A Man of Numbers

Monkey Spanker

2006-09-27T13:05:00.000+01:00

For more details on this see my new site: Godzilla Roars

To be honest though. I would imagine stage 2 is easier if you do it before stage 1.

Why am I even imagining this scenario?

That

2006-09-15T15:04:00.000+01:00

was spooky - I was playing about over on Wordpress and this blog became unavailable to me I'm trying out over there at: http://manofnumbers.wordpress.com come and see me - comments about changing allegiances welcome.

Friday Flash Fiction

2006-09-15T13:20:00.000+01:00

Write a fictional story in 55 words with at least one main character and a plot. See Susie and let her know if you're playing along. Here's my latest attempt:

The rain fell hard, plastering his hair to his scalp. The metal was cold in his hand. He could feel his frustration and aggression, but he must stay focussed. He wanted to make this swift and efficient, then forget about what happened. Why did he always get a flat tyre in this type of weather?

More Album Covers

2006-09-14T12:47:00.000+01:00

here are some more treasures:

Tino seems like a nice boy. I'm picturing him singing falsetto for some reason....

This one baffles me slightly, I see the country connection, but where's the church? and are they really posing for another photographerjust to the right?

I would have thought a black tie was more appropriate for Freddie....

Rain

2006-09-14T12:39:00.000+01:00

It's only a five minute walk to the tram for me in the morning. Yet today I was absolutely soaked to the skin. The rain was torrential and unrelenting, until I got to the tram platform of course, when it stopped. Normally I hate getting wet on the way to work. I don't mind geting soaked on the way home, as you know you can soon get changed. Sitting at your desk with wringing wet clothes is not particularly pleasant. Today though I didn't mind. It was almost as though the rain washed my dour mood away. To celebrate here's a bad joke: An Irishman goes to the Doctor with botty problems.... "Dactor, it's me ahrse. I'd loik ya ta teyhk a look, if ya woot". So the doctor gets him to drop his pants and takes a look. "Incredible"he says, "there is a £20 note lodged up here." Tentatively he eases the twenty out of the man's bottom, and then a £10 pound note appears. "This is amazing!"exclaims the Doctor. ''What do you want me to do?" "Well fur gadness sake teyhk it out, man!"shrieks the patient. The doctor pulls out the tenner and another twenty appears, and another and another and another, etc.... Finally the last note comes out and no more appear. "Ah Dactor, tank ya koindly, dat's moch batt er. Just out of > interest, How moch was in dare den?" The Doctor counts the pile of cash. "£1,990 exactly." "Ah, dat'd be roit,''says the Irishman Wait for it........... I knew I wasn't feeling two grand.."

The Early Bird

2006-09-13T08:03:00.000+01:00

gets the worm, or so we're told. I'm posting early because I've got a long, stressful day ahead, and that's just work wise. Today is the anniversary of my father's death, and probably the main cause for my lame posts and melancholic mood this week. My father died 16 years ago today. From cancer of the throat, and he wasn't even a smoker. He was 51. I'm now closer to his final age, than I am to mine at the time of his death. That means something to me, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is. Time is meant to be a great healer, and if I'm honest for a while it was. I may have mentioned before that I'm an only child, so I have no siblings to discuss and reminisce with. My mother doesn't really like to talk about his death and what happened. She nursed him for quite a while before he died, and he wasn't himself before he died. He was on morphine for quite some time, and kept a journal of sorts. To him I think it acted as a crutch. Most of it is incoherrent ramblings regarding the amount of food he had been able to consume. He was a bright, articulate man, who needed to try and keep some element of control over his life, yet circumstances robbed him of that. I don't want to go over the details of what happened at the end, there's a post from last year that I think goes into that, but seeing you father in a morphine stupor and weighing about 5 stones isn't the lasting image you'd like. Whilst I was still childless myself, time was a healer, the pain wasn't quite as sharp as the years went on. It hurt to see other people forging new and different parental bonds. Friends of mine would go out for a beer with their dad, and the whole dynamic of their relationships changed as they found new common ground, regarding work, relationships etc etc. I felt jealous and slightly bitter that I never got that opportunity with my father. Then when I had my first child another realisation hit. My children would never know one of their grandfathers. He too was robbed of the chance of enjoying the benefits that come of being a grandparent. This year we have another child, and the feelings come fresh again, another one who will never know him, except from photographs. He was wonderful around children too, they seemed to sense that he was the source of great stories and fun. I think he had so much to give because my parents had wanted more children, but were unable to have them. I know what a wonderful grandfather he would have been, and it is painful to know that my children have missed out on the fun he would have brought them. Sorry for the depressive tone of this post, if you've made it this far, but I see this as somewhere to express my feelings. Mrs Zilla is good at listening, but hasn't lost anyone close to her yet, and her parents are experiencing the joy of having grandchildren. I need to try and end this on some sort of upbeat note, so this quote is my attempt at it: It is not flesh and blood, but the heart, that makes us father and son. Johann Schiller

Nothing

2006-09-12T14:42:00.000+01:00

much to post today. I've been tied up in dreary meetings and my mood isn't much lighter than it was. I'll be glad when this week is over. Go on, I'll try and make an effort: We have a new family game to play in the car. We all (those that can speak) have to try and spot Minis and Porsches as we drive around. First one to call a sighting, and get it verified by another player gets a point. First to 10 wins that round, and we start again. On a ten minute drive, to and from the supermarket, last night, I managed to win a round. I spotted 10, Godzooky 1 spotted 7 and Mrs Zilla managed a poor showing of 2. I never realised just how many Minis and Porsches there are out there. Lame posts may end soon...

Not sure

2006-09-11T12:51:00.000+01:00

how to deal with today and all the events associated with it. This time of year is always difficult for me, but I'll deal with that issue later in the week. In the run up to today there have been a lot of programmes and articles dealing with the events of 11 September 2001. I remember vividly how we first became aware of the events, as word spread round our office. It was a first in may ways. The first co-ordinated, wide spread terrorist attacks, especially in the US. The first time events unfolded "live" via the internet. I can remember feeling incredulous watching the building burning, and then seeing the second impact, and realising this was far worse than anyone could have thought. It took me back to the time I was involved in a couple of terrorist explosions, here in Manchester in 1991. I was on my way to work when a bomb exploded outside the building I worked in. It was a surreal situation. One minute walking along the street, thinking of my upcoming day, then a blast wave rushing past me, glass and smoke everwhere. Had I been at my desy when it went off, I would have undoubtedly been cut by flying glass, there was plenty embedded in the wall behind my seat. The next few hours saw me herded from place to place by the police, as rumours of more devices came through. Unluckily for me. I was shepherded by the police straight into the second blast that happened later that day, and ended up covered in soil from that explosion. Unknown to me I was in shock. I got home somehow, to this day I can't remember my journey home. I rang my mother to let her know that I was fine, and she was totally unaware of any problems in Manchester. 5 years ago the world was made very aware, very quickly of things happening. My thoughts are with the families of people who didn't survive that day. The worrying thing for me, having watched a lot of these programmes, is that there were clearly mistakes made along the way, that enabled these fanatics to carry out their plan. It sounds as though a lot of recommendations from the inquiries have not yet been implemented. I hope there is never a repeat of such atrocities on the same scale. Hopefully my posts will be cheerier later in the week, but don't rely on it. I may hav eto resort to more dodgy album covers to lighten my mood!

Back to

2006-09-08T13:11:00.000+01:00

the Twilight Zone - a place without marketing tactics, graphic design skills or taste :

Isn't it amazing how ventriloquist dummies start to look like their "owner", or should that be vice versa. Slightly ironic title too: presumably Ricky does most of the talking, Geraldine grins a lot, and the trees join in occasionally?

Dave strikes me as more of a slave to fashion, than the turntable, bad fashion of course. Note the self censoring nature of Dave, putting a Zap across his crotch, when surely Zip would hav ebeen more appropriate?

Joyce isn't giving much away, but then I'm grateful for that in some ways.

Julie's clearly not having a great birthday, perhaps John has just told her what her "special" present is?

Flash Friday Fiction

2006-09-07T13:39:00.000+01:00

Here's my first attempt at this, it seems like fun, and I'd like to rekindle my creativity, if it's still lurking somewhere. I've been inspired by Lily and Snav, but Susie is definitely the boss when it comes to this. You get 55 words to write a very short story about a picture. I should add this isn't necessarily autobiographical... He put the key in the door, trying to turn it quietly. His breath sounded deafening in the silence. He peered into the darkness; what awaited him? Stumbling blindly he fell against something, causing it to crash loudly to the floor. He paused, waiting for a reaction within. Upstairs his wife thought “He’s drunk again!”

Would you buy one of these albums?*

2006-09-07T12:35:00.000+01:00

I've uncovered a goldmine of atrocious album covers, this may become a regular feature....

Ken has hair that looks slightly unreal, a disturbing fixed stare and a lovely safari suit. Any requests for Ken?

I'm not sure which one is Al Davis, but my favourite is the one at the back, who is clearly touching up the lady, judging by her expression. Her hairline is also giving me cause for concern.

Cody appears to live in a nice neighbourhood, but he's spent too much on his house and not enough on his clothes.

Borrowing a feeling seems like a bit too much to ask - a cup of sugar maybe, but I don't think I'd like to know what feeling Cody is after.

This will be continued at a later date, I don't want to dilute the effect by posting too many at once!

* available at charity shops and some bad record shops, probably.

