might as well...

Emm, you're allowed to comment dear. It's not a private club where the drinks are cheaper than th'Oddies and you need keycodes and a bizarre handshake to get in (get the reference?).

See ya later mi'duck. You're one of the better ones on the planet.

I write that knowing full well that Emm reads this (oh, and her mates); I had three hits yesterday from her ISP and she has some funky software installed that advertises itself that I have never seen before. So my stats code reads comme ca:

Emma 80.xxx.xxx.xxx 13:45, 22nd April 2007 Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 7.0; Windows NT 5.1; VNIE5 RefIE5; FunWebProducts; SIMBAR Enabled; SIMBAR={xxxx}; .NET CLR 1.1.4322)

Wouldn't want to publish an IP would we? Or a key for that matter. I'm way too security conscious to do that. On that subject, I'm kind of uncomfortable mentioning her full name. I've taken to using initials for people, but she has her web page that IDs her as Emma so I guess it's okay. I just don't want some freaky-deaky stalker turning up here and harassing her -- she has enough to put up with me!

Random thought -- I wonder whether we should have called Zoe Emma? I have always loved the name Emma (Jane Austin flashback, just about here) but it never crossed my mind when Z was on her way. Z is Z now, period. I mean an Emma-bean would not sound anywhere near as good as a Zoe-bean. Another one of life's little puzzles. One of those random things that brings a smile to my face -- "Zoe-bean". I love the name Zoe. And adding a bean to the end of it was genius...thanks, N.

I'm bloody rambling again because I still have half an hour to kill.

Now I really do need to get my arse in gear, after another cig and some breakfast TV (let us all pray that it is Kate Silverton, because I swear national production goes up when she's on -- more journo worship -- I am in the wrong business -- or I'm just lusting after a career in that business). I don't feel the love, but I need to boogie.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 05:32 BST, by Kenny
 

Get in

0-0.

The only thing that could have made my day more is if I had a lie-in this morning rather than waking up at 03:50.

If we assume for a moment that results will go in parallel, this means that even if we lose to Chelsea, we'll win the Premiership on goal difference. And that's because we don't sit back on a 1-0 scoreline like the girly Southern puffters (even though only about two of them are English).

So it's not all bad news. Feet are still number than buggery though -- I may need to have them massaged by a Swedish midget.

And now, away to bathe and get the hell over the Pennines to work.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 04:29 BST, by Kenny
 

22nd April 2007

Is it just me or what?

I've just had another knock-down with my mother.

"You need to go to hospital."

"No I don't. The GP and my blood test results are not going to contradict what anyone finds at the hospital."

"But your feet are numb."

"Yes, they are -- it appears that our great medics have no idea why. I know why because I am brighter than 80% of them."

"You're arrogant."

"That's as maybe, but I'm right. I've proved that when you've been ill."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"Are you deaf? I told you I know what is wrong. No point going seeing a quack who is going to shake their head because they want to avoid a lawsuit. It may come as a surprise to you, but quacks are not that clever really."

"You're arrogant."

"Yeah, maybe. But I'm the one with the maths degree. I think my brain functions fairly well, even if my body doesn't at the moment. You have an A-level in Lit and one in art...you're not going to out-smart me mater. Maybe I know just a little bit more about this than you do -- physics, chemistry and maths dear."

I wish I had never left the US. I should have stayed there as an illegal. It might have cost more for medical care but at least I would have my wife, who I miss like feckin' buggery. Dunno why, but she's playing on my mind a lot. When that happens, I always expect bad news. Call it ESP but I know when something is going on over there.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 12:54 BST, by Kenny
 

Just remembered

I watched Shirley Bassey on summot last night. She sounds just like Fiona Apple. It's eerie. Okay, she's about 40 years older but she still sounds great. I've only ever heard her sing "Goldfinger" before last night, but hell, she has a voice.

There are four ways to melt me: be criminally pretty, write like a bugger, sing like nothing on earth or combine the previous three. If you do, you have me hooked.

There I go -- off being nice again. I really need to reign that in.

Expect more twaddle later. I have no plans so undboubtedly there will be a couple of sherberts and a shower of verbal diarohea.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 11:45 BST, by Kenny
 

It gets worse

I've just been given a lecture. Apparently, my grossmutti (Die Fuhrer) thinks I womanize. I'd gladly womanize with Emm 'cos she's just to die for. I leave the rest of the field to the rest of the field.

That said, I'd just vote for that Segolene lass (in the French election) on the basis that she is hot.

I'm not making any sense today am I? I blame Coca-Cola. I never drink the stuff but have suddenly started.

I've also developed a passion for Suzzanah Reid. Another bloody journo to lust after...maybe Die Fuhrer has a point.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 09:18 BST, by Kenny
 

Gah!

What the hell am I doing awake at this time on a Sunday? I should be knocking out zzz's like no tomorrow for at least another two hours. For tomorrow, it will be a 04:45 start and precious little sleep will have be gained. Arse. I hate being awake when I could be partaking of my favorite passtime.

Yesterday was a lose all round. Not only was the footie a nightmare, but I ended up having a barney with my mate B, who had arranged to meet me but, once again, stood me up. I gave her the proverbial smackdown by phone. I don't understand some people -- well, most people really -- if you say you are going to do something, how can you live with yourself when you don't? If I said that was going to meet you, you can be guaranteed that I will turn up. Apparently that isn't everyone's rule.

The thing that sucks about Sundays is that News 24 is usually pants. It's all Hardtalk and Click -- gutter journalism. I know what software and hardware firewalls do so why tell me, and I have no interest in hearing from some has-been about their take on gay whales or whatever.

Also, the Sunday Telegraph is pants. Pants -- it's the word of the day. It costs a small fortune, has numerous sections you would never want to read in your life and the standard of commentary is nowhere near what you get in the rest of the week. More importantly, the crossword tends to be more crap too.

Jees - I should just write off the day. Unless Chelsea lose of course.

I suppose I should check my text messages first, to see whether B has apologised. She doesn't do t'interweb (probably because she's a tad on the thicker side of sliced bread) so I have to rely on badly spelled text messages. Why do I even bother? I'm a bloody Saint, I tell you. I dosh her cash when her kids are starving yet she doesn't have the decency to pitch up for a drink that I was buying.

You can see that riled me can't you? I think I will sever ties with her now. Too many times. And when she pitched up on my birthday, I ended up paying for all the drinks, doshing her £40 and not even a birthday card. Taking the piss or what?

I think that is enough vitriol for Sunday morning. I'll be back later in a more "giving" mood.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 08:31 BST, by Kenny
 

21st April 2007

Zispin not cutting it

I knew it. Boro are always a bogey team. We scraped a point which means we could have potentially surrendered the Premiership. It's all down to us vs Chelsea now -- a classic six pointer. You can rest assured that day will involve copious amounts of Guinness, 'cos at this time of the year, us football fans start getting very edgy.

I watched Casualty earlier -- bloody hell -- if that wasn't both a tear-jerker and a stomach-turner, I have no idea what is. I know it's only fiction but it's so well produced that you really do empathise with the characters. And whatever they do to replicate operations is truly disgusting.

Still there's always my fave lass on the CD player.

Why did I kiss him so hard late last Friday night? Thanks for the company E!

BTW -- Telegraph had its arse kicked. There were tears coming from the crossword page.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 21:46 BST, by Kenny
 

Heavy posting day

I don't know why but I am compelled to write today. Maybe I've got too many things buzzing around my sad noggin.

I haven't mentioned this before, but a pair of my best friends split up a while ago. I don't know the details, and don't want to. I spent a long time thinking about it. I can see her position because I have known her for years. But I can see his even better; he must be just about bleeding with hurt. I know that pain and it's awful. It's right from just below the sternum. It may be flippant, but all I could prescribe is a few beers and some chocolate.

What is it with me and chocolate? Da Missus would read this and say "you're gay -- it's chick comfort food".

Anyway, I have had to stop thinking about this couple because of the circumstance. I have no desire to feel that gut-wrenching feeling that you get when someone you love walks away -- worst feeling in the world; I would sooner be shot.

Then again, I am obviously thinking about it. I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise. I guess it is on my mind quite a lot. Troubling.

BTW, only half the crossie done -- I must be on a bioryhthm nadir.

Excpect more blathering later.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:16 BST, by Kenny
 

By the way, it's a fact

There is nothing better than lying in bed with your copy of the Telegraph crossword, Fiona serenading you and your laptop within three feet. Oh, and the aroma of your favorite plum sponge wafting all over. And it's Saturday.

Define bliss better than that!

Dammit. Zispin must work. I haven't cried in days. Might do if Boro' scupper us later.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 10:25 BST, by Kenny
 

Harry and Paul

I don't know whether you caught the "Harry and Paul" show last night. That was some of the funniest shit I have ever seen. I sat there with tears streaming down my cheeks. That Jose Mourinho take-off was utter class.

"The referee was a tit" delivered with utter sincerity. So, so true. It was like a real Chelsea press conference. These are my words but "Nothing is ever our fault. We always play well and are robbed by aliens and referees. There should be an investiation into Area 57 because we know that denies us glory. Oh, and Roman is a God...please allow me to pull down his fly."

My guts are still hurting from guffawing. I swear I have not laughed at a TV show as much (I have laughed more at Ste) since Vic Reeves' Big Night Out -- God, now I have the compulsion to go and buy that on DVD. I'm not sure my stomach muscles can take any more, especially when I have Ste to deal with later.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 10:16 BST, by Kenny
 

20th April 2007

Oh well

Another Fiona reference -- I just can't get enough of this CD.

