keresaspa: (Percy Sugden)
There's a song where some bloke with a fake accent sings "hold me tight and whisper love is forever" playing everywhere, all the young ladies are wearing bits of plastic in their hair for some reason and my breath permanently smells of diluted Harp and Dorchester Superkings. Not literally but it might as well be the case as I'm forced to fall back on a survey, just like in the old days (assuming it doesn't contravene the terms of the new Russian language-only agreement that I was just forced to sign on here). So anyway:

· What kind of a mood are you in right now? Meh.
· What's been on your mind lately? Non-payment of debts by a certain airline and non-delivery of Bandcamp orders.
· What has been the best part of the past week? The second goal in the match I just got back from. Best I've seen live all season. Some youngster named Pearse who ran along the edge of the box and then stroked the ball into the top corner for my local club Rosario against Grove United in an NAFL 1B match.
· What has been the worst part of the past week? Phoning the flybe call centre this morning. God but I hate the phone.
· Where are you? In my flippity floppity floop.
· What did you last eat? A rather unpleasant cottage pie.
· What did you last drink? Chocolate Moo.
· How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Three at best. I just don't sleep any more.
· What are you wearing? Green jumper, blue pyjama bottoms with a grey stripe, fawn socks and brown sandals. Every bit as stylish and dashing as it sounds.
· What did you do yesterday? All sorts of pointless nonsense.
· What are your plans for tomorrow? Respiration and that.
· Have you learned anything new lately? Theoretically, how to replace a broken handle on a window but I won't know if I've genuinely learned it until the new one arrives and I undertake the changeover.
· Who was your last text from? Hotmail, who have suddenly become security conscious to wanky levels.
· What was the last website you visited besides this one?
· Who did you last compliment? What did you say? Can't remember. There was a homosexual barista rather taken with my moustache a while ago so maybe that. (Read that wrong didn't I - who did I last compliment. No idea, never do, haven't the confidence.)
· When was the last time you exercised? I threw the weights around the other night, to little purpose.
· Are you listening to any music right now? No, TV's on in the background.
· What's the last thing you Googled? "Newington Dundela abandoned". A match was abandoned recently after some nutjob slapped the ref and I was looking to see what will happen as a consequence as it might impact on my mob.
· Is there anyone in the room with you? No.
keresaspa: (Miki Sugimoto)
It's a right nuisance when a door handle gives way and suddenly it becomes impossible to close said door without a whole irritating rigmarole. Mind you, what makes it that little bit worse is when you remove half of the offending handle and you're left with a little man sticking his tongue out at you.

It is, I'm informed, a broken spring in the handle although I have neither a replacement nor circlip pliers to hand and so a trip to the locksmith/door handle shop will be required. Expect brown warehouse coats, unintelligible jargon and air being sucked in through teeth immediately prior to the quoting of ridiculously high prices. All this in a week when I have to find time to squeeze in two evening matches up at Donegal Celtic. Lousy minor setbacks.
keresaspa: (Robb Wilton)
We all know what a bore I find bank holiday Mondays and the May Day one is quite possibly the worst, in Belfast at least. It's the day on which lots of sweaty people in vest decide that running 26 miles round the backroads of Belfast is a good way to spend their time and as such for the rest of us the option of doing owt is removed. Unless you enjoy dodging said sweaters that is which I personally do not.

So confined to barracks and, as is inevitable in such circumstances, a paint brush soon found its way into my hands. Still, luckily it was nothing major, just an old bench that needed an overhaul, thus:

Yes, I'm posting a picture of something I painted. Normally such things hold no thrill for me whatsoever but for some reason today I felt quite pleased after doing this. Can there be a clearer sign that middle age has arrived than getting excited by how a spot of painting turned out? If there is, I can't think of it.
keresaspa: (Stan Ogden)
Bloody rain! Too much rain leads to waterlogged pitches which in turn leads to the football card being wiped out and in turns leads to me kicking my heels trying to fill up a boring Saturday. How the hell did I used to survive this day before I went back to the football? Strictly speaking I might have went anyway as there is one game on due to Seaview having a plastic pitch but Crusaders-Linfield was ruled out because (a) it's too loyalist, (b) I hate both teams and (c) it might well have been all-ticket anyway.