Toilet Humour

2006-09-06T13:05:00.000+01:00

Last night we went to the supermarket, to pick up a few items. As usual, the Godzookies were prepared for transport: booted, attired in appropriate clothing etc etc Yet almost as soon as we entered the supermarket, who should pipe up, but Godzooky 1: “I need the toilet!” This despite the supermarket only being a five minute journey from home, and me, personally, asking him if he needed the toilet before we left. So I go to the Gents with him. Once we get into the toilets he expresses his disgust at the aroma. This coming from a six year old capable of producing weapons grade chemical smells of his own! Once he has safely ensconced himself within a cubicle, the next moan comes: someone hasn’t flushed after a prior visit. Again, another complaint which he himself is often guilty of! Like a good child, he washed his hands, using soap and everything. He then went to use the hand driers attached to the wall. I watched in growing amusement as he struggled to get his hands dried. He was pushing and pulling all manner of buttons, seemingly unaware that normally he just pushes the large button on the front and hot air begins blowing. In fact he was pushing and pulling all the buttons on the condom machine next to the hand driers! I am a bad parent.

New Term

2006-09-05T13:14:00.000+01:00

The last day of the school holidays. When you’re a child the summer holidays seem to last for an eternity. As a parent Mrs Zilla cannot wait for it to be over. Godzooky 1 doesn’t want to go back to school, yet he’s done nothing but complain about being bored for the last couple of days. He struggles to come up with entertainment for himself. Mrs Zilla’s parents did the child care before we had Godzooky 2. As the only grandchild and in their constant company during the week, they indulged him excessively. All his entertainment needs were provided, and his need to play on his own was nonexistent. Mrs Zilla gave up work when we had Godzooky 2 – she didn’t want to miss out on another childhood, and we both felt that it would be better for the children. Godzooky 2 has been left to her own devices for a lot of the time – necessity is the mother of invention, and she has plenty of imagination to create her own fun and games. Godzooky 1 is fine when there’s group activities or some one on one time, but he struggles to keep himself entertained. Some days when I’ve arrived home the house has been like a battlefield. Godzooky 1, being unable to create his own fun, constantly tries to join in with Godzooky 2. Having devised her own entertainment, she often doesn’t enjoy him gate crashing and trying to take over. As an only child I was reliant upon myself to find things to do. I can see the inherent advantage in having siblings as ready made playmates or confidants, but I also see the need to be independent and creative. I think I may need to spend more time with Godzooky 1 developing his imagination and creativity. At the moment everything I’ve try just seems to get “parroted” back. I don’t want him to feel frustrated and bored by his lack of creativity.

Recap

2006-09-04T12:32:00.000+01:00

Friday night was very enjoyable - good food and wine, there were many funny moments in The Holy Grail that had slipped my memory, and I managed to lay a guilt trip on Mrs Zilla. Heh, heh! The weather this weekend has been atrocious. Persistent rain, accompanied by the occasional teasing bright spell. The trip to buy shoes wasn't as painful as first feared. The only real problem was that the terrible weather had inspired everyone to go to the shopping centre. This place has over 10,000 car park spaces. when we approached, only 650 odd were left. Although, given past experiences, the signs do seem to lie a little. I was fearing a situation like the New Year sales, where, in the past, I have witnessed actual fist fights over a parking space. Nothing like being reasonable is there? As it turned out we found a space quite close to an entrance, under cover too, thus avoiding a soaking. The malls seemed busy, and most of these people appeared to be out of towners, given their avid reading of maps of the centre! I thought this might be the case, as the England national football team were playing a match just down the road later in the day. We made it to the shoe shop easily enough though. Although I am often left wondering why people without wheelchairs/pushchairs wait in a queue for a lift, when escalators are bountiful? When you arrive in the shoe shop you are given a ticket number, and wait to be called. We were allocated 009. The next number to be shouted was 001, so there was hope. We only had to wait about five minutes before it was our turn, but five minutes can seem like a lifetime. Mrs Zilla took Godzooky 1 off to peruse the different available styles. Like most males, Godzooky 1 doesn't have strong opinions about shoes. Until you show him option of flashing lights or some other essential optional extra. Godzooky 2 was not happy at being left with me and the smallest Godzooky. She wanted to be out there handling the merchandise, like any true female spirit. It was a busy shop though, and she wasn't able to just wander off. So, once Mrs Zilla returned, I was despatched to let her have a look at the girls shoes. This proved to be a big mistake. Her idea of looking and mine varied enormously. My view: look at the shoes and point at nice pairs. Her view: pick up every single pair of shoes and try to get them on your feet. Regardless of the sizes. It became clear that Godzooky 2 thought she was getting a new pair of shoes too. This despite the fact that she got a new pair last month, and a new pair of trainers, and a pair of wellington boots to splash in puddles with, this month. That shows what delightful weather we've been having! Having been treated to a mini tantrum and a jutting bottom lip while she sulked, there came the time for negotiation. I managed to finally persuade her that it would be better for us to come back another time to look for a pair of boots for her, when the shop was less busy and she could try on as many pairs as she wanted. I hope that Godzooky 1 was learning from this masterclass of tactics I was giving. How to deal with a female in a shoe shop is something every man needs to learn, as soon as possible!

It's almost

2006-09-01T13:02:00.000+01:00

the weekend, and for a short week this seems to have dragged. In an effort to cheer myself up I have just purchased Month Python and the Holy Grail on DVD. I've already got it on video, but who watches those any more? I'll probably have to get it on Blue Ray or something in about 10 years too! My thanks go to Snav for mentioning it recently and reminding me what a cracking film it is. Part of my needing cheering up stems from last night. Putting it euphemistically, I "pleasured" Mrs Zilla and expected reciprocation, as one expects in polite circles, yet she rolled over and went to sleep! My male status in the house is clearly under threat. Had I been crueller (or sharper of mind) i would have given her a special wet patch to sleep in! Had I not watched a programme about what seemed like the world's messiest divorce last night, I may well have been seeking to serve papers today! Enough of such base matters. At least I have my DVD and a few drinkies to look forward to tonight. But why, oh why didn't I use some common sense and get Godzooky 1 new school shoes before the last weekend he starts back? This means a trip of terror to the sensible children's shoe shop. A queue to get his feet measured, then some negotiation as to what type of shoe he wants, only to discover that they've sold out of that type. Is it becoming obvious that I've been here before? It's that "old dog, new tricks" thing again isn't it?

I should have posted this before

2006-08-31T13:39:00.000+01:00

as it's a bit old now, but I thought I'd share before I get rid of it: I also love the "Latest News" bit bottom right: "Kids stay in school" - thus proving how old I am again!

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

2006-08-31T13:05:00.000+01:00

last night I ended up listening to the radio (or the wireless as my father insisted on calling it) through the TV. Who would have thought it, radio on the TV? That's how highly evolved we now are. It was the start of a Radio 2 (for English visitors, I realise this makes me sound like an old fogey) series about the life and work of Otis Redding. I've always loved his voice and it was a tradgedy that he died so young at only 26. It was interesting to hear how he had so many hits even at a time of bitter racial segregation. I guess you just can't hold back a voice like that. So it's official I am getting old. I even moaned about the weather this morning. Torrential downpours that should not be happening on the last day of August. Still, at least I was treated to the sight of a man with the world's biggest comb over flying about in the wind and rain. I suppose once I reach that status I will truly know I'm old.

As I'm

2006-08-30T12:45:00.000+01:00

struggling for inspiration for a post, and short on time, I'm going to be lazy and post something I received on email. These are letters sent in to Viz magazine, designed to be funny, and a lot of them do hit their mark: To the zookeeper in 1978 who replied "I'll tell you when you're older" when I asked him why one of the monkeys stuck its tongue up another one's ar*e: I'm 36 now and still waiting for that explanation. Joe McKeown Radio 2's Steve Wright only reads out letters from people who say how much they love him and his show. I know this because me and my mates write to him regularly to tell him we think he's a c*nt and he never reads our letters out. Mark Edwards, Leek 'Alton Towers - Where the magic never ends', or so the commercial says. Imagine my disappointment when it closed at 7.30..... Colum Hill I am married to a Taiwanese lady, and people often ask me if she was a mail-order bride. I find this very insensitive. The Royal Mail lose around 2 million letters and parcels each year, and to suggest that I would trust the delivery of my wife to them is insulting in the extreme. She was sent by DHL next day delivery. L Palmer, London With reference to Mr Palmer's previous letter. I am also married to a Taiwanese lady, but nobody ever asks me if she is a mail order bride. But perhaps that's because I am also Taiwanese. And we live in Taiwan. Lo Chi Chang, Taipei On holiday a few years back, I took part in a quiz and managed to reach the final only to lose out after what I consider to this day, to be a correct answer. The question asked 'What 'C' would you associate Jeremy Clarkson with?' to which I confidently replied 'c*nt'. Not only was I told the answer was incorrect, but I was asked by the holiday rep to leave the premises immediately. Has anyone else experienced such appalling treatmentwhilst holidaying with one's family? Noel, Leeds Why is it that Channel 4's Big Brother are allowed to install loads of cameras in a house and watch the residents' every move. But when I put onetiny camera in my neighbour's bathroom I get bound over for 12 months. There's no justice. Simon Eldritch I was being chased by a police dog last week, and made the mistake of trying to escape through a little tunnel, over a see-saw and through a hoop of fire. It finally caught me as I was weaving in and out of some sticks. Stan Herschel I was watching those insurance adverts on the telly where Michael Winner plays the parts of both himself and his wife. It suddenly struck me that, after years of wishing he would, he could now actually go and f*ck himself. Mike Oxlong I've just bought Paula Radcliffe's new autobiography. I read two thirds but I couldn't be ar*ed to finish it. Matt Spracklen, Wales Ronseal 5 Year Woodstain does exactly what it says on the tin, does it? Funny that. I've looked all over the label and nowhere does it say 'Makes your front door look like an African elephant has wiped its ar*e on it.' Steve Edwards, Welshpool I recently bought a fridge freezer from Currys, and after I had paid for it they asked me for my address to arrange delivery. I told them that I lived between Gateshead and Hexham, and if they rang me a week next Tuesday between 8am and 7pm, I night be able to give them a six hour slot when I would be able to take delivery. When they rang me, I told them thatmy house was out of stock and they should ring back on Saturday. The shoe's on the other foot now, isn't it, Currys? DF Kant Last week I attended an AA meeting, and to my horror, each person present stood up and openly admitted to being an alcoholic. I'm not having these boastful drunkards repairing my car. I can only hope the RAC have more responsible employees. Hugie Dixon, West Drayton I'm fed up with finding my e-mail inbox stuffed full of adverts for p*nis enlarging pills. In the interests of sexual equality, isn't it about time that they started bombarding women's computers with adverts for f*nny tightening tablets? Neil, Scot

