The promised catch up

I was true to my word and did the ring around last night. For those who were reading a couple of weeks back - news was as good as could be hoped for.

Weather still dross back home I hear. To all those that warned me that London was bleak and miserable, I'm sitting here wearing shorts.

You won't know unless you've been there

Went out to one of our offices for the first time today.

Bracknell, f%*king hell!

I wasn't between 16 and 20, wasn't wearing tracksuit pants, and wasn't pushing a baby. I was pretty much a minority of one.

I thought Wanganui had its moments.

Frustrating day turns good

Having been knee-capped at every turn - I finally got a major piece of work out today. It had been hanging over me like a rain cloud for the last 2 weeks.

Now it has gone.

Blue skies in London, in every sense. Nice.

Not much news. Still procrastinating over booking flights home - but have some clear air to allow me to get to that now. Details to follow - but pencil in late Feb early March for latte's (prior to 11am), OJ's (post 11am). [Insert your own Tui billboard here - Ed]

To the woman on the tube...

With 3 fillings bottom right, 4 bottom left - please cover your mouth when yawning.

Her gate was open like a bear about to hybernate.

Ikky.

Doh!

I was having a quick trot around the Blogs when I stumbled across the latest David Benson-Dope scandal in Investigate Magazine. A trashy kind of a read worthy of reading on the tube.

I happened across and article that started with this:

Benson3

NZ$1.90 NZ$1.00
Add to basket Favorites
THE SECRET LIFE OF THE MINISTER FOR SOCIAL DEVELOPMENT

WEBSITE EXCLUSIVE ONLY...

Excerpt follows, full story is R18, with explicit photos and literature, and is only available by a credit card purchase for the special price of $1, to reduce the risk of children being exposed to its content.

WARNING: The following 10,000 word story contains R-18 photos and descriptions of an explicit sexual nature, relating to bondage, discipline and sado-masochism. It is premium content for several reasons. Firstly, a credit card purchase for $1 is our way of enforcing an R-18 limit. Secondly, this has been a lengthy and expensive investigation, and thirdly we may have to re-locate some of our sources either temporarily or permanently. They have put much at risk to help us bring you this investigation.

BY IAN WISHART

In July 2004, at the height of the clash of cultures surrounding Labour’s civil unions legislation, the man responsible for ramming that law through Parliament laid down a gauntlet challenging the integrity of groups opposing him. Married, with two children, Associate Justice Minister David Benson-Pope was the heterosexual face of the contentious gay marriage bill, and he’d been brought in to front it amid fears that the public would react badly to having openly gay Labour MPs Tim Barnett and Chris Carter leading the charge.

Both Carter and Barnett had taken prominent positions to push through the legalization of prostitution just months earlier, and the last thing Labour wanted was even more accusations that its homosexual wing was really in control of the party.

Cricky dickens - this could be worth read. So I hit 'print'. I was in Boston Manor on Friday and that office was still my default printer.

Now read the opening gambit again, 'Excerpt follows, full story is R18, with explicit photos and literature,' - sent to the wrong printer.

A rather hastily made and bashful phone call followed! A touch embarrassing!

As for the story itself - I tend to treat Ian Wishart with the same wariness that I do Nicky Hagar. But in politics, perception is everything, and has aready claimed Brash. And this doesn't look flash from here.

It was truly bizarre

But still a great day. We started by getting the train to Cardiff (capacity 1000 odd, tickets sold, at least 1300) - standing room only and loud, mouthy Kiwi's everywhere. And this was 10.30am...

We are not the most sophisticated of Nationalities when travelling on mass and on the jungle juice - but that is for another day.

The first pub we walked into was full of Welsh types doing a rousing rendition of 'Bread of Heaven' - this is what we were here for. We fund a slightly less jammed bar on the street and enjoyed a couple of Fanta's before heading to the ground.

The Millennium Stadium is amazing (apart from the pitch itself that is). Great facilities, easy access, lots of bars and toilets, and fantastics views from every seat. It is the caketins older brother - it really is. The stewards (numbering in their thousands as well) were helpful and friendly and all was going swimmingly.

To our seats went we and prepared ourselves. Boy and I share an emotional side when it come to these things. The Welsh crowd were singing, then there was a minutes silence - which was immaculately observed and added to the tension.

The New Zealand anthem by Hayley (she gets wheeled out fairly regularly over here) and the Fanta had really loosened the larynx. T'was a good showing if I may say so myself.

Then 'Land of My Fathers'. Click here to listen to the chorus if you do not know what I am talking about - and then imagine 70,000 people belting it out with the roof closed.