Still, if nothing else it gives me time to clear up two of my annual traditions in one go so read on or hit the road, whichever suits you.

Top 10 albums of the year )

2012 thing )
keresaspa: (Nina Wadia)
So I disappear for fifteen days and livejournal tries to sneak its awful new interface for posting entries on me by force. Sod that, switch to old version forthwith. And whilst we are at it, is it a general thing for everybody that clicking on an interest on a userpage always returns no matches regardless or is that just me? This place is falling apart and may God almighty and St Cuthbert be angry with them if they don't get their acts together soon.

As to that fifteen day absence it is explained by a combination of a general ennui at the slow death of this site as well as the fact that my laptop had gone east for a while last weekend. I did have access to a creaking old desktop computer that [ profile] queenmartina had long since cast aside like so much mechanically recovered BSE carcass meat but it was used only in fits and starts as I am loathe to touch other people's electronics for fearing of buggering them up, even those that lie unloved. I was without my own for five days or so but I managed to survive fairly well thanks to (in no particular order) a jolly outing to dear old Ballymena, Virgin Media's on demand service being well stocked with episodes of Bo Selecta, another instalment in Donegal Celtic's inexorable rush to relegation (well, it will suit me as I will have a team in each of three divisions next season), yet another spot of painting and another bit of reading this time with the oddball mix of Walter de la Mare (who, like the previously mentioned Hope Mirrlees, was going great guns until a duffer of an ending) and Franz Kafka ("The Metamorphosis" = a masterpiece but "In the Penal Colony" = crap). It was an old fashioned experience not having immediate internet access but if Led Zeppelin have a top ten album and Richard Edmonds is back in the NF (who will they dig up next, Robert Relf?) then perhaps the archaic is the zeitgeist. Or something like that.

Still it was worth it in the end because when the beast was returned to me the transformation was intense. The improved response from the internet was what I had hoped for but a bunch of other problems I hadn't even noticed are now banished to the land of wind and ghosts. Until now I had assumed the myriad time lags I had to endure were all part of the package but every man jack of them has now been exorcised and I have yet to hear the dreaded beep of doom once since the contraption was returned from [ profile] burkesworks' dexterous digits. Were we not old chums I would have called for him to burnt as a warlock, such has been the transformation in the hitherto tired old apparatus. I don't know what you did but I'm awful glad you did it because whatever the processes this old monster has never worked as well before, not even when it was fresh out of the box.
keresaspa: (Ray Meagher)
So Saturday, as I previously mentioned umpteen times, was the Fenian derby as Cliftonville played host to "Celtic". I place Celtic in inverted commas because, just as I anticipated, the team that turned out in green and white bore no resemblance to the one that will be winning the next several SPL titles as it was in fact Celtic's under-19 team. No sign of ginger whinger Neil Lennon as the first team was off drawing with Inter at Parkhead so it was left to fellow "strawberry blonde" Stephen Frail to boss the team. Perhaps as a consequence of this being common knowledge the ground was surprisingly less than full, although there was a decent sized crowd in. A group of diehards had come over from Glasgow and styled themselves after the ultras, chanting loudly and waving a huge flag styled after the Northern Soul logo, albeit was the legend being "Glasgow Celtic Keep the Faith" instead. Unfortunately the whole ultras styling didn't work because there were only about five of them and they were all middle-aged grey hairs squeezed into St Pauli t-shirts that didn't quite fit. They got a brief call and response chant going with a few in the old Cage End Stand (alas now all seat) but it petered out quickly, as did attempts by a lone drunk to howl made-up songs about various Cliftonville players, all of which were sang by him and no one else. One thing is for sure - supporters of republican-aligned teams in Belfast just don't care to sing. At kick-off one veteran did get a laugh when he bellowed his catchphrase "c'mon Reds let's get into this shite", despite wearing a Celtic drill top. Mind you forty minutes in when he said it the fifth time laughter had given way to "shut the f*ck up". One final note to the chaps in the Bowling Green End who got very boisterous in the second half - the Grecque or, as it is now erroneously called, "the Poznan", might look impressive when an entire stand of several thousand does it but when two rows of a single bank of seating turn their back and bounce up and down it just looks a bit silly.