Since my return from El Quacko, I have spent 80% of it lateral. I mean lying down, not thinking "outside the box". The other 20% was spent eating some very nice baked cod with potato salad. I had to get up to go get some cigs, which was a royal pain in the arse. I was quite comfortably clothed in my pyjamas and loving my duvet, when it struck me that I only had a couple of smokes so had to drag my butt out of bed to go and get some. Thank God I had a stash of cash here at the house, or I'd have had to walk about 3/4 of a mile to get some. Either that, or pay £1.50 at the local shop. I'm too tight for that.

My method is uncertain; it's a mess, but it's workin'.

Just picked up on that one; love it to bits. Sorry to harp on about Fiona Apple, but she has got to be the most talented lyricist ever. The more you listen to her, the more you pick out fantastic one-liners. Most of them would survive in print too, which is unusual.

Is there a program to get you off your Fiona Apple addiction? If so, leave me a number -- the A in ADS doesn't stand for Apple does it? If it's not on my MP3 player, it's on my computer or the CD player. If that is not classed as addiction, I don't know what is.

Stupid blokes like me obsess. Bryony's writing, Emm's prettiness. But Fiona's voice is absolutely the most perfect pitch-perfect one I have heard since Karen Carpenter. And believe it or not, it has more soul. She really has rattled my musical world. No-one has done that since Tori in the early nineties.

I had meant to be meeting B tonight but I think I'll take a pass on that one. Reckon I'll sit back with an obvious CD (well, one of three) and a bar of that gorgeous Cadbury's mint chocolate. Okay, I'll throw in a bag of Hula Hoops...'cos I'm just "rad" like that.

Damn, this album just gets better. I've not been so in love forever. She's a phenomenum. I suppose some people are just born bloody talented. Bastards!


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 17:40 BST, by Kenny
 

Listen carefully, I shall say zees only once

I was wrong.

There you go. You will never hear those words from me again.

Thyroxin -- nil points.

Gamma GT -- 168 -- not good at all (about three times what it should be). Which is a shocker because last time I had it checked (about 6 months ago), it was 28. I'm betting that this is an aberration (as is the doc) and she has demanded that I get retested in a couple of weeks, just to make sure.

Cholesterol -- through the roof. Thanks Steve. You know how to kill people, even without guns. :) Got to love butter though.

My mother called to find out my results. She has no idea about anything other than complementary colors (Fiona reference for those paying attention), so forms an opinion based on what you tell her and your lifestyle. What the hell has a gamma GT level got to do with numbness in your feet? I'll tell you. Nothing. But, oh, we have to dissect that one. Far more likely, as Die Fuhrer more wisely said, is that it is cholesterol related.

Yes, we all know I drink and smoke too much. That is my disposition and my choice. I have a fundamental right to treat my own body in any way I see fit.

Mater said "you have earned more than anyone else in the family and yet you choose to use that money to try and kill yourself". Erm. I'm not trying to kill myself at all (that happened about twelve months ago with percocet and some other nonsense). I am just trying to get through a thoroughly miserable time. Yes, I may laugh at Ste and yes, I may laud certain people. Indeed, I still have the humanity to practice "random of acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty". To wit, Aeros. I don't know Tasha from Adam, but she was interested so she got the prize. Point being that you have to learn to cope. If you don't, you'll just die of depression. And if making someone else's day is a crime, I plead guilty.

I take my bloody Zispin every night, for what that's worth, but it doesn't stop me from being deeply sad that I may never see my wife and kids again. Can you imagine that? The prospect of never seeing your spouse or kids again. It's a killer. So when I go and get my brandy and coke at th'Oddies, I feel no guilt about what I do to my body. This is a coping strategy. There are probably better ones, but whatever. To be honest, it's not so much the booze as the company. Ste should be certified as a national treasure. In fact there should be some blue overalls and a pair of steel capped boots laid in Trafalgar Square every one of his birthdays. Oh, and a pint of John Smith's.

I'm rambling again. I'll shut up for the moment. In fact, I'll go back to bed, for I am not crunchy and taste good with ketchup feeling the love.

Cute doc though. Always look on the bright side and all that...


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 10:54 BST, by Kenny
 

19th April 2007

A missed event

I was so going to blog Ste's ass from th'Oddies tonight, but I am so tired I can't remember his wisdom. Maybe I lost it while laughing so much. This guy can reduce you to tears in seconds. He is seriously (and get the irony) the funniest bloke I have ever met. We're talking seconds. Maybe milliseconds.

Emm must think I am daft to be so sensitive but so able to just crumple in fits of laughter. On the one hand I get upset when she's sharp with me and on the other I am laughing my ass off with Ste. Must be a conundrum.

In other news, I get to go find out the results of my blood tests tomorrow. They wouldn't tell me about them over the phone so I presume I have some bad news coming. Like I said, thyroxin...banker.

As Kurt and Stan say, "So it goes".


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 23:11 BST, by Kenny
 

No way

I have got Bryony's cell number.

I have no idea whether to call it or not. I'm shaking like a bloody leaf. Discretion being the better part of valour, I think I will give it a miss. She probably has no interest in talking to me and I would just go into mad-mode if I did call -- can you imagine talking to someone you adore? I'm stunned.

I go into these mad psychoses where I am utterly fascinated with people. Emma and Bryony meet the criteria. Emma because she's cuter than hell, and Bryony because she writes so well. I don't have Emm's cell number but I do have Bryony's, and I am gobsmacked. This is even better than the 7-1 birthday victory from last week. This is like the treble in '99.

I need a smoke. Badly.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 14:31 BST, by Kenny
 

Withdrawal

I've just yanked a post that was written in anger. Sorry about that. My mother had seriously pissed me off in her demeanor towards Nski and I went off on one.

I am fiercely protective of Nski, even though she can look after herself. Anyone who has a pop at her will suffer my wrath, including her mother (who I despise). How any parent can treat their child like she does is beyond me.

Normal service will be resumed after a couple of sniffters down the Palace.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:38 BST, by Kenny
 

Ipaq review

As people who pay attention will know, I got an iPaq phone a few weeks ago. I'm sad to say that I am not overly impressed. During that time, it has reset itself about four times. I mean completely reset, losing numbers, ringtones etc. I suspect I know the cause -- whenever you set up an email account on it, it burps and falls into phone hell. Thank God for ActiveSync, even though that is pants too -- occasionally it saves your arse.

I was trying to email Bryony to say how spot on her column was today, and bang! Dead. Frozen more solid than wooly mammoths. Quick rejig of the battery and it was obvious that it was toasted. I'm sure the girl sat on the train opposite me did not appreciate my vulgar language as I dealt with the bastard. It's now back up and running but sans my fave ringtone. I'll sort that out now.

Bloody Windows CE or Mobile or whatever -- usual standard of Microsoft crap.

Anyone else had the same problems?


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 10:40 BST, by Kenny
 

18th April 2007

More Fiona Apple

Sorry, but this is blowing me away. I have had this CD for a week now and it is kicking my butt. I have never heard anything so good. This lass is phenomenal. I've always been a Kate Bush and Tori Amos fan but this girl blows them both away. She's a fantastic piano player and incredible lyricist.

If you don't have a point to make, Don't sweat it: You'll make a sharp one being so kind, And I'd sure appreciate it. Tell me that is not brilliant. The more I listen to this CD, the more I am in awe. I think he let me down when he didn't disappoint me. She's like your alter-alter-ego when you're in a good mood, but can be angry as hell with it. The whole CD is littered with one-liners that astound you.

I am so in love. She's sharper than a tack and twice as talented.

I got an email from my mate Tasha earlier; she's off to PA or somewhere bizarre, but has ordered Extraordinary Machine on my recommendation. Good on you lass. You will not regret it.

Shame her Aeros have not turned up yet. If there's one thing in this life that you need, it's Aeros. Oh, and Toblerone, but you can get them in Yanksville.

Emma -- your view on Aeros?


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 20:56 BST, by Kenny
 

End of an era

She who cannot be named has expressly forbidden me from reporting on her welfare. I get so many emails asking about her and now I have to shut up. Sorry peeps -- her wishes, not mine. It kinda guts me, but I understand where she is coming from. If I were in her position, I don't think I would want my business aired all over t'interweb. It was different when we were a family unit in the suburbs, but life has overtaken us, and we're scrambling. In fact she's scrambling and I am crawling. And all I want to do is pick her up.

Sorry Nski -- you have my word now. No more Nski talk.

Still love ya gal. You're the best thing that ever happened to me.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 14:27 BST, by Kenny
 

A better version of me

Because the fact in fact, whatever's in front of me is covering my view
so I can't see what I'm seeing, in fact, I only see what I'm looking through.

Wow -- tell me that is not completely mind-blowing. I disappeared in a puff of logic.

The more I listen to Extraordinary Machine, the more blown away I am. This is a work of pure genius. The piano knocks you sideways and the lyrics are unbelievably good.

This girl is in her mid-twenties and has the mind of someone way more senior.

Forgive me while I don my coat, shiver and disappear out onto the balcony for a smoke.

I think the pub at lunch-time is in order. Having been through hellish medical analysis for two days, I guess I deserve a break.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:02 BST, by Kenny
 

17th April 2007

More NHS praise (or not)

Actually, it's not the NHS. It's an independent charity.

Because I'm batshit crazy, I go seeing a counsellor once a month. She's adorable, and so complementary. Lordy, I have never been so lauded; I didn't know whether to blush or punch her for over-estimating me.

We had this conversation that went along the lines of:

K: "In general I avoid counsellors."

K2: "Why?"

K: "Because we end up playing mind games -- whose IQ is higher?"