I must be an old dog

2006-08-29T12:36:00.000+01:00

because I'm not picking up new tricks, in fact I'm not learning from my mistakes any longer. On Friday night I should have stopped Mrs Zilla from opening another bottle of wine. Trying to move her from the sofa when she's fallen asleep is a thankless task. On Sunday we went to a birthday party for one of Godzooky 1's friends. He was six, and there were quite a few kids there. They'd put on an inflatable castle, with a, frankly, terrible Harry Potter theme. There was a dodgy owl perched on one side and a wizard looking child daubed on one wall. The final clue that led me to believe it was Harry Potter related were the large letters "HP" adorning the front of the thing. I always seem to end up with children following me round when we attend these sort of events. To be fair I don't adopt the usual adult trait of ignoring the kids and telling them to go off and play by themselves, so really I've only got myself to blame. I was driving, unlike all the other adults present, so the prospect of sitting with a soft drink watching everyone else get leathered didn't really appeal. I was quite concerned how Godzooky 2 would cope on the bouncy castle, but my fears were soon dismissed. She was happy to throw herself with utter abandonment from any part of the castle she could climb on. At one point she took a direct hit from a flying 6 year old, and I had that moment of "Oh here come the tears!", but she just laughed and got up. My fatal mistake came when I was cajoled by the kids into getting on the bouncy castle and trying to bounce them high. I gained huge kudos for doing so, and they were getting a huge buzz off it. Unfortunately my torn thigh muscle didn't like the sensations, and proved to be my undoing: I made the elementary mistake of falling on the floor of the castle. Prompting what felt like a million calls of "Piley On!", as all the little darlings flung themselves on top of me. It's a good job that no more kids are wanted, as tender areas of my body received several unwanted blows from elbows and knees. Still the Godzookies got the pleasure of being told that their dad was cool.

I love

2006-08-25T13:45:00.000+01:00

these short weeks. Only two days in work this week, a bank holiday next week, so that's only a four day week. Excellent! Here's a tip for any parents or budding parents. If you decide to show your children a local landmark from where you grew up, pick one that isn't atop the highest hill in the town. This week my children showed an interest in visiting the folly that dominates the town I'm from. It's a faux lighthouse, built in 1852 - and about a mile from the sea. It serves no purpose other than being a landmark and a legacy for a local businessman from that time.

So Godzooky 1 pesters me to climb up the hill and see the lighthouse. It's a nice day, so why not. It's been a long time since I went up there. Probably not since I last did cross country at school.

Mrs Zilla suggested that I take Godzooky 2 as well. Why not? She seemed keen.

Schoolboy error on my part.

Not even one third of the way up she wanted to be carried.

I should have seen this coming - she's only two, and small for her age.

Still the struggle to the top was worth it - the views are quite something.

Of course being a typical man, whilst struggling to carry a two year old, I decided not to take the path, but attempt a direct assault on the local equivalent of the North face of the Eiger.

All was well as I gathered my breath.

We were (unfortunately, as I was desperate to climb higher!) unable to enter the tower, as it was closed.

Then I realised that my schoolboy memories of cross country didn't include any of the way back down.

I didn't fancy abseiling back the way we came, so set off in the general direction that my memory prompted me to.

At that point I heard another group close by say, "Let's follow that man, he looks like he knows the way down"

A better man than me might have turned and said "Sorry, I am as clueless as you!".

I am not that man. I thought, well at least we're all in the same boat.

So I'm carrying Godzooky 2 again, trying to keep Godzooky 1 away from the sheer drops, whilst pretending to ignore the small group following in our footsteps.

They didn't follow for too long, especially when I strode confidently towards a ridge, only to discover one of the aforementioned sheer drops.

Ultimately my childhood memories did start to resurface and I found the official footpath, leading us back to civilisation.

Don't take small children up high, steep climbs unless you're prepared to carry them most of the way!

So I'm back...

2006-08-24T12:32:00.000+01:00

from outer space... get that song out of your head now! It reminds me that it's the Mardi Gras this coming weekend. For those out of towners, it's a big gay weekend, and full of the colour and glamour you would expect. I've always enjoyed driking in the Gay Village. The atmosphere always seems relaxed and welcoming regardless of your sexuality. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm happy with my sexuality that makes me feel comfortable compared to some people I know. A few people at work refuse point blank to drink in anywhere labelled gay. To me it seems their issues may be more deep rooted than mere bigotry. I have never been attracted to men and don't even think of the bars as "gay". To me the people in them are just that, people, good, bad, happy, sad (is that another song reference?) Anyway, enough of my rambling about the upcoming weekend. The trip to the Lakes was great. Batteries are well and truly recharged. The weather wasn't fantastic, but then what can you expect during the school holidays? We did the zoo as usual, and ventured out into Grizedale Forest, for some outdoor action. No, not that sort, the adventure playground sort, which the kids loved. We didn't get to wish on shooting stars, although from my past experiences it doesn't work too well anyway. Here's a new picture of Godzooky 3, as requested by Delboy's Daughter:

For some reason if he looks directly at the camera he always has his eyes shut.

He had his 8 month check up yesterday - he is freakishly long, very heavy and yet has a tiny head apparently. Make of that what you will.

Anyway I'm off to catch up on my favourite blogs, so that probably means yours!

Hooray Hooray It's a Holi-Holiday

2006-08-18T12:44:00.000+01:00

Only a few hours to go then I can whisk the family off to the Lakes for a few days. I am really looking forward to some quality time away from work. A certain member of staff has been adding to my woes considerably recently, and a few days without having to check up on her will be wonderful. Eeeek, just thought about what I might face when I get back! Ah well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. You know those moments when you realise that you've put your foot in it? I had a major one last night. I was talking to Mrs Zilla about watching shooting stars fly over, lying on our backs at night, whilst in the Lakes. Except it wasn't Mrs Zilla I'd done that with. Ooops! That's on our to do list now though! In other news it's the final of Big Brother tonight, and without doubt Pete is going to win it. I'm going to miss having him and his tourette's on tv. It's been really refreshing to have someone so honest and straight forward on it. Having him say "Wankers" every few minutes has also been a revelation. Can't see him getting a tv deal though! Also looking forward to the new football season starting tomorrow. I've created a monster though, Godzooky 1 is already asking when he can go to his first match of the season, and wanting to watch all the games on tv. Need to go and check the fixtures list so I can give him some good news hopefully. Well I'll be back next week, with lots of lovely stories and pictures I hope. Everyone play nice while I'm gone!

Tram girl revisited

2006-08-17T13:45:00.000+01:00

I almost forgot - that girl from the tram last week? Well I saw her again this morning. She looked most upset that I was properly attired. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. My ego is currently undergoing repairs and should be servicable by 2010.

Yesterday

2006-08-17T12:38:00.000+01:00

was a mixed bag of results. Got all my work related stuff done. Lowered the cot bed, so Godzooky 3 shouldn't be able to BASE jump from it. I achieved it without resorting to razor wire round the top of the cot either. We also managed to get out for a bit, and satisfied Godzooky 2's current appetite for jigsaws. The girl just can't get enough of them. She's just turned 2, but has been tackling ones designed for over 3s with ease. So yesterday I decided to try her out with a larger, more complicated one. Her patience and eye for detail astounds me. I thought she wouldn't cope with a jigsaw designed for a 5 year old, but she finished it really quickly. She does seem to be picking up things far quicker than Godzooky 1 did. I'm not sure if that's due to him acting as a role model for her (if he can be described as a role model!), or whether it's down to us as parents having more experience of teaching and developing abilities? Either way she does seem really quick to pick things up. Before this descends into a rose tinted, how great is my child post, I should mention the fact that her speech is virtually non-existent. Her regular vocabulary consists of yes and no. Occasionally she'll throw in a word like cat,book, mummy, daddy etc. trying to then get her to repeat it is a futile task. We had the same problem with Godzooky 1 - he was very late in starting to speak properly. He was put on a waiting list to receive speech therapy, but by the time he got an appointment he'd already started nursery and was beginning to improve quickly. I thought we wouldn't have the same problem with Godzooky 2 - with having an older sibling, but it just goes to show that you can never second guess these things. I'm not even going to go down the speech therapy road this time, by the time they pull their fingers out and get us an appointment she'll probably be reciting Shakepeare! One of the funny by-products of her lack of speech is Godzooky 1's amazing ability to interpret for her: Me : "Do you want a yoghurt?" Godzooky 1 immediately " She says no, but she wants me to have it instead !" cue response from Godzooky 2: " Noooooooooooooo!" priceless. My down side from yesterday was at football - warmed up fine. Then 10 minutes into the game my thigh muscle tore again. Looks like I'm heading for the scrapheap. I probably still stink of Deep Heat, but my nostrils have become accustomed to it. I've found another thing that keeps Mrs Zilla away in bed though. Now if I can only find the Anti-Deep Heat recipe I can make a fortune!