As to the action on the pitch the teams were pretty evenly matched in the first half and the lack of any clear cut chances did rather raise the fear that I might finally be about to break my duck of never having seen a scoreless draw in the flesh. Half time saw the Cliftonville Ladies team come onto the pitch to receive their trophy for winning the women's league this season. Inevitably however, this being Belfast and all, the second the presentation started all hell broke loose as the sort of torrential rain that has defined this washout of a summer came on, soaking every woman Jill of them. Come the second half however and Cliftonville got off to a flier, with Robbie Thomson in the Celtic goal pulling off a number of great saves in a manner that suggests a good future in the game. Finally Liam Boyce, not long back from an abortive attempt to make it at Werder Bremen, struck a fine goal and it looked like the floodgates would open. Unfortunately for the Reds they failed to take advantage of their dominance and ended up behind after a sucker punch from Tony Watt before, after again spurning some good chances, falling behind to a sweet strike from Callum McGregor who ended a mazy run across the edge of the box with a great finish. With time almost up it looked like the chance had been blown until at about the 95th minute Cliftonville hit the post only for Joe Gormley to spring up and score on the rebound, ensuring a diplomatic draw that allowed all to go home happy. The Reds deserved at least a draw given their performance and look like they might give Linfield a run next season.

After the fun of Saturday, Sunday was spent trying that paint removal job again. Well, I got some of it done but suffice to say there is still a bunch to come off. I managed to lay my hands on a large bottle of jollop and it does ensure that a lot of the paint just floats off. Unfortunately however it doesn't give uniform removal so whilst big chunks come off others stubbornly refuse to budge and this is particularly true nearer the ground (something I am blaming on the damp). I finally lost interest at midnight and moved all but the heaviest of furniture back into place with probably two thirds of the paint off but still coverage on the entire wall (which now somewhat resembles a woad tattoo). I'll tackle it again soon but at the minute I can't be bothered and am slightly regretting starting the whole enterprise in the first place. I'll be glad to see the back of that hideous blue paint and its interminable stickiness but you know, effort and all that.
keresaspa: (Tiger Jeet Singh)
One will often hear particularly strong drink described as "paint stripper" but it never occurred to me that certain crazies might actually drink the stuff and such make it a legally controlled substance only available from certain licensed outlets in north Antrim. Well, that's the only conclusion I can draw after a day spent visiting innumerate seedy hucksters in a vain attempt to procure a vial of the stuff.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Several months ago I painted a large wall in my gaff with blue paint. As a result of the paint being dodgy and my long-standing, and seeming unsolvable, damp problem blue wall never dried properly and even yet there are parts of it that are sticky to the touch. As such I resolved to get rid of it and start again and to that end the last time I was in Ballymena I got a tin bottle of jollop to remove said duff paint from a hardware shop closing down sale. Being the procrastination aficionado that I am the tin bottle sat there for several weeks before I finally got stuck in yesterday when, inevitably, it proved to be nowhere near enough for the whole wall. "No problem" I thinks to myself "it should be easy enough to get more". Don't you believe it! The substance is unavailable everywhere and even the possibility of a return to Ballymena to get more is hit on the head as Gardiner's of Harryville has closed it's doors for the last time. So as it stands I am left with an uneven patch of bare plaster surrounded by decaying soggy blue paint and no prospect of fixing it any time this side of doomsday. And to add to the fun whilst I was scraping yesterday I also scraped a chunk of flesh from my left index finger. In itself this would be annoying but old pointy lefty is effectively my computer finger, the one used for scrolling on the mouse and the one that does the vast majority of my typing (pointy righty gets involved occasionally but it's mostly one-fingered) and as such everything computer-related is an even bigger chore than usual. It doesn't help that my laptop is playing funny buggers again, wiping my Solitaire saves as and when it sees fit, something I have finally decided is being done by AVG for some reason. So as a result of all this sulk, pout, upsetting.