Dad loved the Welsh choirs, many a car journey was punctuated by them, so to admit that there was a couple of wet ones slipping down the face holds no shame here. To quote Big Chris from Lock Stock, to this point, 'it's been emotional'.

To go from emotional to incredulous in literally seconds is a weird feeling. I was almost fearing the crescendo of the haka, such was the intensity of the atmosphere. But then, things just went weird!

No haka - kick off. To be honest - they might as well have been playing soccer for the first five minutes. No bugger would have noticed. 75,000 people all looking at eachother quizically, the Welsh do 'confused' very well BTW ;-). So they had done it in the dressing room for reasons reported, not reported, accurate and spurious - I'll leave those machinations for the Talkback Shows.

What I will say, as someone who was there, was that it was handled very, very badly Not a single announcement, nothing. And then the images of the AB's doing Ka Mate in the dressing room, rather than being some sort of conciliatory gesture, served only to deepen the confusion and farce.



Good result mind! Live rugby is a completely different spectacle. Observation of the day - Dan Carter's vision is outstanding, Carl Hayman's mobility and work rate - astonishing.

3 hours standing on the way back home with a few good sorts, and one complete brick. Not bad I suppose. Home by half 11 and out for the count.

As far as days go, this was long and was seemingly fairly simple - go and watch a game of rubgy. But it also managed to fairly well cover 'the emotional range' to boot.

And I'm going to be there - brilliant!

Wales v New Zealand (Sat)

Stephen Jones and Richie McCaw will lead the sides out in Cardiff

Millennium Stadium, Cardiff
Saturday, 25 November
Kick-off: 1700 GMT
Live on BBC Two, Radio Wales & Cymru and the BBC Sport website.

Wales will start as massive underdogs at Cardiff's Millennium Stadium on Saturday as they aim for a first victory over New Zealand since 1953.

Too tired to post - so will simply C & P a little exchange...

In response to my slight on a certian N Hagar, which was in no way influenced by political leanings (I sided with Helen during 'Corngate') - there was this little exchange:

Mike: Or - he could just be a writer looking to make a living dude.
Mike | 11.21.06 - 3:37 pm | #

Frit: A writer does research - think Corngate or the Sunday Star Times 'Operation Leaf'.

To have three years out to make hay out of some dodgy emails and grandstand on that is a luxury not many writers have.
Frit | Homepage | 11.21.06 - 3:57 pm | #

Mike: Why is it when you try (and nearly succeed) to win an argument against me - my natural reaction is simply to reach out and punch you?

He has that luxury because he knows where he lives - i.e a small arse - gossip mongering country where there can be no tall poppies. Easy money - and laughing to the bank on the back of free publicity thanks to the Don.
Mike | 11.22.06 - 3:38 pm | #

Frit: That's brotherly love right there people!
Frit | Homepage | 11.22.06 - 4:38 pm | #

Looking forward to winning a couple of arguments - and the 2 dead arms and 2 dead legs that follow - in Feb mate!

Do the amendments to Section 59 cover brothers? Or just parents? ;-)

Still here

Days are flying by (apart from the fact that it is basically night for 14 hours!).

Had a meeting with HR today to confirm how I was going to use up some leave - so home it is for three full weeks in Feb. Can't lock down dates yet - but pleased to have it sorted. Weird that the thought of having to use and have holidays could stress you out - but it was. So that's done.

I heard from an ex flatmate for the first time in 4 or so years over the weekend and Gods toe nails have things changed with him. Another visit to look forward to in Feb. It is strange to be thinking about going round for a coffee with 'the family' - but I am sure we will escape for a bit to have a good yarn.

Thanks for the emails - news from home is OK, but not really for this forum - but, thanks.

Drip of the week.

Cosy upbringing, loads of cash from Ma and Pa's wealth and a tidy little house in Roseneath - makes it easy to be a pompous crusader.

Blow out

After a bit of a hell week, had a much needed blow out with Boy et al watching NZ v Frogs. It was with the same crew that is going to Wales for the Test next weekend.

Good times. Lazy Sundays... (I may even differ doing the whites 'til Monday eve - Madness)

MJD - watch this

Or any other fans of Christopher Walkin for that matter.

This is a clip of Kevin Pollack doing an impression of Mr Walkin on Letterman - bloody funny. The Walkin stuff kicks in after about 2 mins (of 5).

Hilarious

Griping

And doing so with both hands. Today was my first strength test, and in all modesty, I drilled it!

6kg of pressure in my right hand, 5kg in the new left. Absolutely wrapped with the result. A little bit of decreased mobility - but the new graft is holding strong.

Not long now until I lose the Hannibal Lecter'esque splint. Wah hay!