K2: "Well your IQ is well above mine -- I noticed that the first time you came here. But it's not the point. It's all about empathy and understanding."

K: "????"

Thanks K2 -- you kind of frazzled me but opened my eyes.

She's utterly gorgeous too. She has just a hint of Scouse twang. She has eyes that show deep, deep concern for her patients. Bluer than blue. I know you're not meant to fall in love with your therapist, but if ever there was a case for it, it's sat in Wigan.

Speaking of gorgeous, Emm should be working tonight. That should kick me into gear after losing blood.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:02 BST, by Kenny
 

Blood work

I have to thank the nurse who took my blood sample today. Not only was she criminally pretty and in her early twenties, she was as gentle as a lamb. I didn't even notice the needle going in. As I was bracing myself, she said "job done".

Whatever she gets paid should be doubled. These are the people you need in this world -- genuine carers with people skills. Bless ya darlin' and thanks for not hurting me. After all the failed stabbings to get blood out of me that I have gone through before, that was a breeze. In fact, I took off the swab about ten minutes after I left -- your aim was spot on and you're a credit to your profession.

As people keep saying to me, I'm too appreciative of others. I don't hold with that at all. If you do something well, people should appreciate it. Whether that be being a doctor, a nurse or a hack. One of my favourite people is a doc in Leeds called Clare Ruddock who I have only ever met once, but she sorted me out within an hour while I was bleeding from every orifice. When people are so good, you need to give props.

Nurse lady, I didn't catch your name, but if I am ever in need of ER, I hope you're on duty. You're a star. That was the best treatment I have ever had on the NHS --- wear your uniform like the badge that it is.

The world is full of nice people as well as wankers -- shame we don't seem to be able to distinguish between the two.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 12:34 BST, by Kenny
 

Bad news day

Not only do we hear that the worst massacre in US history has occured, but I get an email from Nski that literally made my bowels move.

She's knacked and there is nothing I can do about it, bar selling my body on the streets of Navy towns. I suppose I could get kidnapped in Iraqi waters and then sell my story, but I'm not that way inclined. I'd sooner blow the bastards to smithereens or die trying.

I don't want to go into details but she will not get her passport back until September 2009. That will mean that we have been apart for over four years. I joke about Bryony and Emma but Nski is absolutely the love of my life: I married her for a reason. There is no-one on this planet who can make me laugh or cry like she can. Those that used to read her blog will know why. Hell, some of you have actually met her and will know how addictive she is. As much as I try, I cannot imagine being with anyone else. She's every bloke's dream.

Maybe I should just thank whatever deity that I had the pleasure of her company for years and that my kids have the most talented mother on the planet. I would give my left one (twice in two days) to be back with her. She's the most brilliant mind I have ever met. She writes like a bugger (affectionate term) and deserves way more than she has. I just wish I could help her more, but she made her bed...

All that said, I'm incredibly sad about the VA Tech incident. As I read somewhere else (is that like the other place?), there's a very definite argument for being armed. If your laws permit gun ownership, you need to make sure that you are adequately protected.

I don't advocate guns but I don't disagree. To be honest, I probably fall in favour of them. Nski could have used one not too long ago and saved herself hell, as well as wiping some shmuck off the planet who had no righht to be here.

Gotta go -- blood tests to be done.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 07:56 BST, by Kenny
 

16th April 2007

Tymps

One of the best songs ever. Blues and some.

It reminds me of Emma. She IM'd me earlier and reinforced my belief that she is Fiona Apple in another guise. Why did I kiss him so hard late last Friday night?. Why did you? Just joking deary. You read me too well.

While I have blood tests to take care of, I actually might manage something constructive. Let's do lunch.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 20:47 BST, by Kenny
 

Quacks

I've just been down to the docs again -- the numbness in my feet was starting to disturb me. Before you start, yeah, I had booked today and tomorrow off on holiday.

Typical though; blood tests. B12 defficiency, thyroid, diabetes, renal activity etc.

It means a blood test tomorrow but, for once, I am not that averse. The reason for this is that I happen to agree with what the doc is investigating. He's going down the same routes I would. It disturbs me when I know that a diagnosis is wrong, especially when it's a diagnosis of me. He knows that there are about four reasons for numbness of the feet (given that I have had no back injury in the last 9 months) and has correctly isolated it to the point where I would have gone.

Best guess? Thyroid. In fact I would put money on it. Tightening of the throat, numb feet, mad nerves? Easy really. Your thyroid controls an awful lot of your body. Thyroxine can be a killer.

You know your body better than anyone and if you have half a brain, you can tell what is wrong. It's kind of ironic though that doctors think they know better. I know exactly what is wrong with me; I'm not daft. I also know the solution, but I need to play mind-games with various specialists before I get what I know needs to be done.

An average thyroid is about 2 inches. If you produce too much thyroxine, your body goes into a virtual apoplexy. Mine has been troubling me since I reached puberty and I know that is what my problem is; it's not hard to identify the symptoms. Anything more or less than that, two butterfly inches long has the capacity to kill you.

I hate blood tests -- the prospect of them sends me daft. And butterflies are bizarre...so we're off into entymological hell again.

Just keep that bloody needle away from me.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:57 BST, by Kenny
 

15th April 2007

Sunday chez Kenny

I've just arranged to meet my mate Rob for lunch at 2. If you're in the vicinity of the Lord Gerard in Ashton at that time, come join us. We'll be the aging hipsters armed with beer and a smile. Rob's about one of the best blokes on the planet: he supervised my O level CDT; the only O level exam I failed. He has never let the subject drop. Should there be a pretty girl in the room, he will undoubtedly bring up the subject of my crass imcompetence with anything that doesn't involve a keyboard.

God bless text messaging.

I'm thinking chicken today for some reason. And it's not even 10:00am -- who thinks about food before noon? Apart from croissants of course. I mean people think about croissants, not that croissants think about food.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 09:28 BST, by Kenny
 

Say it ain't so

Today is going to be bad.

First, I am awake at this time of day -- why?

Second, and I am sure this is a nightmare, the BBC are reporting that Man Utd have put in a £12m bid for the donkey (Michael Owen). We don't need banjos at Old Trafford. We need decent footballers. Please Newcastle, for the sake of my sanity, keep the talentless twit. (If you want, substitute an A for the I in that last statement).

I need to go back to bed. I've been awake for just over two hours and it's all bad news. All I have to look forward to is Sunday lunch.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 07:47 BST, by Kenny
 

14th April 2007

Running late

I am running very late, again. I always do this at weekends. There's a footie match on that I cannot miss but I'm still sat in my bed-clothes, having not eaten and not bathed. Grrr. I need 240 volts up my behind. Concerted effort now...


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:30 BST, by Kenny
 

Extraordinary Perception

Herman Fitzgerald here (Gerald Fitzherman is currently down with the flu -- not very satisfying), reporting to you live from his bedroom while sat in pyjamas and forcing down some more coffee.

I think I have found my favorite lyric of all time. Those that have me on your MSN contacts will have seen it.

I took off my glasses while you were yelling at me once, more than once, so's not to see you see me react.

Love it.

This girl has a bloody attitude. I bet the guys who went to school with her avoided her like the plague. She must have scared them to death.

I can just imagine if she'd gone to my school...I would have probably have been the only person to talk to her. I happen to like women who have creative minds and an attitude. Hell, I wouldn't be married to Nski if I didn't. Science is all well and good but, to be honest, anyone can do it if they apply themselves. Being creative is a true gift. I'd give my left proverbial to have written that lyric. I suppose I should be thankful that I have the capacity to appreciate the talent in others.

During the past twelve months or so, I've met some really pretty women who either were dumber than Arnie or couldn't construct a gramatically correct sentence if their lives depended on it. I've also met some who play the system like nothing on earth...I nearly had a legal run-in with one because she was batshit crazy and must intend making a living out of stupid men who have the audacity to smile at her and wish her good morning. Forgive me for being decent -- I will try my hardest to spill ketchup and kebab down my wife-beater vest prior to cuffing you round the back of the head and vomitting in the lounge next time. In fact, I'll buy you your pint of Carling and black before we step outside and smack the shit out of each other.

It strikes me that there's a lot of feminist writing but is masculinist a word? Is there an equivalent that doesn't have mysogenistic implications?

I have nothing against most women, with the exception of the feckin' nutter I encountered last year and my ex-wife. In fact, most of my best friends are women -- I just seem to get on better with them. Touchy-feely? Not me really. It's that whole left/right brain thing again. In general, I am more relaxed with females. They're more easy-going and less likely to want to smack you into the next dimension because you happen to disagree with their view of Michael Owen's complete ineptitude.

I'm rambling now. If I haven't reinforced it enough, buy Extraordinary Machine. This is every guy's worst nightmare and dream come true. Good job I like my women with an attitude. Fiona Apple scares me but I still love her to bits.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:44 BST, by Kenny
 

Fame at last

Well, okay, a mention on Bryony's blog. It's okay that she used my pseudo-real name since she didn't link it back here. Her article kind of got me thinking as to what I should call myself on here.

My mate J, who henceforth we shall call Obedia Septimus Barleymow Jr, and I always come up with the most ridiculous names to sign off our emails. I think my last one was Augustus Cromwell Senior. It's important in nomenclature terms to ensure one discriminates whether one is senior or junior, and if applicable how many generations of your name have gone before you. E.g.:

Fergal Ramsbottom-Postlethwaite III

My nick on MSN is Hornswoggler in honour of a fiendish clue in the Guardian that my good friend Stan got and then explained to me. I would have disappeared in a puff of logic and given up, but Stan being Stan (this guy habitually batters Araucaria, for God's sake) was not detered.