Bloody DIY.
keresaspa: (Shakuni (Gufi Paintal))
There are few things in life more horrifying than the phrase "easy self-assembly" are there? Long-term readers, if any, will be well aware that I have previous in this area but nevertheless I recently launched myself headlong into the fray by getting hold of a CD tower from that august purveyor of tasteful shite Argos. Rather than waste time on the details it will suffice to say that the "easy" part of the phrase was a bald-faced lie and that the supposedly most simple part, attaching a piece of wood to another two pieces of wood, proved absolutely impossible for reasons I still haven't quite worked out. When screws fit very snugly with every test it seems beyond the realms of reality that they should fall out every time you insert them with a screwdriver but that is precisely what happened, to the point that I gave up and broke out the Uhu. After fannying about levels that were just ridiculous the thing is finally standing now, albeit with the two major sections showing a join that would embarrass Ernie Wise's wig maker and a wobble that suggests future mad dashes to avoid the thing toppling over. Of course, the sensible thing to do would be to stop buying CDs altogether and thus not have to figure out how to store so many of the bloody things but that's not an even an option as one can never have enough music and downloads just don't do it for me. Still, you would think that after years of things like this existing they would have figured out ways to make these things easier to build rather than making them progressively more difficult. Or alternatively after years of trying you would think I would have improved at these sort of tasks rather than getting worse at them. Either way "easy self-assembly is a bloody lie and I hate it. So there.
keresaspa: (Ye olde Harry Secombe)
Remind me if I ever get the notion to paint my gaff again to have a quick rethink. Trying to get rid of streaks whilst getting RSI from a roller, combined with the general pain of trying to lug around 15 stone of filing cabinet makes the whole experience one I would rather have done without. The whole mess was not helped by the fact that I've been getting physio on a bum shoulder recently - the good work there has gone for a burton. It's my own fault of course for packing so much furniture, so many books and CDs and so much general crap into a small area but to fix that I would need to get rid of things and that would never do. And unlike a lot of people who do this when ever I decorate a room and look at my handiwork I never get a feeling of satisfaction but rather one of "the walls are a slightly different colour, big fizz". DIY - you can keep it!
keresaspa: (Lorraine)
Painting - is there anything that is more hard work for such scant reward? "It'll look nice when it is finished" they claim but you know full well that, given that it starts off as a wall, continues to be a wall whilst you paint the blasted thing and will remain a wall once you have finished and in perpetuity thereafter that, far from looking "nice", it will look as dull as walls do. By their nature they are boring things and paint doesn't change that. Faron Young didn't sing "Hello Walls" because he was suffering from a rare mania that caused him to talk to inanimate objects but rather because they are proverbially boring. Add the fact that our landing (which was where the painting was apparently required) is about as narrow as I am wide and my total lack of a head for heights and the whole ghastly tableau becomes even worse. To put a cap on the whole thing I was then forced to have yet another attempt at fixing the now mythical bouncing blind in my house which, suffice to say, went tits up as usual. I am now reaching the point where the wall in my house is in too poor a state of repair for me to go on and so if and when the blind comes tumbling down again I will have to forget about it and let the world gaze in on me as it sees fit. If you ask me DIY really should stand for "damned inconvenient yellowhammers" (he said, falling back on the Every Villain is Lemons school of initials and acronym). I now require sweeties and something to take away all those little horrible bits of paint that will infest my skin for the next six weeks or so.
keresaspa: (Nina Wadia)
Well, in what amounts to taking a blunderbuss to kill a moth, access to livejournal has been denied on these computers before five o'clock. Pain in the arse and no mistake. Still, we must make the best of the hand dealt to us and so I continue as best I can.