Sardines anyone?

2006-08-16T09:38:00.000+01:00

I'm having to try and cram everything in. Got to take a half day holiday. Godzooky 3 has developed the ability to sit up in his cot. So that needs lowering. Except I'm playing football again tonight (even though my leg doesn't feel 100%, they were short of players), so by the time I get home it'll be his bed time. Not giving me much time to adjust the cot bed that he's in. I can just squeeze some meetings in this morning, then meet a reporting deadline by lunchtime and then breathe again.

* RANT WARNING*

2006-08-15T12:43:00.000+01:00

I am going to indulge myself in a small rant, so feel free to ignore this next bit. It’s all to do with my travel to and from work. Normally the trams I get are full of business people, as you would expect. In the summer weeks they tend to be a lot quieter in the mornings, as people are on holiday. People are out and about later with their children on holiday. Why then do these people not use some common sense when it comes to getting home? Lately there have been influxes of grandparents with their grandchildren getting on a tram after 5pm. They then express surprise that there are no seats and it’s really crowded. Why? It’s rush hour. Everyone working is trying to get home. Why can’t they organise themselves to avoid the busiest times of the day, especially if they’re going to moan all the way about the lack of space and seats? I’m in danger of slipping into a related rant about why old people can’t do their shopping during the day, freeing up shops for those of us who have to work. So I’d better stop there!

I am grateful

2006-08-14T12:48:00.000+01:00

for at least one of my unique abilities (no, not the sexual one, which I won't go into detail about) : the one I mean is my ability to avoid hangovers. Friday night, old friends staying, COPIOUS amounts of alcohol consumed, a good time had by all (no, not that sort of good time). The next morning was a different story: everyone had a raging hangover, except smug little moi. For some reason Mother Nature has blessed me with never having a hangover. It doesn't matter how much, or what, I drink, I never suffer the next day. Where some people have a banging headache, queasiness and general malaise, the worst I have is a dehydrated feeling. If I sink a couple of pints of water I am back on good form and ready to tackle anything. This generally causes grumpiness amongst those who are suffering, and Saturday was no exception. Still, it meant that I was able to take care of all the children's needs, nappy and food related. If I did suffer in the same way that Mrs Zilla does, I certainly wouldn't be like her: suggesting another bottle of wine be opened. At least she had recovered sufficiently to embark on a trip later to enjoy the delights of the Sky Festival. We ventured far and wide, taking in the offering of Braniac, Cartoon Network and the Lazy Town show. Godzooky 2 is a big fan of Lazy Town, which is no bad thing as it encourages children to do exercise and eat healthily. The kids often ask for something "healthy" these days, although they do still clamour for McDonalds as well - such is the power of worldwide advertising I guess. I realised while we were watching the Lazy Town show that I was a mere 100 yards from the Manchester Blog Meet taking place at the same time. Having said that I was unaware of who was attending and don't read that many blogs that are local. I don't know why that should be, possibly I just haven't stumbled across many, or perhaps I'm more interested in things happening elsewhere? Anyhoo, I didn't venture into the world of real life meeting, I'm never very good on first meeting someone, it takes me a while to get into the flow. Plus my daughter sat on my shoulders wouldn't have appreciated losing her view of the show.

Language

2006-08-11T13:15:00.000+01:00

constantly evolves, as new words and trends come into play. Here are some new definitions that came my way: TESTICULATING . Waving your arms around and talking bollocks. BLAMESTORMING . Sitting around in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a project failed, and who was responsible. SEAGULL MANAGER . A manager, who flies in, makes a lot of noise, shits on everything, and then leaves. ASSMOSIS . The process by which people seem to absorb success and advancement by sucking up to the boss rather than working hard. SALMON DAY . The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get screwed and die. SITCOMs . Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. What yuppies turn into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with the kids or start a " home business " . SINBAD . single working girls. Single Income, No Boyfriend and Desperate. STRESS PUPPY . A person who seems to thrive on being stressed out and whiny. PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE . The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to work again. ADMINISPHERE . The rarefied organisational layers beginning just above the rank and file. Decisions that fall from the " adminisphere " are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve. This is often affiliated with the dreaded " administrivia " - needless paperwork and processes. 404 . Someone who's clueless. From the World Wide Web error message " 404 Not Found, " meaning that the requested document could not be located. OHNOSECOND . That minuscule fraction of time in which you realize that you've just made a BIG mistake (e.g. you've hit 'reply all') GOING FOR A McSHIT . Entering a fast food restaurant with no intention of buying food, you're just going to the toilet. If challenged by a pimply staff member, your declaration to them that you'll buy their food afterwards is known as a McSHIT with Lies. AEROPLANE BLONDE . One who has bleached/dyed her hair but still has a 'black box'. AUSSIE KISS . Similar to a French Kiss, but given down under. BEER COAT . The invisible but warm coat worn when walking home after a booze cruise at 3am. BEER COMPASS . The invisible device that ensures your safe arrival home after booze cruise, even though you're too drunk to remember where you live, how you got here, and where you've come from. MONKEY BATH A bath so hot, that when lowering yourself in, you go: "Oo!Oo!Oo! Aa!Aa!Aa!" . PICASSO BUM . A woman whose knickers are too small for her, so she looks like she's got four buttocks

Yesterday's Events

2006-08-11T13:07:00.000+01:00

have made me quite glad that I'm not travelling anywhere on holiday this year. Rather than speculate wildly about what happened and why, I'm going to wait for a little more information to emerge first. It's becoming apparent though that there is a real danger of a cultural split happening in this country. Muslims already react with scepticism that such things can happen, yet it seems to me that there is a very real threat from individuals hiding behind rhetoric and fervent beliefs. In a lighter vein, I never cease to be amazed at how quickly things like this pop up: My plans for the weekend centre around friends visiting tonight on their way North. It's one of my oldest friends, who I don't see anywhere near often enough, and I'm looking forward to reminiscing and catching up on new news. Tomorrow, weather permitting, the plan is to visit the Sky festival taking place in the city centre. All manner of child entertainment should be happening, and the godzookies seem quite excited about it. I'm really looking forward to Sunday, when my task is to tackle the enormous hedge that needs cutting. I hope the sarcasm came across slightly there. I may be performing a rain dance on Saturday night.

Picture this

2006-08-10T13:46:00.000+01:00

In response to Delboy's Daughter's request for a picture, I haven't got any of me on my pc. This should please Ticharu at least! However I do have a picture of Godzooky 1. He is without doubt a dead ringer for me - everywhere we go people comment on the likeness. So if you take this picture, substitute my black hair for his brown and age it about 30 years, this is me:

How did you get here?

2006-08-10T13:30:00.000+01:00

This is not some post about the birds and the bees, or a question regarding how you travel. Occasionally I like to have a look see at where the visitors to my blog come from. It's normally the usual visitors linking from their blogs, but once in a while there is a random link from another blog, which I suspect may well be people clicking the next blog button at the top of the page. The other source of visitors is from searches, and it always intrigues me to see what people have searched for that led them to my blog. One of the latest ones was a search for "What do you call a moose?" - I still haven't worked out how my blog came up in reference to that! My favourite one ever occurred this week. Someone was searching for " mature escort chorlton cum hardy" I was ranked second in the search! This was linked to my blog because of a meme that I filled out, part of which listed cars I'd had and places I'd lived. What a disappointment that must have been for the person seeking a different sort of entertainment! The other results from that search showed a different side to Chorlton that I never knew existed!

Close but no cigar

2006-08-09T12:51:00.000+01:00

You know that feeling where you know someone is watching you? It's almost indescribable, but you just know someone is staring at you. Well, that happened this morning on the tram to me. As I looked round I noticed a young,(well, younger than me!) good looking lady quickly darting her eyes away. So I get all surreptitious and watch out of the corner of my eye. After a few seconds she looks back, staring what seemed like most intently. So I turn my gaze back to her and she looks away again. This repeats another couple of times, until I actually catch her eye. She then smiled coyly and looked away. I moved, to check if it was definitely me she was staring at. I found a vantage point where I could see her reflected in one of the windows. No doubt about it, she was staring at me. This is an unusual occurrence for me. I'm sure a lot of you beautiful people out there have to endure the stares of strangers on a daily basis. So I shift position again, and start to stare straight at her, meaning that it's inevitable when she looks again, our eyes are going to meet. What I'm going to do next I don't know, but it feels like it needs to be done. When she does look again, it's clear she's not looking at my face, there is no eye contact. She's staring at my legs and then her gaze works upwards till it reaches my face. When she gets eye contact with me it clearly flusters her. She goes bright red and turns her back on me. Ok, I rationalise to myself - she was staring at you and was embarassed to get caught out. Perhaps I'm more attractive than I thought, I start to stroke my ego. All of a sudden the day seems a little brighter, and my disposition sunnier. Then I got to work, and as I sat down I realised that my zip was undone. Yes, that's the sound of my ego shattering!