Rather than "Posted by Kenny", wouldn't it be far more entertaining to change the name randomly to things like "Fernagle Stropp IV" or "Bertram Loco-Motive Jr".

I'm liking this idea!


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:04 BST, by Kenny
 

13th April 2007

Angst and celebs

As per yesterday's post, since when did I sit smelling the roses and being nice about people? Kenny is all about the angst, anger and rage. And here I sit praising all and sundry. Chemicals are a dangerous thing, especially those that are called Mirtazapine. You suddenly start being reasonable, which is not what is expected from a Kenny.

That said, Halle Berry needs to get a life. I don't think I have ever seen anything she has ever been in (was she the chick in the second Austin Powers film?). Talk about too far up your own butt?

[squeak - paraphrase]

"My celebrity life is so taxing that I have to go into chatrooms under a pseudonym, just to get some normality."

[/squeak - paraphrase]

You will note that it is "normality" not "normalcy". Whoever first coined "normalcy" should be flogged for crimes against the English language. Kind of like the illiterate moron who came up with "winningest" -- IQ of a lettuce minus 70 points. Idiots.

You poor dear, Halle. My heart bleeds, especially when you out yourself as a celeb (because, God knows you want some anonymity) and people think you're a "kook". My advice is to ask your incredibly expensive doctor to prescribe Mirtazapine. If it can make me be nice about people, it might make you bloody wake up. Either that or you can overdose on it and spare us your inane dribbling. Jesus. The trappings of earning millions. It must be *so* hard.

I guess I've just blown my nice guy image now. Must have forgotten to take the Zispin last night.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 15:21 BST, by Kenny
 

Vonnegut obituary

I think the Telegraph have done an admirable job. A fitting tribute.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 10:37 BST, by Kenny
 

12th April 2007

Have to do this prior to sleep

I met up with a young lad in his twenties at Piccadilly station tonight. No, it was not sordid. He was a soldier and had been back from Iraq for a couple of weeks. You can always tell soldiers from the kit bags they carry. We got chatting. His stories were horrendous. It's a poxy gesture, but all I could do is shake him by the hand and buy him a pint. This twenty-something has had to to drag fallen comrades' dead bodies to base. How much of a toll must that take on what is tantamount to a youth? He spotted my "Support our troops" wristband and suddenly, it was like we had known each other all our lives. I don't know who was happier -- me because I had met someone who was a real pro, or him because he was appreciative of the support. I am in awe of the guys who go and do that job, and anyone who isn't should be ashamed.

This lad, who is barely more than a whipper-snapper has been and served the cause. He doesn't agree with the war, but he he is determined to do his job and loves the fact that he is part of the best trained military on the planet. He glowed with pride. And I kind of glowed with him...I'm proud that our military are A+. The Yanks may have better ammo than we do, but when it comes to tactics, they are nowhere near us (sorry guys, but our army is the best in the world -- let's talk SAS and see where your Navy Seals lie).

This lad was disgusted by the behaviour of the Navy personnel in selling their stories. And I quote, "They should be locked up and have the key thrown away...you sign that dotted line and you honour it. You are serving your country. Do it."

Surprisingly, he thinks the next major conflict will be another Falklands affair. I bow to his greater knowledge -- maybe they have already been briefed -- he was far too professional a soldier to let anything of any significance past his lips.

Doff of the cap to you sir if you happen upon here, and good luck wherever you get posted -- you do us proud.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 22:08 BST, by Kenny
 

Analysis

It strikes me that I have been unduly positive about most people for the past few weeks. If I'm not lauding a musician, I'm lauding a journalist, barmaid or fellow-blogger. Maybe tetra-cyclics really do work?

Well, okay, I had a pop at Michael Owen, but he is always fair game. Cows' arses and banjos anyone?



Any excuse to bring out the old faithful!

This is not reflective of my general demeanor at all. In fact, I've been a grumpy bastard. I've snapped at several people over recent days although the general principle has been to be positive on here.

I need to find somewhere to live, which means moving my bloody internet connection (which is always a pain in the ass) and, to add to my woes, th'Oddies is shut for six weeks for refurbishment come Sunday. These are the things I have to put up with. I could move in Bryony and share the bills, but London to Leeds is an even longer commute than I have now -- come to think of it, that is not true. It takes me 2.5 hours minimum each way at the moment and I'm sure the last time I did Leeds to King's Cross, it was just over 2 hours.

What the hell is a Kenny to do? No Oddies. I suppose the Bath Springs will be an adequate replacement for the duration. Also, when th'Oddies does reopen, it will be no-smoking. A few weeks prior to the ban. Quelle domage.

The whole world is going to hell in a hand-basket and we appear to be happy to let it go that way. I'm off home, via th'Oddies.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 16:18 BST, by Kenny
 

More Vonnegut

Stan has reminded me of one of Kurt's classics..."So it goes".

Nski has reminded me of another..."Life is no way to treat an animal".


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 15:01 BST, by Kenny
 

This nearly brought me to tears

A Bosendorfer ruined. Those things are the sweetest sounding instruments in the world.

Looks like it's a bad news day all around.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:42 BST, by Kenny
 

RIP

Unless you are completely illiterate or living on Mars, you will have heard the news that Kurt Vonnegut has died. That smarts hard.

Not only was he a singularly brilliant writer, but he was the love of Nski's life. She swore blind that her one ambition was to meet him before he shuffled off this mortal coil. It comes on a double anniversary -- it was my birthday and also the day that Nski's grandmother died. She must be gutted.

I can guarantee that every birthday from now on, Vonnegut will cross my mind.

Ironic that I have just finished re-reading Slaughterhouse 5.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 10:14 BST, by Kenny
 

11th April 2007

Extraordinary machine (reprise)

This thing is incredible. I thought the Man U game was a great birthday present, but this has rocked my little world. This girl has more soul in her pinkie finger than the collective amount of all of the UK. She just blows me away with her voice and her piano-playing. Seriously, you need to buy this if you have a musical bone in your body. It is stunning. Breathtaking is not the word -- I have sat here writing boring emails with goose-flesh as I have listened to it.

I am so in love with this CD. It is literally mind-bending in its construct.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 13:56 BST, by Kenny
 

El Bosso

I should have known better. El Big Bosso is a touchy-feely non-confrontational kind of guy. I went into my meeting with him armed with a boat load of pathos, just in case it should be needed. He was very conciallatory (sp?). In fact, he told me I should just go home given the state that I am in. I insisted that we needed to clear the air and that I should stay.

Turns out we ended violently agreeing with each other. Yet another weekend of worrying when I needn't...I swear, I'll be the death of me.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 13:37 BST, by Kenny
 

Extraordinary machine

My God. Fiona Apple is a talent to be reckoned with. I just received her latest CD in the post, and I am floored. Literally stunned.

I don't know how old she is now, but if she keeps getting better with age, which appears to be the case, I cannot imagine what she will be producing when she's knocking on 40.

Real, real, "Wow". I cannot wait to get this on my MP3 player and hit the train home. It is sublime. I think this is the end of my Kate Bush/Tori Amos worship -- this is too good for words.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:04 BST, by Kenny
 

Footie

Could I have asked for a better birthday present than the result of the Utd game last night? I think not.

7-1. It doesn't get more comprehensive than that, and it could have been more. To say that I am floating on air is an understatement.

Now I have El Big Bosso to contend with...joy.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:15 BST, by Kenny
 

Happy Bidet to me

How am I, you might ask?

Rough as a badger's arse is my response.

But I must overcome such things so as to furnish the lads at work with sustainance. It is customary to buy goodies for the lads on one's birthday. Who am I to break with tradition?

I just hope the bloody train turns up today.

On the downside, I'm due my reaming -- hope I haven't resigned within the next 12 hours.

You may hear more later -- if not, have a good one.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 05:10 BST, by Kenny
 

10th April 2007

Text type

Normally I get really annoyed by text speak but tell me you can read this and not laugh (and in my case, melt):

for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup!! says (17:43):
h.bday 4 2moz

Her other names have been "just press play and watch my life fall apart" and numerous other giggles. This is Emm, by the way. I might see if she fancies a guest blog -- she is almost certain to crack you up.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 18:23 BST, by Kenny
 

The right to give birth

I am literally "shocked and appalled of Milton Keynes" by the Strasbourg ruling that Natallie Evans is not allowed to use her own embryos to give birth.

For those of you that have had your heads buried in the proverbial for the last few years, Ms Evans was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2001. She had six embryos frozen prior to treatment, knowing full well they would be the only way for her to have her own children.

Enter smarmy bastard, Mr Johnston, the father of these embryos. "You cannot have any baby of mine -- we split up."

This is akin to having a kid who is five and saying "oops -- I never wanted kids with you."

WTF? What kind of a selfish bastard does something like that? The poor girl has been through enough. All she wants is a kid and she is asking nothing of you other than your consent. I hope you end up with some nasty assed cancer and suddenly find yourself incapable of having kids, and let's see how you feel.

This girl was gutted. She was sobbing into the microphone knowing that she has come to the end of her legal recourse. Once again Europe proves its complete uselessness. Europe just sucks, and the quicker we get the hell out of it, the better.

I know you'll probably never hit here Ms Evans, but you have my heartfelt sympathy.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:59 BST, by Kenny
 

Bugger

I think I have broken something in my software (written by me) and have lost some posts. Thankfully I managed to ressurect this, which I thought it was worth restoring...

And that Kenny is nearly back to normal...

Multiple random postings on the most banal subjects possible.