Office moves were made for OCD

Spent today putting together floor plans, sorting cabling and planning the actual move for one of our offices. In short I was basically:

Measuring things - (the windows all seemed to be the same size - but you don't know until you measure each and every one).

Writing lists - (lots of them, for everything. Is it a list if it has one item though?...)

Creating timetables - (you do have to factor in the time for a lift stopping on every floor after all - assuming the damn thing is working).

Creating naming conventions - (OK - so I did take the cop out and have a Misc category, but the logic everywhere else is sound).

Labeling things - (yes it is a kettle, but a kettle on level 4 is not the same as a kettle on level 5).

Counting and grouping - (fair enough, paper clips are paper clips - but 34 lever arch files could be referred to as 'files', but so could 3 lever arch files be called 'files' - needless to say there is an actual and demonstrable difference).

There was also a fair amount of telling people exactly what they would be doing, how and when - which is always nice ;-)

Pleasant way to keep my mind off things elsewhere - home now, and mind is back on said matters.

Decrepit

That is how I feel!

After a day in Boston Manor legging it up and down 5 flights of stairs (the lift there has been broken for nigh on 3 months, and the buggers wonder why we are moving out!) - I get home to Belsize Park.

Just as I arrive an alarm goes off and the lifts are stopped. No probs - I head to the stairs and start my ascent. 180 odd stairs later I was absolutely puckered. Legs are still recovering.

I need work.

Waiting...

Still no news - but about to get hold of people back home.

Long day waiting - but that doesn't compare to the anxiety for N and D. Mark was really good today - told me to jump on a plane and go home for Christmas or anytime I wanted to. Nice to have a boss like that.

Not sure what I will do at the moment.

Long way from home

N had Sophia on Saturday, and the unbiased views of the family is that she is an absolutely georgeous creation. But unfortunately there have been a couple of complications.

Damn it.

Have just talked to Ma and everyone is staying positive - but it does hammer home the distance factor.

I want to be home.

N just sent another text, 'don't want to get too happy till scan tests completed - daring to believe for a miracle'. We all are Wong.

Thinking of you.
Frit

Remember

Good conference - gimme a 4

Hangover Ratings

1 star hangover

No pain. No real feeling of illness. You slept in your own bed and when you woke up there were no traffic cones in there with you.

You are still able to function relatively well on the energy stored up from all those vodka and Red Bulls.

However, you can drink 10 bottles of water and still feel as parched as the Sahara.

Even vegetarians are craving a Cheeseburger and a bag of fries.

2 star hangover

No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a stapler.

The coffee you hug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast.

Although you have a nice demeanour about the office, you are costing your employer valuable money because all you really can handle is some light filing, followed by aimlessly surfing the net and writing junk e-mails.

3 star hangover

Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space cadet and not so productive.

Anytime a girl or lad walks by you gag because the perfume/aftershave reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer kicked you out at 1:45 am.

Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen doughnuts and a litre of coke watching daytime TV.

You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls and a litre of diet coke yet you haven't peed once.

4 star hangover

You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too quickly or else you might spew.

Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze.

You wore nice clothes, but you smell of socks, and you can't hide the fact that you (depending on your gender) either missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, or, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the dodgems.

Your teeth have their own individual sweaters. Your eyes look like one big vein and your hairstyle makes you look like a reject from a second-grade class circa 1976.

You would give a weeks pay for one of the following - home time, a doughnut and somewhere to be alone, or a Time Machine so you could go back and NOT have gone out the night before.

You scare small children in the street just by walking past them.

5 star hangover

You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits next to you.

Vodka vapour is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy.

You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth.

Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you.

You'd cry but that would take the last drop of moisture left in your body.

Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your dog just died because you look so pathetic. You should have called in sick because, let's face it, all you can manage to do is breathe..... very gently.

6 star hangover

You arrive home and climb into bed.

Sleep comes instantly, as you were fighting it all the way home in the taxi.

You get about 2 hours sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up.

You notice that your bed has been cleared for take off and is flying relentlessly around the room.

No matter what you do you now, you're going to chuck.

You stumble out of bed and now find that your room is in a yacht under full sail.

After walking along the skirting boards on alternating walls knocking off all the pictures, you find the toilet.

If you are lucky you will remember to lift the lid before you spontaneously explode and wake the whole house up with your impersonation of walrus mating calls.

You sit there on the floor in your undies, cuddling the only friend in the world you have left (the toilet), randomly continuing to make the walrus noises, spitting, and farting. Help usually comes at this stage, even if it is short lived.

Tears stream down your face and your abdomen hurts. Help now turns into abuse and he/she usually goes back to bed leaving you there in the dark.