Black Gold

2006-08-08T13:15:00.000+01:00

that's certainly what oil is turning into. Or should it be Black Platinum? Apparently there is a risk of petrol prices increasing to £1.20 per litre, or in old money almost £5.50 a gallon! For US visitors benefit that's about $10.40 a gallon. It's a good job that I don't do that many miles driving. My car is for days out and trips to the supermarket. In the last six months I think I've driven about 3,500 miles - well below the national average of 12,000. I think this potential price rise may cause more traffic on my tram - I hope the new influx of travellers don't have the fish aroma syndrome of some present passengers!

a BIG THANK YOU

2006-08-08T12:52:00.000+01:00

to Fluff, for emailing me about lack of comments. I was not ignoring anyone, I promise. I thought my posts had been particularly uninspiring or something. It appears that somehow all my comments were being stored for moderation. I never meant for that to happen, so either Blogger is playing me up, or I inadvertently clicked something I shouldn't. Either wayI am grateful to Fluff for pointing it out. Now all remains is for me to read these comments and reply where appropriate. Normal service should now be resumed....

300 not out

2006-08-07T12:36:00.000+01:00

this is my 300th post. How many of those have actually been any good is debatable. The rest and recuperation I was after this weekend never really materialised. Godzooky 1 went to a party on Saturday. One of the girls from his class is moving to Brighton, so it was a farewell party. He got quite emotional at the end when he had to say goodbye, and he said "See you soon Grace!". I gently pointed out that Grace was moving and he wouldn't see her soon. Cue a deluge of tears as the realisation hit home. I think he had a bit of a thing for her. As usual ( I always seem to end up like this) I was cajoled into leading the games at the party. I would never have thought 10 years ago that I would be organising games for fifteen young children. The worst part is that they seem to think that I'm as robust as they are! Godzooky 2 has turned 2 and the terrible 2s have started in earnest. She now wants to be carried everywhere, whereas a matter of weeks ago she was Miss Independent and refused to do anything other than walk. In other news I am slightly encouraged to read the results of a survey that looked into people's love lives. It transpires that not many people are getting a lot of sex. That doesn't make me feel any better, but at least I know I'm not suffering alone! Monday mornings don't you just love them?

Bring

2006-08-04T13:13:00.000+01:00

on the weekend. I'm tired, frustrated and ready for a break.

Meme

2006-08-03T13:12:00.000+01:00

Favourites: Favourite Colour: erm, blue, sort of darkish – could do with a colour chart about now Favourite Food: Indian Favourite Movie: I can’t put just one Favourite Sport: Football (the real type) Favourite Day of the Week: Sunday Favourite Season: Winter Favourite Ice Cream: Mint Choc Chip Currents: Current Mood: Frustrated Current Clothes: Blue suit trousers, purpley shirt, fetching, matching tie Current Desktop: whatever work have deemed fit (I can’t even remember what it looks like) Current Time:12:57pm Current Surroundings: Office Current Annoyances: A team member being a fuckwit. Current Thoughts: Shit, I’ve got that meeting shortly First: First Best Friend: Kevin, who I still keep in touch with Last: Last Drink: coffee Last Car Ride: at the weekend to the supermarket Last Crush: on the tram home last night Last Phone Call: Mrs Zilla to tell me that the kids are playing up Last CD played: Riot City Blues by Primal Scream Have you ever: Have you ever dated one of your best friends: no Have you ever broken the law: yes Have you ever been arrested: no Have you ever been on TV: yes, an extra in Cracker Have you ever kissed someone you didn’t know: yes Things: 5 things you are good at: annoying Mrs Zilla, making my kids laugh, cooking, talking up my footballing abilities and drinking alcohol 4 things you have done today: sorted the rubbish out before the bin men arrive, made my lunch, finished off some management accounts and surfed my favourite blogs 3 things you can hear right now: air conditioning, a phone ringing, an annoying laugh Tag You're it: If you feel like it

Holiday Souvenirs

2006-08-03T12:40:00.000+01:00

It's that time of year again when colleagues disappear off on holiday. We've got quite a large department, probably around 30 people. We used to have a tradition where people on holiday were required to bring back drinks coasters from their destination. The idea was to make them as tacky as possible. I spent a long time on some holidays searching for coasters, and then trying to pick the tackiest ones possible. On my Vegas trip I thought it was going to prove an impossible task to pick which ones were the tackiest! Any hoo, our desks soon became festooned with coasters, and we realised that this wa sgoing to have to end. Especially as people had about 25 coasters from Spain, the holiday destinations never tended to be that exciting. So now we have a new custom. Travellers must return with a native delicacy to share amongst those of us who were left behind. This has also brought it's own particular problem. The sweets and treats that come back from Spain and other Mediterranean haunts are really poor. I would hate to be a child growing up there. Ungrateful sod aren't I?

Rock n Roll Lifestyle

2006-08-02T12:30:00.000+01:00

is not how mine can be described. Last night saw me ironing, whilst listening to The Clash playing White Riot, I Fought the Law, London's Burning etc etc. The irony of it hit me part way through. Later saw me watching another TV programme: QI (an old episode being repeated). This is a recent find of mine. It's a sort of panel/quiz show. Yet with a strange approach. One of last night's questions was why should a ship's captain be concerned about carrying a cargo of pistachio nuts? It turns out that according to some maritime code they are classed as a dangerous cargo. Large quantities can apparently spontaneously combust! Pistachios are also not technically a nut. Neither are coconuts, they are berries! Another fact learnt last night was that balsa wood is technically a hard wood! Many interesting facts (hence QI: Quite Interesting) were gleaned. I was struck by something during the ad breaks. They were advertising kids chocolate bars, even though it was almost midnight! Then I realised the target market: stoners with the munchies! Why haven't the large petrol retailers picked up on this market too? After say 10pm, stop pimping us really expensive petrol and start with adverts like: "24 hour garages, we sell chocolate, snacks and cigarette papers! You know you want some now!" I remember many a visit to the all night garage, and there was always someone who would finish off their order with "Oh yeah and a packet of blue papers!" This is an untapped market. In fact forget you read this, I'm off to patent the idea now!

Weddings

2006-08-01T12:40:00.000+01:00

I watched an interesting programme on TV last night. They took a page of newlyweds photos from a local paper in Brighton, back in 1981 and tried to follow through the results of the marriages. The age ranges and demographics of the couples varied widely. The youngest bride was 17, with a husband of 27, the oldest bride 60, and her husband 71. The notions of what marriage meant were far more traditional than todays. Quite a few of the brides were virgins, and most were moving from their parents homes. Interestingly the bonds that kept people together varied enormously too. Some couples had decided that they never wanted children, and that had kept them together - enjoying each other's company and travelling. One man freely admitted that he wasn't in love when he got married, but that he definitely was now.

Out of the 20 marriages, I think around 12 were still going strong, which fits in with most statistics I suppose.

It got me to thinking about how I felt about my marriage, as Mrs Zilla lay soaking in the bath. We didn't get married in the traditional way, as I've already blogged about. We've been together for almost 11 years, and married for just 5. We got married in Las Vegas, just the two of us, although it was broadcast on the internet for interested family and friends! We already had Godzooky 1 by this point. I'm really not sure what marriage has altered in the long term compared to when we were merely living together. In the legal sense it gives me parental rights, and provides more security for Mrs Zilla. Relationship wise I think it made things slightly rocky for a while. We'd talked about marriage and children previously. Marriage was never high on our list, and children were discussed, with the idea that Mrs Zilla wanted to be 28 before that happened. As usual the fickle finger of fate got involved and Mrs Zilla was pregnant at 24. The first of her friends to do so, but she was also the only one in any kind of stable relationship. We'd alreday been together for 3 years, lived together and bought a house. I proposed when Godzooky 1 was around 18 months old. People had stopped asking when we were going to get married, so it seemed less like we were doing it to appease people! The marriage definitely upset the rhythm of the relationship. I think Mrs Zilla felt that she was almost trapped, when most of her friends were still relatively carefree, although more of them had got married, none yet had children. It seems to me that having had Godzooky 1 was in some paradoxical way both the cause of the problem and also the glue that made us work through a difficult time. So where are we now? Comfortable I guess. We know each other really well and what makes us tick. We seldom argue, and if we do it tends to be over trivial things. The only flaw I can find is the declining passion, but then I guess after 11 years I shouldn't expect fireworks? Do I still see us being together long term? Unless something goes fundamentally wrong I don't see why not, but then who knows what's round the corner?