So anyway, for the recent birthday I got a new doo-dah that holds around 400 CDs. A most welcome addition as they were getting terribly untidy in my place and I needed something to sort the problem out. I picked the model myself and decided to take on face value the easy assembly jazz on the ad in the Argos catalogue. Big Mistake! Seasoned readers of this here rubbish will know that I am to DIY what Dakota Fanning is to the World Arm-wrestling Federation and so the thing languished, unloved and unbuildable for days as I struggled to make sense of long bolts and wing nuts and other bric-a-brac that was somewhat beyond me and even left [ profile] queenmartina, who is decidedly better at these sort of things than I am, stumped. Long story short, yesterday the thing was finally completed. The construction was not without its ups and downs, including a couple of heartbreaking moments where I realised that certain things were the wrong way round and had to set about dismantling what had already been done. Similarly the factory put in two left hand side surround parts (not getting too technical, am I) rather than the proper ones but by that point I was not interested in exchanges and so the finished product has an odd visual curvature on one side. But I don't care as it does what it is supposed to do and is a thing of odd beauty in its own right. Plus I finally managed to do something DIY related more or less right. I know to some of you this will seem like a non-event but to me it is a major triumph.

Meanwhile, speaking of cack-handedness, I see that Newcastle have appointed Joe Kinnear as interim boss. Now, I have mocked the poor old Geordies a lot on here recently but I'm afraid I'm going to have to continue in that vein. Joe Kinnear?! A man who hasn't managed in years and whose last job involved taking a two time European Cup winning club into the Third Division. Fair play to the man for coming back from his heart troubles but really! Still I suppose they are a good fit as the appointment of Joe Kinnear to manage Newcastle certainly has a joke in 'ere!

And speaking of football jokes, there can be little excuse for some of some of these piss-takes. You can always rely on the Germans for tonsurial disasters.

Oh and of course, farewell to Paul Newman, a fine actor and all-round good egg.
keresaspa: (Rasputin)
Funny old weekend, all round. Had my usual Friday night booze fest and wasn't worth tuppence the next day but then I got a call from my cousin Billy in Saintfield to go up to his place as his kitchen roof had fell in and he needed a hand securing it until the roofer came round Monday (which is today obviously). Being about as handy as a broken dynamo on a one-legged man's bike I wasn't too keen but the offer of being paid in booze made the notion much more attractive. So, after a lot of tarpaulin hauling and such rubbish (all in the pissing rain I might add) I prepared for a couple of cans or possibly a shot of the hard stuff. The bugger had only laid his hands on potheen! Seems he knows a guy out that way that has a fly still and he had got a couple of bottles off him. Hammered's not the word for it, buoys and gulls. Plus I hadn't helped matters by bringing up some Dubliners and Angelic Upstarts albums to get the craic going. If anything is guaranteed to make you booze more it is a mix of folk and punk! It was four on the Sunday before I woke up again and about half seven before I felt capable of moving. Pity really, as the tarp had long caved in so by nine-ish it was back up the ladder for more. I tell you what, being up a ladder after a night on the moonshine is one of the scariest things I've ever had to do in my puff. Hangovers all round and the price of a taxi from Saintfield to my house meant I was stranded there until this morning when Billy dropped me home on his way to work. Good auld craic and no mistake, but potheen really does floor me these days. Apologies to you, [ profile] darkphoenixrisn for not getting in touch but Sunday was effectively a write-off. Hope you had a good time in this dump, anyway.

Anyway, that's all for now as this computer is starting to give me a headache. I may be back later for some light duties. Otherwise, TTFN.
keresaspa: (Percy Sugden)
Quite a gap there chaps but never fear, your hero has returned. Been a mixture of busy and lazy these last few days. Friday was given over to spending scrouse, buying a load of old Shoot magazines from a huckster in St Georges Market then swinging round to Argos to pick up a cheap electric screwdriver that I had got my mate who works there to set aside for me. Long term readers will be aware of how much I hate screws so this was a long overdue purchase. Saturday was spent repairing the long broken blind in my gaffe with a tube of polyfilla rip-off and my new toy. After a few abortive attempts I finally worked out how to use the screwdriver (yes, it is a simple thing to do but where but, like Homer Simpson before, I am destined to fail at every attempt at masonry) and did a bodge job of fixing the thing up. Amazingly the now legendary bouncing has been eliminated. Yee-ha! Sunday was spent being a Fenian at the local church, whilst Monday was given over to a mixture of crap telly, hitting the books and accepting that it's Division Two (or whatever they call it this week) for the Albion next season. Yesterday was spent in the town wasting a bit more money. In all, surprisingly painless for a bank holiday double header. Perhaps I'm getting used to them more. All terribly exciting (or just terrible).