I think I've done something really, really bad. About 18 months ago, I built Die Fuhrer a pond. Originally she had three fish in it. After a couple of months, it was down to one thanks to the local feline residents. Since then she has gone back to wartime engagement. She has stopped short of small arms and razor-wire, but the thing is surrounded by netting and cat-traps. I have no problem with that; my hatred of cats is well documented.

My worry is that the poor sole-survivor, that was the smallest of the fish, is now a bloody whale and has to answer to Die Fuhrer's summons. She stamps on the paving at the side when she wants to feed it. And woe be tide if bloody Willy the Whale does not surface; he won't get fed, and all manner of speculation will ensue as to how that "white bastard" (calm your language grossmutti) might have avoided her traps and got her precious fish. I keep saying that they have fish in the pet-shop; I'll call in and pick some up. But oh, no. She is fiercely defending Willy. This is like WW2 all over again for her. Honestly, you'd think this was Dresden.

When the ritual feeding time comes around (subject to strict temperature regulation), I get the hell out of Dodge. If she had a rifle, anyone in the vicinity would get it. Good job her eyesight is not up to much -- she can club me within a few feet but shooting things might be a bit of a chore for her -- wasted ammo and all that.

This fish must be the most looked after fish ever. I really wish they would give her a new guide dog. I joke, but Harmony's passing has rattled her to her bones. Like I said when she had just been put down, I have never seen Die Fuhrer cry, but she did then, like a baby. I said at the time, she didn't cry that much when when my grandfather died, and I stand by that.

The loss of her guide-dog has hit her far more than the loss of her brother (who was executed by the Nazis for not fighting the Russians because he disagreed with the Nazi regime) and the loss of her husband of 40 years.

The focus has now become this bloody fish. Why did I think this was a good idea? Sheesh.

Right -- I'll leave you all alone for a few minutes as a I prepare to go to work of the morrow.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 09:24 BST, by Kenny
 

9th April 2007

Moonbat alert

Okay, there's a report out that says that buying locally produced goods is environmentally friendly (less transport miles etc.). But oh no, moonbats have to pitch in -- poly-tunnels (ie pseudo greenhouses), constructed of polythene to ensure that the heat levels are sustained, are "a blot on the landscape".

Honest to God. Moonbats are a bloody blot on the landscape. You cannot have it both ways. The world shifts to cater for your mad ideas and you still moan. I really do think it must hurt when you breathe.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:24 BST, by Kenny
 

Night-time attire

I have discovered that I get to sleep quicker when I have something over my head -- no comments about plastic bags please.

This leads to a dilemma -- do I become a night-time hoodie or do I wear my thinsulate hat?

I have visions of buying one of those ridiculous Victorian Jacob Marley things that flop down with a bobble on the end. It would certainly reinforce my eccentricity, although no-one would ever know apart from Die Fuhrer.

Picture it.

Kenny awakes in the middle of the night, desirous of the commode. His nightgown wafts in the draught that comes from somewhere he has not located the source of. He lights his candle and stumbles the three feet into the bathroom and deposits said candle by the commode. Head held low, his bobble nightcap falls into the candle and suddenly there's a blazing inferno. He legs it out into the bitter cold, armed with a bucket to the well. He returns to find that the draught has exacerbated the flames and that there is no need for a candle now. A half bucket of water and it's under control. He completes the process he started and re-retires, minus what hair he has left, and spends the rest of the night awake, phenomenally aware that he has no bobble nightcap, but that they are a fire hazard so are a no-go.

I tell you; these are the things I have to put up with. I'll trade you your brain for mine any day.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:47 BST, by Kenny
 

8th April 2007

More

It's calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion.

The more I think about my internet communications, the more it astounds me. Tonight, I have been chatting with someone I have never spoken to but frequents the same pub as I do. Bzzzzz. Wake up Kenny. L has been so nice about my writing that I might stay up an hour longer; I missed her in the pub, but next time I see her, she's got a couple lined up.

It's amazing how you end up meeting people thanks to t'interweb, whether they be in another continent or ten minuutes down the road.

Thanks L. You'e a star. And cuter than a biscuit.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 21:43 BST, by Kenny
 

Conned

I was on MSN earlier thinking I was talking to Emma. Turns out I was talking to Lauren, her friend, and her fellow boozing buddy in th'Oddies. She has been reading this for a couple of months now and was so complementary. I had no idea. I've been walking into th'Oddies thinking I know who reads this, and suddenly I'm wrong. I haven't even said hello to this girl but she has been so sweet. Thanks Lauren. You've made my day.

I'll get some scran down me and then hit th'Oddies and the beers are on me.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 19:01 BST, by Kenny
 

An excited Kenny

I've just been on Fiona Apple's website and realized that she has a new album out, so guess whose flexible friend has been out? Yup. Mine.

While I was on there, I checked my CD case (the one I brought back from the US) and was disgusted to see I had left When the pawn... there, so I figured I would order that as well. I came to the checkout and, including postage, guess what it came to. Less than £14.

Now I need to decide what I want to delete from my MP3 player in order to fit these two works of art on it. I'm assuming that her new stuff is as good as her old.

They should be here on my birthday (rather, I have had them delivered to work) so that should be a nice present to myself. I don't care if I get nothing else. I nearly ordered the Amy Winehouse CD but looking at my bank balance, I was not inclined to waste another £10. A dose of Fiona after a reaming (on my birthday of all days) and possibly resigning will be just the trick. Sweet!


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 16:29 BST, by Kenny
 

A confused Kenny

It has just dawned on me, I can't remember whether I'm meant to be at work tomorrow. I have scoured MSN all day looking for a colleague to ask. I had assumed (from distant memory) that Easter Monday was a bank holiday here, but I'm starting to doubt myself. Maybe I'll text someone...

Oh, and my pet-hate phrase for the day is "work-life balance" -- I just want to nuke places when I hear it.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 15:11 BST, by Kenny
 

Now for something completely different

It is a not so well-known fact that pigs love cigarette smoke (I must be a pig). My mate discovered this while doing his PhD in pig psychology. True story.

The reason that I mention this is that the Great British public are baying for books (allegedly) by the captured Navy personnel.

At first I thought the announcement by the MOD that they could sell their stories was a rather magnanimous gesture. After all, they have had a rough ride; having guns cocked behind them while blindfolded; why should they not get a little joy out of it all. Then I had my nasal spray, followed by some smelling salts and finally some snuff. I then drank a gallon of tea while smoking a few tabs and it suddenly dawned me how abhorrent an idea this is.

All our soldiers, on a daily basis, do patrols knowing full-well that there could be guns being cocked as they walk down a street or a remote control button could be pushed. It is no more or less frightening.

Fair go. Once they are demobbed, they should be able to write their books but at the moment they are in active service and should behave as such.

It turns out that, according to the BBC poll, most of the British public agree they should not be writing books while on active duty and it's the media and book companies that are driving this.

Maybe my mate's PhD thesis was wrong. Perhaps pigs don't like smoke.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 12:30 BST, by Kenny
 

7th April 2007

Oh yes

I really should answer my own questions:

1) Who would you sing sing to sleep? My first answer would be my kids. My second would be Emma, 'cos, for some reason I detect something not right in her life.

2) SUV or envirofriendly car? Feckin' SUV babe.

3) Major or minor chords? Minor.

4) Favorite love song? "Iris" by the Goo-goo dolls. It reminds me of a harsh winter in Illinois.

5) Piano or guitar? Erm, do I need to answer?. Piano, numpty.

6) Disposal or fogiveness? [Obvious poll there] -- Abstainance but we all know don't we?

7) Favorite item of clothing (come on, we all have one)? My Tommy underwear -- more comfy than you can imagine.

8) Your preferred term of endearment (eg darlin', love, honey, babe etc.)? Definitely "darling". If I call you darling, you know you have me on a pile at your feet. I never use that term unless I utterly love someone.

9) Blog or book? Blog, deffo.

10) Favorite scent? White musk -- melts me.

11) "We're doing this properly". Discuss. I'll let someone else answer that. I know the answer but I'm not going to embarass myself.

12) Too much or too little blogging makes Kenny a dull boy (keep in mind it saves him a fortune)? That's all you darling.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 22:55 BST, by Kenny
 

Bugger you lot. ;)

Okay, here's my meme...

1) Who would you sing to sleep?

2) SUV or envirofriendly car?

3) Major or minor chords?

4) Favorite love song?

5) Piano or guitar?

6) Disposal or fogiveness? [Obvious poll there]

7) Favorite item of clothing (come on, we all have one)?

8) Your preferred term of endearment (eg darlin', love, honey, babe etc.)?

9) Blog or book?

10) Favorite scent?

11) "We're doing this properly". Discuss.

12) Too much or too little blogging makes Kenny a dull boy (keep in mind it saves him a fortune)?

There ya go -- have at it.

K. xxx


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 21:25 BST, by Kenny
 

The big taboo

As most of us all know, I have a tattoo. Die Fuhrer went Brazil-nuts when she first found about it. She must have forgotten.

I've just got out of the bath, heading all of three feet to my room. She spotted it (blind or not). She went mad and gave me a clubbing around the back of the head. This is some achievement seeing she is nearly a foot and a half shorter than I am. I spared her the embarassment of giggling -- she could barely reach and she's over 80 so she really isn't going to do me any damage.

All it did was remind me that I love the smell of tattoo goo and make me dig it out. It's not quite as sickly as hippy goo (patchouli) but is lovely.

I got the tattoo for a reason and, in computing terms, I abstracted it such that it would not be a burden were its original meaning rendered stupid.

Right, I'm off down the pub now to play some pool and watch the Utd match.