Hmmmm

2006-07-31T12:50:00.000+01:00

I seem to do the same thing each night/weekend - think or experience something that I think is blog worthy, then when I get to the create post option, all sense and ideas desert me. Is that blogger's block? Or perhaps my subconcious telling me that it isn't relly worth blogging about? The weekend was spent mainly in our own garden, enjoying the sunshine whilst tidying the garden. I enjoyed sitting out with Mrs Zilla, once the godzookies were in bed, just chatting about life, reminiscing and drinking some good wine. Then again I also enjoyed the high powered water pistols we bought too! Sometimes I walk around the house and find it hard to believe that it's mine (well at least 60% of it is mine, the rest I still owe the bank for!). I guess it's because it's a grown up house if that makes sense. It's a family house. Yes, I know that I'm a family man in his 30s, but most of the time in my head I'm around 23, so it feels kind of weird to have the house, car, kids set up. This probably makes little or no sense, and I have no idea why I should still feel this way. Perhaps my own senses of achievement and accomplishment aren't strong enough for me to realise that I am crashing towards middle age. I don't think it's fear of assessing where I am at. When I sit down and coldly assess things, I'm happy with my children, I like my house, my surroundings and even my job for most of the time. My career has constantly moved on, I've been working at the same place for 13 years now, and been getting fresh challenges along the way. Perhaps my lack of awareness was highlighted recently by events at school. I was taking godzooky 1 to and from school due to Mrs Zilla's broken ankle. As a result I saw the fevered worry of some other parents as to their progeny's school report. A brief outline of the school structure might help here. Children start off in Reception class. Most then move to Year 1, although there is also an option of Year1/2. This is a class for the gifted Reception pupils and also a holding class for those not deemed bright enough to move from Year 1 to Year 2. So recent parental fears have focussed on whether their child will end up in Year 1/2 or move on to Year 2. I found myself amazed that what I had thought were rational, normal people were getting so concerned over which class their child ended up in. To me the utmost important thing is that Godzooky 1 enjoys going to school. If he's happy, then he will surely do better, that seems like common sense to me. The ultimate proof of this is a boy who went staright from Reception to Year 1/2. He has gone from being a top performer to being one of the worst. Does my attitude of caring more about Godzooky 1's happiness than his academic prowess make me a good or bad parent? As it happens he is near the top of reading, writing and maths anyway. I prefer him to be happy and near the top, than for me to push him and him be top in subjects and miserable. Perhaps again I am drawing on my own experiences too much. I was very able at school, but didn't push myself, to my parents annoyance. To me that seemed the right way to be. Watch me change my attitude over the next couple of years!

Dante's Inferno

2006-07-31T12:48:00.000+01:00

So here's a little test I stumbled across, to discover which circle of hell I might well end up in: The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very High
Level 7 (Violent)	Moderate
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test Not sure what to make of all that, but it looks like I'm in trouble!

At Last

2006-07-28T12:34:00.000+01:00

The camera finally works!

So here are picture from the zoo:

The kids love the lemur feeding, as the cute little critters take the fruit out of your hand. They have the run of the park, and they have priority over you (the lemurs that is!)

Any lying on the floor sunbathing should be left alone and negotiated without disturbing them. They form raiding parties to attack the picnic areas. If it isn’t nailed down they’ll have it. One made off with a green dummy that Godzooky 3 had! I guess it thought it was fruit. I have a lovely mental image of lemur still sucking on this everlasting grape! The tiger feeding is quite spectacular:

They put the meat at the top of the poles, not just for the spectacle, but because they want the tigers to work for their food, as they would in the wild. It’s a very ethical wildlife park. They have formed close bonds with Sumatra to help conserve the tigers and sell gifts from the area, to give the local people an alternative income to killing the tigers for skins/body parts.

It's Official

2006-07-27T12:52:00.000+01:00

I am getting old. My body is starting to rebel against me. Or does that mean that my body is a teenager? Last night at football I managed to strain my thigh muscle. Ten minutes from the end. I NEVER get any major muscle injuries. I've tweaked the odd calf and hamstring, but by the next day been right as rain. Normally I can run off any niggles, and I did attempt this last night. I think I made it worse by attempting an audacious volley shot. Then I had to go in goals for the rest of the game. I put ice on it as soon as I got home, and that helped slightly. Today I still feel like someone is digging a blade into my thigh. I've checked under my desk for malicious dwarves, but the truth cannot be ignored: I am injured. My legs were certainly warm enough last night, it was scorchio in the sun. I now dread ending up like some of the older guys who play, they seem to pick up injuries on a constant basis, swapping ancecdotes about recovery times and the size of swellings (oo-er!) So it looks like a few weeks out for me. I'll just do a search for walking stick websites, I may be needing them shortly....

Sports Day

2006-07-26T12:40:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was Godzooky 1's sports day. All families invited to attend, cheer on their progeny and partake of a picnic on the school field. The sports were the usual fayre: Egg and spoon race Sack race Running race Bean bag relay race Running with a Quoit on your head race (I'm ignorant of any technical term for this) Skipping race and finally the Crab race (not a competition to pick up the earliest recordrd STD, but two children link arms back to back, then run sideways down the course!) Godzooky 1 put up a respectable showing, winning the running race, the egg and spoon and the relay race. His dismal showing in the skipping race was matched by other male competitors. They lacked the natural coordination and grace required to excel at this one! The Fathers' race saw me finish in the top 10, which I was pleased about. Some of these guys had started having kids early, so were in their early 20s. Thankfully I am nowhere near the oldest dad, so there were easy pickings for me too! Of course at his age winning is everything, and he didn't share my happiness at such a placing. I like to think I am leading by example, and he will come to recognise my effort! One thing made a lasting impression on me yesterday. All the staff gathered at the end and I noticed (for some reason) that there were no male teachers. The only male members of staff were the Headmaster and the caretaker. The predominant characteristics of the teachers were that they were young blonde ladies. Call me cynical, but methinks the headmaster is cultivating his own personal harem. I prefer brunettes personally, but yesterday I was beginning to see how a smarter career choice could improve my working surroundings dramatically!

My Bumper Sticker

2006-07-24T13:23:00.000+01:00

Your Bumper Sticker Should Be

I've made smarter things than you by eating fiber

What Bumper Sticker Should Be On Your Car?

That was the weekend

2006-07-24T13:09:00.000+01:00

A good weekend was had by all at Grandma Zilla's. The worst part of the weekend was trying to resolve the results of Godzooky 1's bad hair day at school. A liberal amount of red hair colour was sprayed onto him Friday morning. When he came out of school he looked like an extra from a slasher movie. It had all run down his neck and face. Some persistent scrubbing at Grandma Zilla's removed most of the dye, leaving him with a reddish tinge, which made him look healthy and constantly out of breath! The weather was still ridiculously hot, despite being near the sea and up a lot higher. The zoo has had yet more alterations, and was thoroughly enjoyable. Even if you have to watch for lemurs stealing your food! Pictures were taken, but the camera now seems to be playing up. As soon as you switch it on it flashes "Warning Low Battery" at you and then switches itself straight off. Even if you put new batteries in. I suspect someone may have dropped it at some point, and is refusing to admit responsibility. So pictures may appear, depending on the camera co-operating. Rants about motorway driving may appear over the next few days, be warned. Tomorrow is school sports day, and I am hoping for a good showing in the fathers' race.

Quick One

2006-07-21T12:10:00.000+01:00

before I disappear to the Lakes.... why is it that you can fall asleep in the sun when it's 75 degrees, yet at night time the same temperature keeps you awake? Right, off to have fun now!

Questions for Lord Tich Esquire

2006-07-20T13:44:00.000+01:00

Ok Ticharu asked for some questions as well, so here are yours T my man: 1. Which one song would you like the whole world to hear? 2. How long do you think it will take to finish your house? Not including the pool of course! 3. Where in the world would you most like to visit? 4. What do you think your biggest achievement has been? 5. You can remove one thing from the planet - what is it? Hope these give you something to go at, and I look forward to reading the answers!

2006-07-20T13:16:00.000+01:00

Bloody rubbish work server hasn’t let me get have access to t’internet. “So how are you writing this rubbish then?” Ah, well you see I can write this in Word then cut and paste it into Blogger when the stupid ISP sorts itself out. From previous comments (see below) I must admit to being intrigued as to how the other Brit Snav knows managed to piss her off. Further to Snav’s comments, I did have a list prepared with reasons for the 364 other days of the year when I post crap. But the dog ate it. We don’t have a dog, but the virtual terrier that is my delete button took it all away, probably to worry it in some dark corner of the ether. You can’t prove otherwise either! Anyway – what’s happened in my blogging absence, I hear you ask. Mrs Zilla’s cast has now come off, so she can start doing some thing to help round the house! In other news Godzooky 3’s weaning has started in earnest, and some of the solids are actually disappearing into his mouth, rather than getting smeared all over clothes, furnishings etc Unfortunately, he has chosen this point to learn how to blow raspberries as well. Often he chooses to start this during feeding time – must be something to do with the texture of the food hitting his mouth. He’s developed quite a spray range. He’s very talented for one so young. I can’t remember if I’ve posted a recent picture of him, so here’s one anyway: Hopefully, no, definitely, we are off to Grandma Zilla’s this weekend. This should mean less stress for me regardless of the fracture clinic results. It also means a chance to mix with psychotic emus and manic lemurs at the local zoo, although the warm weather might slow them and us down. Right, time to test the internet availability again. Oh look, it worked, I can post this now!

A new week

2006-07-17T13:56:00.000+01:00

brings new challenges. Today I am mostly process mapping - detailing every decision and process we make to complete our jobs. Anyway here are 5 questions for G and Sessy as they asked for them: G: 1. You’ve talked about wanting your own house. What would it ideally be like? 2. How are the British perceived by Americans? (nice general one there!) 3. What skill or ability would you like to have? 4.What’s your favourite childhood memory? 5.What makes you laugh out loud? Sessy: 1. How did you end up doing a thesis involving mummy tissue? 2. What was your best night out ever? 3. What would your ideal man be like? 4. You can only ever play one game again, what would it be? 5. What single thing would you change about your life right now? I hope there's nothing too controversial there, and I look forward to the answers!

Picture

2006-07-14T16:01:00.000+01:00

a whirlwind of paper and spreadsheets. Lots of money needing to be paid out. That's why there is no entertaining, witty post, or in fact any questions for G. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. The other 364 days of the year I've got no explanation for!