Well, it's now a case of transferring that work I did to the computer so I should make haste. However a selection of memes are doing the rounds and I believe I will bandwagon them.

Some stolen surveys for you all to ignore )
keresaspa: (The Major)
AH! Bloody computer printed six blank pages and charged me for the buggers. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – computers are the work of the Beelzebub. Rage! And relax.

Bit of a break over Easter coming up. Well, sort of. Actually by my own standards I have a fair few things to do. Tomorrow will be given over to another trip to the market and then a traipse round the town to find long screws (no, the curly nails). The bouncing blind that I caused after a drunken fall is finally going to get an overhaul thanks to my acquiring a hole-filler that should be preferable to the useless epoxy putty that is currently holding things in place. The Wall of The Exalted ™ in my gaffe also needs a bit of a rethink as I need to find a place for my genuine Vietnamese Ho Chi Minh cloth alongside Marx and Engels, Connolly and the red flag. To most this would seem like a two minute job but to a ponderous gink like me it could well take up a whole afternoon. After that the rest of the time will be given over to doing some work on polishing off the essay that I’m currently working on. Nine books have been checked out of the library, including one by someone with the surname Yahya (arguably the finest surname I have ever encountered), plus I have a book on Populism to pick up in the town tomorrow so there is no excuse for me not to have a fair bit done by next Wednesday (which is the next time I’ll be near a computer – try not to miss me too much). So there you have it. The excitement over the Easter holidays will be breakneck! Sorry about this dull post but I have nothing of substance to report and there is little to pique my interest in the news. Whatever you end up doing, enjoy it and I’ll see you all in six days time.
keresaspa: (Default)
I couldn't be bothered doing any work yesterday so I went into the town instead and hit my favourite shop, a sort of chavvier version of Poundstretcher. Always fun and always a good excuse to waste money on badly-printed Sudoku books and wooden snake toys. I also picked up a crack filler (for walls, you sickos) with which I might finally attempt to repair that dodgy blind in my gaff that I have discussed before. Well, it cant be any worse than epoxy putty, can it?! Today I see that some nutter is selling a Jimmy Edwards album on e-bay. Sweet as a nut!

I see the snooze-fest that is the Commonwealth Games has been opened by a confused 79 year old woman. Whoop-dee-frigging-doo! 11 days of ping-pong, Esther Williams' act and jismic rim-nasties. OK, so it'll mean 11 days without shows about debt and unhealthy eating which is good thing, but really can the telly get any worse for us insomniacs?! Plus the blasted thing doesn't even football in it which at least the Olympics had the decency to include. Sierra Leone versus the Maldives would have been compulsive viewing at half past three of a Tuesday morning. I may even be reduced to watching the lawn bowls at this rate. Anything is better than running, mind you.
keresaspa: (Default)
Heat. Too much. Wilting.

I have no idea what the temperature is today but it must surely be in at least the high 20s. Such heat makes chubby hairy chaps like myself feel like we are about to expire at any second. Make it stop! Actually I dont really care as I will be hemmed in the next few days anyway because a bunch of dinosaurs like to walk on roads. Fun time.

If anything comes of the London business, I sincerely hope it is not random targeting of Muslims for attacks and general venom. I would really hate it if Blighty went the way of America and started looking with suspicion and even hatred on anyone who looked remotely Arabic or Asian. God knows there is too much of that as it is, let's not add even more. Already everywhere I look the nationalism levels are rising, which has never been a good sign. Considering people from my neck of the woods suffered this sort of indignity in England not so long ago, I would hate to see the same meted out to anyone else.