A Bientot.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:21 BST, by Kenny
 

Here's a thought

Should I start a meme? I'm sure I could tongue-tie quite a lot of the blogosphere with my deeply incisive questions.

Any more than 3 comments (not including my own) will trigger it.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:38 BST, by Kenny
 

My stromata

I've managed to get out for essentials so things must be on the up. I've even managed half the crossword-- not bad for a Saturday.

There's a Utd game on later so I'm going to try my hardest to get out for that. There is no excuse for missing football. I might even even bump into Emm to say hello.

Honestly, you need to meet Emm. She's quite the lass.

In the meantime, I'm on for some food, a kip and then a bath prior to hitting th'Oddies to watch the game. Emm - curry offer is an open one.

I worry about people I know reading this. Anyone who really knows me knows that it's all done in "the best possible taste". It's just a brain dump. Kind of like the stuff you think but censor. Same way that I blast off about work, I obsess about the people I like -- it's kind of like the fact that I would like to shoot this Steven guy in the US but I would never. If you can put up with your wife having an affair and not go bat-shit, I'm sure you can write about people you like without any intimidation in their direction. Hell, I wouldn't have the energy to stalk anyone or be stupid enough to do it on a blog, or anywhere else for that matter.

I hope that those people I write about understand. For the most part, I keep you unidentifiable, unless you're a top journo that I will probably never meet (that's public knowledge). You're all a top bunch, unless I say otherwise. :)


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:34 BST, by Kenny
 

Another meme

Another meme via Cheleblog

1. What's your favourite colour? Green

2. What's your favourite food? Duck

3. What's your favourite gemstone? Garnet

4. What's your favourite season? Summer

5. What's your favourite flower? Gazania

6. What/who is your favourite band/singer? Fiona Apple

7. What's your favourite song? Never is a Promise

8. What's your favourite movie? The Pink Panther

9. What's your favourite TV show? Spooks (MI5 in the US)

10. Do you belong to any fandoms? I have my own fandoms but no-one else subscribes

11. Do you have pets? Sadly no longer

12. What is your preferred music style: country, classical, metal, heavy metal, rock, emo,oldies, some other type not mentioned? Anything with a good piano

13. Name 3 likes. Th'Oddies, lying in bed watching good drama, reading Bryony Gordon's blog and columns. Can I add a fourth? Cryptic crosswords.

14. Name 3 dislikes. Corporate demarkation, being talked "at" rather than "to" and Islamic nutters

15. How do you describe yourself? Normally quite happy go lucky but the last couple of years, maudling

16. What's your dream career? Definitely journalism

17. What famous person would you most like to meet? Kate Bush or Tori Amos

18. What is your favourite book? Wuthering Heights

19. Who is your favourite author? Douglas Adams

20. If we were stuck in a room for a while, what would you talk to me about? Music and journalism

21. What book did you read most recently? The Good, the Spam and the Ugly -- advert over to the left -- killer humor

23. Place your favourite song lyric here. Please include an artist and the song. "A Pale September, I wore the time like a dress that year. The Aututumn days swung softly around me like cotton on my skin." -- Fiona Apple -- "Tidal" -- "Pale September". I can't get over the fact that she wrote that being younger than 18 -- utterly brilliant. I could also have cited "Keep me in your pocket" by Charlotte Martin.

24. Would you post this in your journal so I can reply? I did but I didn't have the patience to link it after all that effort!


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 10:22 BST, by Kenny
 

Ridiculous sports season starts

Today is the "Boat Race". Hooray Henrys versus Hooray Harrys. Yup; Oxbridge's finest will be battling it out on the Thames. If you had a bad nights sleep, switch it on and get another couple of hours in. Tedious, elitist nonsense.

Next weekend it's the Grand National. The nation will spend more on that one day on bets on race-horses than any other. Horses will fall, some may be killed, jockeys will be injured, a lot of people will lose a lot of money to the bookies, but none the less, we all go daft and have a punt. A few years ago, I got first on a straight bet and third on an each way. Get in. I won about £50. I was fresh out of Uni so that was a lot of cash.

I'm not sure whether I will partake of a flutter or not. Gambling is not really my bag. Although I do have a good tip for you, if you're interested.

On the subject of racing, it's Haydock Park today which means that Ashton will be teeming with idiots. To be avoided at all costs during the course of early afternoon and a no-go-zone this evening.

We then have a lull until Wimbledon in June, thank God.

I'm sure there are some equally ludicrous events twixt Aintree and Wimbledon, but I'll probably not notice them until they happen (having wiped them from memory).


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 09:19 BST, by Kenny
 

6th April 2007

Bed sores

I had considered going down to the local boozer tonight but I have given that idea up as a bad one. It would involve hopping in the bath. I've just been out for a quick tab, and I have come back shivering like a bugger. Not the wisest idea to be going out and spreading the wealth, fresh out of a hot bath and freezing my arse off. We'll see what tomorrow holds.

Anyway, there's a Pink Panther film on shortly, and no-one with any marbles at all would want to miss that. I could have Bryony and Emma knocking down my door begging me for a threesome, and I would ignore them. Some things are just too damned funny to be ignored. All other things can wait for a later time.

Speaking of hilarious, I know it's taken me a while, but Steve's book is priceless. I've looked like a monumental prat in various situations as I read it. You name it, I was giggling my socks off there. The postage cost me at least four times what the book did but je ne regret riens.

Speaking of monumental prats, I am sat listening to Yes, sir, I can Boogie. Ooh, and now I'm on Suzi Quatro's Can the can. Man, I had forgotten what a good looking lass she was. She's probably ninety now. Okay, in her fifties anyway. A woman who can play bass? Got to be loved.

Anyway, I'm going to be a home-body rather than risk relapse and infection of my compadres -- they will thank me for it. As will my bank manager. And Emma.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 19:08 BST, by Kenny
 

My family and other animals

Sorry to shamelessly thieve a title by Gerald Durrell, but it is about an apt a title as anything I could think of.

About an hour ago, I was lying dozing, feeling about as lively as a panda bear. Knock on bedroom door. It was my mother. "Happy Easter" and a hand appeared around the door with a box of Thornton's chocolate gingers. It's sweet but I am 38 next Wednesday -- I think if I need candy, I can source my own.

And because I was duty-bound, I went downstairs for half an hour. My mother doesn't talk to you; she talks at you. Thirty full minutes of mindless twaddle about people I don't know. Like I care? Okay, there was an update on my niece in amongst there that was mildly amusing, but the rest is just gossip. If I want light-hearted banter, I can go to the pub (well not at the moment) or there are other avenues that I can pursue, and at least it will be funny.

I got the usual "you have to go and see a doctor" spiel. One, I don't have to go see a doctor at all -- I can sweat it out without some quack dishing out pills that will be neither use nor ornament. Two, I'm a grown man; I do what I like. And if that means I spend Easter flat on my back, so be it; I'll have made my bed (metaphorically) and I'll have to lie in it.

My dad is a staunch Telegraph reader too. He sat in the garden by the pond that I built for Die Fuhrer and did the crossword. He just switches off when my mother goes into gossip mode. I'm not allowed to do that as she looks at me as being her arty-farty successor, because I have been proven to be able to communicate (my brother communicates by grunts or by turning bright purple when something annoys him). I went out for a smoke to escape the gallons of hot air. I asked my dad whether he had read Bryony's column. My mother must have overheard and came flying out to tell me my dad's opinion on her: "Your dad doesn't think much of her. He thinks that she just takes a subject and hammers it to death."

Sheesh. I looked over towards Pater and just got a raised eyebrow. I mean, how can you hammer a subject to death if you have a short column once a week? If she warted on about the same subject, week-in, week-out, I could understand it, but she doesn't.

Sorry -- went off on one there defending Bryony.

The point is that my mother and father are the most mismatched couple ever. She, a retired art and English teacher; he a retired chemical engineer. It explains my 50/50 left, right brain. It explains why I have the ability to communicate. It explains why I love pre-Raphaelite art. It explains why I'm a mathematician. What it does not explain is why I cannot stand being gas-bagged at.

As I said recently, I'd sooner subscribe to the gossip and speculation I want than have it thrown at me.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 11:35 BST, by Kenny
 

MSN

Life is slowly returning. I can't see me bounding around Easter Egg hunts, but I might make it out to do some essentials shopping tomorrow.

Regardless, the point of this post is that I've been meaning to let you know about one of the funniest statements I have ever read for some time now. It's the advertized name of one mi'learned colleagues on MSN:

"There's a disruption in the thyme-spice continuum."

I defy you not to giggle.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:56 BST, by Kenny
 

5th April 2007

Funk starts to lift

And I mean the metaphorical funk, not the flu or the unpleasant aroma of someone who has spent the day in bed once more.

Stan's post cheered me up enormously. To celebrate cracking a wry grin in the direction of Wilmslow (how posh?), I banned a bunch of IP addresses from getting onto here. Someone from work has been countering the fact they cannot access this from work by using their mobile. Very clever. But we're talking Kenny here...you have to be smarter than that.

I've said this before but how weird is it that people spend the time to decode your alias into your real name and then actively seek out your blog? It's not like I'm famous. It might just be that one of the lads who does know about it was bored while in the lav, but whenever I have bust-ups with people at work, my blog is cited. I don't know why they bother -- only the people I work with, am stalked by or know personally know who I work for. Whatever I say here is disclaimed up at the top left. A further disclaimer is that when I get ill, I get narky. It might be that next week will be a very reasonable discussion, in which case I will not throw my toys out of the pram.

Anyway, thanks Stan -- come back and do some guesting anytime.