5 Questions

2006-07-12T14:12:00.000+01:00

I asked Snav for 5 questions, following her answering 5 that had been set for her. Thank you for giving me the challenge, and there was certainly nothing there to offend me! I feel honoured to be one of the first three to receive questions from you. 1 Why do people in England insist on driving on the wrong side of the road? The short answer is we don’t, you do! Ok, the serious answer now. My understanding is that it arose from the days of horse drawn carriages. The drivers of those would sit on the right hand side, so that their whips would not hit passing pedestrians when they were wielded. This could be totally untrue, but would seem sensible to me. Being creatures of habit when the automobile came along the tradition continued. Having driven abroad I don’t think it makes that much difference, unless after a 10 hour flight you forget to change sides of the road, like I did! 2. Blood Pudding (or Black Pudding as it’s known round these parts) – why would anyone want to eat such a thing? This one seems to have provoked a large response on your blog Snav! I , for one, wouldn’t want to eat such a thing, but there are huge companies that make a lot of money producing and selling the things. It’s a very traditional foodstuff, and it’s popularity seems to be dying out with the older generations. Locally there are plenty of markets with stalls that specialise in the delicacy (I use the word advisedly) My boss is a great fan of the black pudding, and he insists it is delicious. Mrs Zilla had it as a child, then, when she found out what it was, wouldn’t touch it again! For more information visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blood_sausage Or for those who don’t enjoy blood: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_pudding And if that’s whetted your appetite then why not try some tripe? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tripe All these are available locally and eaten regularly by people of a certain generation and taste bud! 3. How does “a man of numbers” become Godzilla? Man of Numbers seemed a good name for a blog as I am an accountant, therefore work more with numbers than letters, so I twisted Man of Letters. Well I am fairly monstrous, not only in the looks department, but fairly tall and fairly broad too, so on one level it fits me. It’s also a username that I’ve had on a football forum that I use, so when prompted for a name on Blogger it sprang to mind. For once my first choice wasn’t taken! So, I guess a supplementary question would be, “why use it there then?” Well, the supporters of the team I follow, Middlesbrough, are known by their rivals as Smogmonsters or Smoggies, a derogatory term because of the large petro-chemical industry prevalent in the area. To reduce the barb of the slur, the fans actively embrace the term. One of the Godzilla films was Godzilla vs the Smogmonster, so it seemed quite apt to adopt it. Of course on another level it may be because I see myself as having hidden depths and rising to save the day when needed! 4. If they don’t rule, why have a monarchy? Technically the queen does rule. She opens parliament every year, after the summer recess. When the Prime Minister wishes to call a General Election, he must first inform the queen of his intention to do so. Before a law can come into effect it must receive “Royal Assent” – i.e the queen must agree to the law, even though it has been debated and voted upon by the Houses of Commons and Lords. In reality the queen is merely a figure head, and she is compelled to do the above actions. The passage of a law has never been hindered by the monarch. That’s why it’s only a technicality that she does rule – she can’t introduce laws or change the way the country is governed. Apart from that the monarchy is a good money spinning tourist attraction, they are supposed to generate a lot of overseas visitors. They also serve as a figurehead for the Commonwealth; all those countries we previously ruled, but didn’t manage to defeat us in a war of independence! What value they place on the monarchy is open to debate! Lastly the presence of a monarchy reminds us peasants of our place in society, and who we should defer to! 5 It’s tea time, besides tea of course, what are we having? This might well depend on where you live and whether you’re part of the monarchy! Where I was brought up, in the Lake District (in the North of the country) tea time meant the evening meal. As in “Mum what’s for tea?” However, what I think your referring to, is the custom of a late afternoon ritual involving ladies. As well as tea, it would be customary to have sandwiches and cakes, preferably served on a tiered stand. The choice would depend on personal taste, but stereotypically would be cucumber sandwiches (with the crusts cut off) cut diagonally, followed by a cream cake. There are still tea shops in existence, where such rituals can be found. These tend to be in touristy areas, such as York or other traditional English cities who trade on the tourist presence. Large, expensive hotels will still provide a traditional High Tea. I believe the Dorchester in London is one of the favoured amongst the high and mighty. Thanks for the questions Snav, I am more than willing to answer any areas of doubt or bits that I have not answered fully - so ask away.... This seems liek a good thing to keep going, so if anyone wants their own 5 questions let me know, and I'll try to make then as good as Snav's!

I am

2006-07-11T12:32:00.000+01:00

still alive, but merely functioning rather than living. The grey skies are still above, despite the sunshine visible out of my window. Ho hum better get on with things...

Fings wot I ave lerned

2006-07-07T13:10:00.000+01:00

In a lighter vein than the post below, having seen this on Lily's and Snav's blogs, I thought I would try and see what music has taught me: 1. The Clash told me Career Opportunities are the ones that never knock 2. The Wedding Present reminded me that You Should Always Keep In Touch With Your Friends 3. The Rolling Stones told me to Paint It Black 4. The Blow Monkeys told me that choice is for some, but not for everyone 5. Violent Femmes taught me how to Add It Up 6. Spear of Destiny showed me that since you ask nothing of me, I give to you all my love 7. The Ramones grabbed me, so Hey ho, let’s go! 8. Joy Division lamented that Love Will Tear Us Apart 9. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds made me realise you are a little mystery to me, every time you call around 10. N.W.A. told me to Express Yourself 11. The Pixies asked Where Is My Mind? 12. The Mission showed me how you make me feel like a child again 13. Cud told me I’ve said it before, I should be glad, I’ll say it again, cos I’m feeling sad 14. Saint Etienne described how rain falls like Elvis tears 15. Talk Talk taught me Life’s What You Make It 16. Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction reminded me that I’m just a melted clown that let you down 17.ABBA taught me that The Winner Takes It All 18.Massive Attack reminded me that I should Be Thankful For What You’ve Got 19. Primal Scream taught me that a little piece of soul is worth more than gold 20. Pop Will Eat Itself advised me to Wise Up Sucker! 21. The Buzzcocks know that I’m an Orgasm Addict 22. Manic Street Preachers showed me that the less she gives, the more you need her 23. Kylie Minogue knows we all get hurt by love 24. The Stooges know that I’m so messed up, I want you here 25. The Killers taught me to Smile Like You Mean It

7/7

2006-07-07T12:57:00.000+01:00

We've just had a national 2 minute silence to remember the first anniversary of the London underground and bus suicide bomb attacks. These were such cynical and calculating attacks - suicide bombers targetting rush hour public transport to inflict maximum casualties. They were not foreign terrorists either. These were all young men born and raised in Britain. Through studying Islam they became extremists, believing that they would be furthering their cause by murdering people going about their daily business. I struggle to understand this on a few different levels. If they had issues with the presence of British troops in Afghanistan and Iraq, then why not join the militias in those areas fighting those combatants? The answer they would probably give is that they wanted to bring the conflict to our shores and to make the public think about the involvement we have in those areas. But their attacks were so random that they had no way of knowing who they were killing. Picking a soft civilian target only seems to harden the resolve of those who can make decisions to never capitulate to the extremists' demands. It also hardens the public's stance, and only seems to have generated mistrust and build barriers between communities. Yes they've instilled fear into people, but these are people who have no real way of changing events. All major political parties over here have backed the stance the current government has taken. What saddens me more are the results of an opinion poll published this week. A survey of muslims in this country revealed that 5% would actively encourage or support their children if they joined Al Qaeda. A further 12% would be indifferent if their children joined Al Qaeda. That's almost one in five muslims not particularly concerned that their children might get involved with a terrorist organisation. What chance do we have for peace and unity with those sorts of attitudes prevailing?

Uninspired

2006-07-06T12:35:00.000+01:00

I'm feeling fed up, totally and utterly hacked off. So there's no joy here today. Hmmmm, nothing new there then.

4th of July Follow Up

2006-07-05T12:43:00.000+01:00

My post yesterday raised a few issues, and I thank Snav and Sessy for taking the time to read it and post interesting comments. As I've got nothing else to offer today I might as well delve a little further into it. Sessy hits the nail pretty on the head when she says: "But I think that it is difficult for us as a nation to pull together because of our history. Wales is a conquered territory, people here can still fiercely protective of their national identity as Welshmen (or women. And I think the same can be said of the Scots." This is the real crux of our problems - our history divides us. Every constituent nationality sees the others as an enemy or rival. I was shocked with some of the reports in recent weeks surrounding the World Cup side show. How can Scots physically assault a 7 year old boy and a disabled man, just for wearing an England football shirt? That is surely taking hatred, or racism too far? I've always found myself supporting the Scots or Welsh when they are involved in any international competition. Obviously the same can't be said for everybody, and I have friends who will not support the other "home nations". To me that is just perpetuating petty rivalries, and who needs that? There are enough real issues in the world to deal with, we don't need to add insignificant ones to the mix. Snav comments: "Someone I know from England once implied that your country "let the colonies go" - I was never more insulted as an American. Whatever!!" To be honest there are people who do believe that. Some people find it hard to admit defeat, or to face up to the facts that cause such uprisings. It's easier to kid yourself that we didn't want to be inolved any more. Right, that'll be why we fought a war then? As a realist, I take the view that such an Empire was unsustainable, especially when the natives start taking issue with the rule from afar. Both Sessy and Snav make good points about trying to find a day that we can all celebrate: Sessy: "Britain is four countries in one, so I think that finding a day that all of us can pull together would be difficult. Celebrating war victories could be considered a reminder of the supression that the other portions of the island were subjected to." and Snav: "Regarding Trafalgar Day, LOL!! We've been celebrating the 4th of July for 230 years - you can't just pick a day out of a hat and begin embracing it! Too funny!" The real problem here is that the government are trying (for once) to create a new holiday that we can take pride in as a nation, and are clutching at straws with Trafalgar Day. They know that we need a focus that can pull us all together, as it seems that on a daily basis there are more fractures and cracks appearing in our society. We need a day that all of Britain can celebrate, as Sessy points out all parts of this Kingdom have been suppressed at one point or other. The best ideas I can come up with are still related to war though. Let's face it, it's the on ething in our history that we can look back and see some sort of success in! I was going to suggest the Battle of Britain - without the heroics of a few pilots the German Luftwaffe would have ruled the skies over Britain, but there is no single day attributable to this - it was a sustained defence over a period of time. The other idea I had occurred to me as I watched and read details of the anniversary of the Battle of the Somme, this last weekend. So many young soldiers, concsripts mainly died in such a short space of time. Hardly a cause for celebration, I know. But the soldiers came from all corners of our country, to fight against a common enemy and to return peace to Europe, no matter how fragile it turned out to be. A celebration of what they sacrificed for others would be a fitting tribute, wouldn't it? Although, even as I write that, doubts creep over me. I know that we do need something to knot the nations together, but getting a relevant and coherrent answer seems to be quite tricky. It must be attempted though, because as Snavy ends with: "But, having something as a nation to pull you together is a truly amazing thing." I'd quite like to experience that