With your stomach totally empty, your spontaneous eruptions have died back to 15-minute intervals, but your body won't relent.

You are convinced that you are starting to turn yourself inside out and swear that you saw your tonsils shoot out of your mouth on the last occasion.

It is now dawn and you pass your disgusted partner getting up for the day as you try to climb into bed. She/he abuses you again for trying to get into bed with lumpy bits of dried vomit in your hair.

You reluctantly accept their advice and have a shower in exchange for them driving you to the hospital.

Work is simply not an option.

The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might make you sick again, like moving.

You vow never to touch a drop again and who knows for the next two or three hours at least you might even succeed.

So, where was that 'line' then?

I think you have to use msn messenger a lot to understand just how funny it can be, and to be able to 'read' other peoples exchanges. The style of communication changes so much between one person and that same personand another person. If you know what I mean....

But when someone you haven't seen for well over a year, and not chatted to for an age, can pre-empt you like this in the midst of general chit chat:

Sally says (20:20):
She won't be salsa-ing for a while though, she's heavily preggers with number 2.
Frit says (20:21):
number 2!!!!!!!!
Frit says (20:21):
what - did she buy some interior shelving and stack them???
Sally says (20:22):
no, just the usual way - one at a time
Frit says (20:22):
and 'fresh air' - been called worse
Frit says (20:22):
she was very good value
Frit says (20:22):
what you guys do together
Sally says (20:22):
dirty!
Frit says (20:22):
(woof!!!!)
Sally says (20:22):
haha
Frit says (20:22):
just like old times
Frit says (20:22):
BTW.....
Sally says (20:22):
black
Frit says (20:22):
colour?
Frit says (20:23):
pissing myself
Frit says (20:23):
very loudly

Then it is either time to get a new party trick, or just treasure the understanding!

Love ya Sal.

Good luck Sis!!

Anytime around now my dear sis should be delivering my 6th proxy little one!! Nick was due yesterday and is expecting a little girl - number three!

Things couldn't be more different for me than with the delivery of number two, which was, shall we say, close quarters! 12,000 miles and I can't hear a thing!

But wish I was there - instead I'll just pray that all goes well. And tell my blooy family to call me!!

A week without blogging

I think this is probably the longest spell I have had without polluting the world-wide-tinter-web with my mental seepage.

Have been more tired than busy - poor me, poor me...

Off to a 'Leadership Conference' for Ochre this weekend - so will be back for proper like come Sunday. Don't know if I am looking forward to the conference - love a party - but never have been particularly comfortable with formal glad handing.

Then there's the presenting...

More Sunday.

I have always been uncomfortable with

the death penalty. Not feeling that so much today...

  

Going straight

Helen, the hand therapist, is a lovely lady. Well, she was until today. After consistently praising the 'lovely way the thumb was resting' - she suddenly, and without warning, turned a little Kathy Bates (in 'Misery') and decided it was time for the bugger to straighten up!

Damn it hurt. And, MJD, before you say 'train to enjoy the pain' - this was a little bit special. Analogy - you wake on a plane after being crooked for 8 hours or so and then have to wretch yourself straight. Muscles not too happy.

Try that after not moving a joint after 6 weeks! To add insult to therapy, she has remolded my splint to straighten the joint - read - turn me into a subconscious 24 hour hitchhiker.

Other than that - it all went swimmingly- thanks.

Completely believable

MJD left this comment yesterday:

You won't believe the crap the NZRL have got themselves in. Played Nathan Fien on the basis his great grandma was a kiwi - arguing that grandparents (plural) means any generation. Worst of all - even in the face of every definition of "grandparents" meaning only 4 possible people - big Sel is sticking to his guns. Upshot - we'll lose the 2 points from the win over the Poms. Mate!!

Later mate - just stepping out for 2nd coffee of the Sun shiny day
Mike | 10.31.06 - 3:47 pm | #

There was only one error. Mate - I would believe it. Without even stretching. When it comes to Kiwi League Administration, I would believe anything. Even the Sky Sports guys over here have been laughing at us.

Sel Bennett has always been a schnook of the first order.

The NZRL had stood by their claim that "grandparents" should be interpreted to include great- grandparents, which was at the centre of their argument along with the belief that there were no provisions in the constitution, written by RLIF chairman Colin Love, a Sydney lawyer, for determining and imposing penalties.

Unbelievable.

Strike that.

Typical.

Going large!!

Well, at least like it felt like we were going large. Me and the Jones Girl (aka Grandpa and Grandma) were actually at a bar until it closed last night!

Granted - it was 10.00, but it still felt like mid-week mayhem by our standards.

Pleasure as always Jones Girl - hope you got through today after your big night out ;-)