Oh, and check out Bryony's column from today's Telegraph. And she's a smoker too -- things are looking good folks. All I need to do now is find out her stance on Boddingtons Ale and a good brandy and we have the makings of a match made in heaven. In the Free Republic of Stan, of course.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 16:06 BST, by Kenny
 

Navy crew home - BBC annoys

As I have laid flat on my back again, I have been watching the coverage of the safe return of the 15 Naval officers. Insert sigh of relief here.

However, because I am ill, small things irritate me. Ben Whateverhisnamis used the word "royal" more than he did "the". It was annoying beyond belief. Example:

"As we watch these 15 Royal Navy officers and Royal Marines arrive back, they will be greeted by a Royal Naval Officer and Royal Marine Commander and then flown back to a Royal Navy base in Devon by two Royal Navy Sea-king helicopters."

How infuriating is that? I presume that either he is a monarchist pedant or he had time to fill and nothing to say. Either way, it was the crappest piece of reporting I have ever seen. And that's my observation while my brain is scrambled...imagine if I had been on form.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:59 BST, by Kenny
 

The Most Serene Repulic of Free Stan

Stan here .

Stressed out with your work ?

Obsessed with pretty young journalists ?

Then come to "The Republic of Free Stan".

Our world-leading press-freedoms mean than more than half the population are journalists.

Year-round sunshine is guaranteed in this part of the Carribean (well, apart from the six-month long hurricane season obviously) and rail-travel is banned. Everyone can walk to their place of work (usually a newspaper office) within five minutes.

International travel is possible from the newly built Guiltwhatguilt? airport, although as yet the only destinations are Wigan and Minneapolis.

Cryptic crosswords are part of our national curriculum and police rigidly enforce a MINIMUM blood-alcohol level in adults, as it is well known that sober people commit the worst crimes (as well as being just a bit tedious).

Free Stan - if only !


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 08:05 BST, by Stan
 

4th April 2007

Day from hell

I sometimes wonder why I bother with anything at all other than looking after myself. As I said earlier, feeling like shite, I did the 2.5 hours into the office to get a load of abuse. I have a meeting with El Big Boss next week on my birthday during which I fully expect to get reamed -- if it goes the way I expect it to, that's it, no matter what. I was that mad, I called my old CEO to see about that position: it's still open but he needs to win some minds.

He's an absolutely cracking bloke as anyone who has ever met him will attest. And smarter than a tack. In fact, he's so sharp it must hurt looking at a menu. We're talking a PhD in bio-chemistry, when the Spanish ran out of doctors they allowed him to operate and over three start-up companies that were sold on for millions. That is how good he is. A veritable genius. My first wife hated him and spent our wedding day insulting him -- way to go! If anyone can win over minds it's Dr B.

Anyway, after the shite at work, I was flagging and decided to come home, seeing there was feck-all to do anyway. Unfortunately it's bloody Easter hols for the kids so they are running rampant; apparently all over the train line at the station I get off at. Little bastards. I was literally falling down tired at Wigan Wallgate and had to stand up for over 30 minutes while they shot them or whatever they do (I would just mow the bastards over -- ammo is not cheap).

To top it all off, I have to meet up with B & J again tonight. They want to talk about something. My stomach has sunk even lower than it had done upon news of the meeting with El Big Bosso.

I need to get out of this rat-race crap. All I ever wanted was to grow flowers and write random scribblings. Okay, maybe dabble on a PC every now and again. Instead I have a wife and kids to support (I forget how many now -- depends on how many times Natalie and I looked at each other). And that means that I have to do what I am nominally good at. That said, as I said, it's a two way street -- if there's nowt to do, there's nowt to be measured on other than your time-keeping, which is, again, ridiculous.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 17:46 BST, by Kenny
 

I'm going to go off on one here

I'm still well under the weather but I managed to drag my sorry arse into work. I spend 5+ hours a day travelling. There is a good reason for that; living on my own not only drove me batshit crazy, but I neglected such things as eating. I need someone to force me to eat. Not because I have an eating disorder, but because I have an appetite probably once every couple of days.

Anyway, I arrived at the office to get from the rumour mill that my name is mud for time-keeping. If I actually had anything to do, I would care. As it happens, I'm middle-managing something that doesn't need middle-managing. And it takes up less than an hour per day. I refuse to spend time sat at my desk reading crap emails about people's gerbils just for the sake of spending time sat at my desk. How utterly ridiculous. The term "redundancy" springs to mind, but oh no, we're recruiting. Fecking brilliant business idea...I hope these people never do a start-up; their venture capital would evaporate quicker than gasoline.

I've just emailed my boss and said that I am within an inch of resigning and given him a proverbial earful. You cannot have it both ways -- you either give me some work or you cut me some slack. When I was in the US (and Nski will attest to this), I worked 9-10 hour days and then came home and did another 3 or 4. I'm not work-shy by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it has been known for me to do 24 hours straight just to make sure something worked.

Anyway, having said all that, you can tell that I am well pi**ed off. I'm still bloody ill and I really don't know why I made the effort to get in here. I'm going home after lunch. If I don't calm down, I will resign tomorrow. Utterly, utterly, fecking ridiculous.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:37 BST, by Kenny
 

The great escape

Right. I'm up and about to hit the bath, hard. I am then going to attempt to get my three trains to work. We'll see whether the body is as strong as the mind.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 05:39 BST, by Kenny
 

3rd April 2007

More boring posts

There's a weather guy on News 24 who kills me. He is so enthusiastic about it that he must be gay. Weathermen are always gay. Carol in the morning is always smiley but when it comes to absolute devotion, this guy takes the biscuit. He just rants about the weather. It's better than drama.

He's just been on and said "there's a bit of a front up here but don't worry about him". You cannot listen to that and not laugh. Well, maybe you need to see the video. Utterly priceless.

We all know my sexual preference so I feel comfortable in saying that I love this bloke. I really must find out his name. He's a gem. There should be a fan club. I'd join in a heartbeat. Update: I think he's called Dan Corbett.

Back in the eighties, there was a bit of an anthem; "John Kettley is a weatherman". We need something as a tribute to this bloke. He's a giant with an, as yet, undervalued contribution to comedy. I've been re-reading an awful lot of Oscar Wilde recently and the phrase that springs to mind when I see this guy is "the only excuse for being occasionally a little overdressed is to be constantly overeducated".

My mate B reckons I am too much of an addict. There's no harm in enjoying other people. I have well documented my love of Kate Silverton over many years. And since I discovered Bryony, I've been quite vocal about that. My mate Emm is one the most gorgeous people I have ever met. And now, shock of shocks, I like a male weatherman. It just shows where it comes from; appreciation. When people do things well, you notice.

There you go -- I don't just worship female journos.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 17:23 BST, by Kenny
 

The product a sick mind

I've been thinking -- never a good thing when I'm drugged up to my eyeballs with a combination of lemsip, paracetemol and a delightful orange/lemon/honey/brandy combo.

My first thought, random though it is, is with reference to a purchase I made early last year. I bought some Eternity for Men aftershave. As part of this monumentally large transaction, they very kindly threw in a deodorant stick. It proudly boasts "alcohol free". Why? Why would it make any difference? Driving under the influence of deodorant? PC reaches a new daftness.

I prefer Tommy Hillfiger anyway. I don't know why I bought it. I guess I was reliving my time in California when I discovered a whole new world. Raleigh be damned...I discovered it, via a business class seat on Virgin airlines.

My second thought is in reference to the hostages in Iran. And it's not quite so flippant. His Tonyness is actually playing a very clever game and choosing his words wisely. He opens with an appeal for dilopmatic arbitration and then follows it with that if that fails, "it will escalate". Whether he means bilateral sanctions or multilateral sanctions or, maybe even military action is open to interpretation. The "tell" though, is his eye-movement. There is a theory that if you look to the right you're remembering something whereas if you look to the left you're winging it. Maybe that is the wrong way around. He did both. You decide.

See -- not a single mention of journos. Cold turkey is hard.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:15 BST, by Kenny
 

Same old

Sorry to harp on about health issues, but I'm starting to get troubled. A few weeks ago, my right foot went numb. Parental direction said "go to the doctor". As we well know, I hate doctors so I ignored their advice. That numbness has now spread to anything below my knees. I may have to go see the quack after all. There's an obvious cause which is that my blood pressure is too low -- an obvious answer too; aspirin. Guess I'll try that before burdening the NHS. It could be a side effect of the flu, but I doubt that. I have enough medical knowledge to associate symptoms.

The good news is that Kate Silverton is looking absolutely stunning this morning. Good Lord. I love that woman to bits. She just oozes happiness. Her voice is gorgeous. I love her laugh too...I should shut up again -- already broken my pledge to silence my media coverage twice in 24 hours.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 08:55 BST, by Kenny
 

Up but not functional

Okay -- signs are getting better. I managed to get up when I should. Problem being that every bone in my body is aching. And probably next door's bones as well. When I was in the US, Nski and I used to, without fail, get to this point every Thanksgiving. It was like clockwork. Honestly, I used to dread Thanksgiving -- flu and James Bond movies. We used to lie in bed with poor S bringing us water at regular intervals.

Tasha raised an interesting point. We forget how bloody invaluable the BBC is. When I was in the US, I longed for BBC news (not the crap they air on BBC America). News 24 is my channel of choice. I miss Kyra Phillips but hell, give me the BBC anytime. I also missed the Telegraph; I toyed with the idea of subscribing to the weekly international edition but it seemed like a bit of an indulgence.