Well, that's my tuppence worth for a while. Next two days will be spent doing very little (hopefully) or DIY (it's been threatened but please God no). Otherwise, I should be back on Thursday. Enjoy.
keresaspa: (Lorraine)
Screws! No, the small metal thing, you perverts! I'm just picturing the logic that invented them. "There's these things called nails that keep things attached to walls and can be put up by any idiot with a hammer. Let's invent something that is nowhere near as reliable and are a bloody nightmare to put in anywhere without dragging a huge chunk of plaster out of the wall." I only say this, comrades, because I spent yesterday trying to tackle a couple to put up a new dart board I just bought. Three hours and a wad of epoxy putty later (ripped off another chunk of plaster, didn't I) I finally got the bugger up am now wasting valuable hours doing my Ted Hankey impression. Nothing at all to a DIY-minded person, but a veritable triumph to Mister Useless here. 180! (well, more usually about 16 but I will get better). With permanently shaky hands and stubby fingers I find manual screwdrivers practically unusable but I resist the temptation to electrify as it would mean having to use the bugger a lot more.

2-1 up in injury time only to end up drawing 2-2. WBA looked well and truly doomed after that Crystal Palace result on Tuesday. I can't pretend I haven't been expecting it but it was a sickening way to throw away a lead. The defence is poo but Robbo still didn't bother signing any defenders during the transfer window. Just not good enough!

Finally I'll end with a question. Some of you computerical types must know how one goes about attaching a Microsoft Word document to an e-mail. Do enlighten this old Luddite. A thank you and a (theoretical) marshmallow in advance.
keresaspa: (Lorraine)
Tackled that plastering lark yesterday by using something called epoxy putty. I knew it had to be top of the range because it cost me a pound. Well, long and the short is that the torn down blind is back up but is wobbling about like Grandpaw Broon on Ne'er Day. It'll do for the minute until I can get my hands on a drill (God forbid) or be arsed tidying up enough to let a real handyman in. Who knows, it might even steady itself after three or four days as the packet mentions something about that length of time. Won't ne holding my breath, pals and gals. Still the superglue attack on the apparently totaled smaller items was a success and for one as non-dexterous as myself that is to be considered an achievement.

Still awaiting word from the honcho on when phase two of the interrogation will happen. If you remember it had been set for yesterday by the wee nerk postponed it and set it for sometime next week instead. If it's not one thing it's another with that wee scrote. Still the struggle goes on.

All for now. I'm off to waste some time on this here:
Good clean fun for the whole family. Cheerio!
keresaspa: (Haku)
Yesss! Essay done and handed in and all I had to do was practically break my wrist and rip my left man boob out of its socket. I'm resisting the urge to take painkillers as I don't trust the bloody things one iota. I'll tough it out as usual. I never realised until now just how long 10000 words takes. In future I'll be managing my time better (will I heck as like).

As I've said before I'm currently living in a converted garage and it has those pull-string blind things over the windows. My inebriated state on Friday night saw me rip a handful of the buggers down byn accident. Now I'm not a DIY person at the best of times but after a session my entire co-ordination had gone to the wall and my comical attempts to repair them resulted in about a foot of a gap at the end of the window. I wouldn't have minded but the next day it couldn't have been simpler. No more booze for me (until the next time).

Today's big news is that 1 in 10 people are incompetent. Hardly a big surprise when you were on the dole for any length of time or have had to find out where information days are round here. Seems like in both cases it should be 10 in 10. Still anything that has Frank Spencer in it is worth a gander.
keresaspa: (Default)
Just got an e-mail from the editor of When Saturday Comes. Look out for my contribution to their letters page in not the next issue but the one after. I believe it will be my fifth appearance in the magazine so I get to feel all smug and self-important for a couple of minutes. There it's gone.

Spent yesterday shopping which was fun, in a gouging out your own eyes kind of way. Managed to pick up a book that will write a third of my dissertation for me (God bless you, Waterstones). Was also sent to a paint shop. Ah, the nightmares. A bunch of slacked jawed yokels standing around, sweaty Betties weighing down their hen-pecked husbands with armloads of wallpaper and pedantic old men working there who know more about decorating than you and are determined to remind you of that at any given opportunity. The queuing system was also non-existent which meant I was standing there like a sausage for ages before I got served. Now my big fear, as a decoratophobe, is that I'm going to be roped into actually having to paint. NOOOOOOO!!!!!


keresaspa: (Default)

July 2017

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