I'm back into press-analysis. It's been less than 24 hours and I have already broken my promise. I should shut up.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 06:38 BST, by Kenny
 

2nd April 2007

Off the planet again

I've been listening to Fiona Apples's Tidal again. My God. She wrote this when she was 18. How the hell do you get to be so brilliant by 18? I'll have to ask Z that. Honestly, it knocks me on my back -- her vocals are just like a punch to the guts. Her piano playing is divine.

I have two passions in life: music and writing. I can leave the techie stuff. I probably need to.

My boss told me last week that I don't want to be here. On some levels, he's right. I have far more affinity with the arts. That scares me. I've always thought myself a scientific type.

Am I about to enter into a world I know nothing about?

It could be just the flu talking but I am seriously considering a career change.

It's not unprecendented -- Steve has done it. He's got a book deal.

Gah, need to sleep.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 23:38 BST, by Kenny
 

Love it

Read this and tell me that this woman is not to die for. She writes a few hundred words and has me in stitches.

"things may be bad, but at least I am not a meerkat".

That, right there, is comic genius.

Maybe I just think the same way and 99% of people just don't get what she writes. After all, she does get some flack in response to her columns, which I always end up violently agreeing with. I am so in tune with her thinking, even though we do such different jobs.

She may have rattled that off the top of her head for the sake to have written something, but nevertheless, it's good. Sometimes, on a good day, I pull something out of my ass and it's funny. Bryony does on a daily basis.

I particularly loved "I glassed him". Commenters went off on how irresponsible it was to say such things. If you read The Telegraph, you're probably not going to be the type that glasses people. It's called humor! I read it like the "Reader, I married him", but that will be lost on 99% of the world (ref earlier point). I emailed Bryony and told her that even if she wasn't thinking that, she should make sure that she at least looked like it.

It has suddenly just struck me that my blog is starting to sway towards journo appreciation and bashing, which is not where I want it to be. I'll try to stop being an apprentice hack. I'm just fascinated with the whole game. As I said to Tasha, I had some media training with a guy from the FT, many years ago now. It completely changed the way I thought. I suppose that is what got me into print philosophy. It certainly changed my view on literature. Prior to that session, I had paid attention to grammar etc., but I never knew how to really write. Some people are born that way. Others, who are more scientific in our demeanors tend to leave it to the pros. Even though we're secretly aching to do it ourselves.

No matter -- I will try to hold back on journo adulation and bashing.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 20:39 BST, by Kenny
 

Talent

I've just been on IM with Stan. He pointed me in the direction of Cruella. The word "feminist" kind of put me off at first in that if you are male and arguing with a feminist, you are doomed. You absolutely cannot win. As I have said before estrogen inhibits logic, and if you're that loaded with the stuff that you become an extremist, there is no way you're going to see any form of reason. That said, I like this lady. She's sharp and she probably knows which end of a pencil to use. I by no means agree with her on the sports argument but you have to hand it to her that she can write.

Speaking of writing, I shall be adding links to a couple of blogs later. One being the aforementioned Cruella and the other being Tasha's blog which is a bit of a hoot.

Toodles.

PS: Spent the afternoon sleeping following the exhausting effort of walking the full half mile to the post office and then eating lunch. When will this thing just give it up as a bad job? I don't intend dying so it really needs to sort its bloody priorities out.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 18:23 BST, by Kenny
 

Limp

I made it down to the post office with Tasha's little bundle. I nearly fell into the doctor's surgery but I remembered that I hate doctors and managed to limp in a different direction.

Strange how the ratio of postage is always three times the value of the goods inside. I should look into that; there's probably a great business there.

I also summoned up the energy to sidle the extra fifty yards from the post office to the Co-op to get some cash. I was leaning to starboard all the way and coughing up more than my lung capacity. A very endearing thought for you all, no doubt.

Regardless, I have returned relatively unscathed and probably minus a few pounds of phlegm. I intend dining on some lamb fritters and then hitting the hay for the rest of the day. If I feel so inclined, I may move the three feet to type some more inanities.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:52 BST, by Kenny
 

Another woe is me

I made it out for lunch yesterday and then promptly came home and went to bed. I was awake for half the night feeling like proverbial. I half entertained the idea that I could make into work -- I gave up at 04:00. My little soujourn to entertain B, her daughter and her friend J knocked the stuffing out of me. I feel like I have been punched in every organ.

On the bright side ('cos there's always got be a bright side), I will be able to get down to the post office to mail Tasha's Aeros to her. I didn't know this but Tasha is actually a journalist. I'm so flattered when journalists think my random scribblings are worth reading. And I quote, Tasha said my writing is "top-notch". I about fell over when I read that.

What she actually said, and sorry Tasha (I'll pull this if you're uncomfortable with it) is:

Thank you again for everything. I look forward to a piece of your
country in the mail. :)

I have noticed how flattered you've been that Bryony has been reading!
As a journalist myself, I can tell you we often flock to blogs where
the writing is top-notch and the topics are compelling. It is a true
complement to your blogging.

Tell me that wouldn't bowl you over. That's about the biggest compliment I have ever had. It's a good job I'm ill and prostrate or I'd be top-heavy and falling all over the place.

I should have raided the newsagents' as well for Aeros. Flattery gets you everywhere with me.

Ill or not, that package is leaving today. If I have to crawl down to the post office, it will be sent.

Honest to God, what is it with me and journalists? As I said to Tasha, I think there is something latent in me that always wanted to be one, but I cannot cut the techie chord.

Tasha could have been anyone, but she showed an interest in Mint Aeros. Who am I to deny a chocolate lover? And then she ups and outs herself as a journo, and now I feel daft for having sent her a copy of the Sunday Telegraph in her little bundle and commenting that it was "proper journalism". Talk about feeling stupid? Yup. That, right there is me.

Next I'll be emailing Bryony a copy of her own column saying that she should write in a similar style.

Begone the flu.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 09:28 BST, by Kenny
 

1st April 2007

It's nice when you realise some people are nice too

My latest commenter was as confused as others with regards to Mint Aeros.

I was true to my word. She sent me her address. I have sent her as many Aeros as they have in the shop, some teabags and some sex aids (Ripples and Flakes -- I defy anyone to not lose their mantel when given them -- my preference is Ripple, but a Flake would do for a one-night stand).

snip--

Eyup,

I have been and sourced the goods for ya. Unfortunately they had no orange Aeros and were limited in their mint stock so I wiped them out of the regular bars and added a ginormous one, together with some other stuff -- only give the smarties to kids. Ripples and Flakes are for romantic moments. I also threw in a box of teabags just to show you what real tea tastes like, and a copy of the Sunday Telegraph, just to remind you what proper (ie non-US) journalism means. It's wrapped and addressed but I don't know when I'll get to the PO with it -- might ask Die Fuhrer but it might be a bit heavy for her.

Thanks for taking an interest in my random rantings. It really does touch me when people I don't know have the interest to read my mindless blatherings. Hell, I have a top journo now reading it and I have no idea why -- I'm a lowly mathematician with all the literary skills of Mike Tyson. It's so flattering.

Anyway, when I can get your goodies on their way, I will, and I hope you enjoy them. I maintain that Aeros are too good for kids though. And more impotrantly that that Flakes and Ripples are sexual...I actually prefer Ripples but I swing either way on chocolate.


Nice to know there is a global community!

Now I have to take B out for lunch. It could have been Emm but there ya go. In fact it's nearly dinner. Blah. No energy but so many commitments.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 14:51 BST, by Kenny
 

First outing

I'm about to jump in the bath. Don't worry -- there's a bath mat in there so my jumping won't be so risky.

Then I have to shave. I hate shaving. What a monumental waste of time.

I've been coerced into taking B out for lunch. If Emma hadn't blown me off, I might have been a tad more enthusiastic.

The good news is that I have the energy to even consider such things. I've been flattened for days. Getting back to the point where you can consider leaving the house for any longer than ten minutes is no bad thing.

Prior to lunch, I need to go get Tasha a care-package. I'm thinking a couple of dozen Aeros, some PG Tips and maybe just pick up a random newspaper (well, the Telegraph if there are any left). Okay, I may throw in some other daft bits.

Honest to God, I sometimes think that I think more like a woman than a man. I'd believe it, were my personal hygeine better when I'm ill -- I just veg when I'm ill -- I can't be arsed with showers or baths -- maybe I need a dedicated nurse to bed-bath me. That has sexual overtones that we shall overlook. It reminds me of my time in Singapore -- remind me to tell you about that!

Reyt -- bath and shave time. See y'all later. And remember, it's a wicked world out there. Take care.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 11:58 GMT, by Kenny
 

At bloody last

The US has finally stepped up to the mark in backing the UK on the 15 hostages in Iran. Sorry to say this, but it's like both the great wars; the US steps in at the last minute. The moment you guys want anything, we jump, because we're good mates like that. The moment we need anything, you kind of finish off your game of Sonic the Hedgehog, grab a burger and a coke, call your mom, and then call us and say "Hey? What was it you wanted again?". Bloody frustrating.

Still, at least now, it's been said.

Tasha (love that name by the way), I will dispatch your aid-package (like that? -- the US is in need of aid :) )in the next couple of days. All the constituent parts are available not 100 yards from here -- it's just a question of when I can get to a post-office. If I'm still flu'd tomorrow, I'll probably be able to get down to the local PO. Otherwise, it will be next Saturday before I can post it -- my weeks involve 16 hour days and I've no idea where the PO is in Leeds. But know that there is a prescription of 2 dozen Aeros is on its way. If you have kids, do not, under any circumstances, let them get at the mint-milk-chocolately goodness. It's wasted on kids -- just buy them some crap Hershey bar rubbish.

I'll be back later. I'm feeling a tad better than yesterday so a tad squared from the nadir in total.


Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 10:17 GMT, by Kenny