4th of July

2006-07-04T12:39:00.000+01:00

I would like to wish all the American visitors I have a very Happy 4th of July. The history books we used at school undoubtedly differed enormously from yours in terms of how the events leading to Independence are recorded. Ultimately I look at the history of our nation with a slight bewilderment. How did such a small nation as ours manage to achieve the large Empire and colonies that we once had? I’m pretty damn sure it wasn’t through sweet talking, persuasion or bringing gifts. I don’t doubt that there was tyranny and injustice throughout the lands that we ruled. Man’s inhumanity to man always seems to surface too readily. I was watching a programme last night about the second world war, and it detailed some of the atrocities that took place. Such was the willingness of certain Baltic countries to align themselves with the German invaders, that some of them murdered their Jewish populations before the Nazis even arrived! But returning to the subject of American Independence, to me the disintegration of the British Empire was always going to be inevitable. How could any country hope to control so many different regions of the world, and act so aggressively towards them, without expecting some kind of revolution to take place? As is currently being demonstrated in various arenas of conflict, it is hard, even in this modern day, to maintain control over regions that contain militant dissidents. The Americans fought for their Independence and won, and deservedly so in my opinion. What you have shown us is how to celebrate an occasion. I cannot think of any event that we celebrate with even 20% of the effort you put into the 4th of July. St Georges’s Day (our national Saint) over here passes with a whimper. None of the unreserved celebrations that accompany St Patrick’s Day, for us staid English. We hope constantly for a national triumph to unite the nation, and this hope always seems to be pinned on the achievements of our national football team. They never fail to disappoint, so at least we achieve consistency, if not the success we need to spark something. There is talk of creating a day for us to celebrate. Trafalgar Day is being proposed in some areas – to celebrate our defeat of the French in 1815. Whatever gets decided, we need something as a nation to pull us together in a similar fashion as today does for Americans. I hope every American enjoys the celebrations, as the effort and belief put into them shames the pathetic attempts we have over here to raise national pride.

Where have I been?

2006-07-03T13:22:00.000+01:00

I found this and had to give it a go. You can click on all the parts of Britain that you've visited. We live on quite a small island, yet I seem to have covered England pretty well, but the neighbouring Sctland and Wales remain to be fully explored.

I feel slightly ashamed by that, and am no doubt missing out on an awful lot.

For those needing light relief

2006-06-30T12:44:00.000+01:00

here's a little something that a friend showed me. If you're feeling fed up, spend a little time watching the Sea Otter Cam See them having fun certainly brightens your mood. There are plenty of other cams to choose from, should otters not be your bag.

A thought

2006-06-30T12:40:00.000+01:00

I realise that there is a current craze for "pimping" cars. Some of the things people seem willing to do to their cars amaze me. What I have yet to fathom though: Do they make their exhausts sound really loud to drown out the crap music they insist on playing, or is the music really loud to drown out the annoying exhaust note? I guess it's a bit chicken or egg!

Celebrities

2006-06-29T08:31:00.000+01:00

Early post today - another half day in the office. I'm taking holidays to ensure Godzooky 1 gets to a birthday party. That boy has a better social life than me at the moment! I read on G's blog about her celeb spotting in a local mall, and mentioned that I had met David Beckham. This seemed to provoke some interest, so I thought I'd post about it. It was a few years ago, when he still played for Manchester United. It was the local football derby game, Manchester United vs Manchester City. At the time we only had Godzooky 1 and we'd been out for the day. Feeling lazy we decided to grab a burger on the way home and were passing a Burger King near to Manchester United's ground. So we pulled into a parking space and Mrs Zilla went in to get the food, while I waited in the car with a sleeping Godzooky. I'm sitting there, when another car pulls into the space alongside me, it's a silver Ferrari with tinted windows. The driver swings his door open and bashes the side of my car with it. Such is the crunch that Godzooky wakes up. The other guy is just walking away. So I open my door and shouted "Hey!" When he turned round, yes, it was David Beckham. I think he thought I must be yet another fan after an autograph, because he had a wry smile on his face, a sort of, "yes, it's me" look. Not being a Manchester United fan I wasn't particularly bothered about it being him, I was more aggrieved at him bashing my car. Celebrities are just people after all. So I asked him why he had hit my car with his door, and he said that he didn't realise he had, which I found hard to believe. I made him come back to the car to see if there was any damage, but there wasn't. I pointed out to him that he should take more care when opening his door in future. To his credit, he did eventually apologise, and then went off to get his burger. When Mrs Zilla came back with the food, she was singing his praises, about how nice he smelled. My lasting impression of the whole experience though, is the shoddy tinting of his car windows - it was full of air bubbles. Why pay £200,000 for a car and then have an idiot tint your windows?

Three more weeks (at least)

2006-06-28T13:16:00.000+01:00

I took Mrs Zilla to the fracture clinic this morning, for her first appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon. He reviewed her X-Rays and swiftly concluded that the cast stays, at least until her next appointment in three weeks. Not the news that either of us wanted to hear. She's already fed up of not being mobile - and her lack of upper body strength isn't helping her get around well on her crutches. We had tears again as she tried to get to the fracture clinic. I don't like to sound unsympathetic, but she doesn't cope well with discomfort or pain. I'd really rather it was me with the broken ankle - I do try to get on with things, and not complain too much. Plus I wouldn't have to get up with Godzooky 3 every hour during the night because he's teething! On a lighter note here's a man who would cope perfectly well without the use of one limb:

Harry Kahne, was an extraordinary human being. In the picture above, he is writing with both hands, both feet, and his mouth simultaneously. The right hand is writing backwards and in reverse, and the mouth is writing backwards but correctly. Just one of his many extraordinary multitasking feats

I could

2006-06-27T12:53:00.000+01:00

write another post that would have an "Oh woe is me" scent to it, but I'll endeavour to park my problems at the door. *Firm wipe of the shoes* I saw this on G's blog, so thought I'd give it a go: Six Weird Things about me: 1) To truly enjoy an apple I have to quarter it before eating. Whilst I've not got a compulsive need to do this, I can eat apples the normal way, I don't enjoy them as much. I don't know why that should be. 2) I have an inordinate number of freckles and moles on my body. Yes, even one on that part of my anatomy. (I could see you thinking!) I could be almost a human dot to dot book - the pictures that could be produced are innumerable. 3) I am perfectly happy with my own company, and could quite happily spend a lot of time alone. I think this comes from being an only child , and having a lot of self reliance as a youngster for entertainment. 4) If I start reading a book, I have to finish it. No matter how dreadful the book it must be completed. That probably is OCD in action. 5) Further to my book obsession, I cannot stand to see a book with the spine bent backwards. It just seems wrong to me to treat a book that way. 6) I like to understanding things, the way they are and what causes them. My mother tells a story of me crying at the end of my first day at school. Not because I was upset or unsettled, but because I hadn't learnt how to read properly. That probably says a lot about me too. I found that quite hard to do - I don't see a lot of weirdness in my behaviour or tastes. If it was Mrs Zilla I would have had trouble picking the top 6 weird things. She has borderline OCD on most things she eats. Chocolate bars have to be assessed as to which end has the thicker chocolate (to be saved till last). She cannot bear to touch polystyrene or "rough wool". The list seems endless. Perhaps my "normality" is only a reflection of how I see myself compared to her?

Another weekend - another problem

2006-06-26T12:44:00.000+01:00

I don't know what it is - karma? the alignment of celestial bodies? the fickle finger of fate? or just strange coincidence? I do try not to make all these posts whinging, sour tasting and painting a drab picture, but at the moment life just seems to be biting me on the arse, and not in that horseplay, sounds like it might be fun type way. Life means it, and I've got the teeth marks to prove it. If you're looking for sweetness and light please peruse the links on the right - they're all damn good blogs and you may find a ray of sunshine contained therein. This post is not a happy one, but then I'm not in a happy place at the moment. So, after a long hard week at work I left on Friday evening. We had a plan, a good one too. Godzooky 1 was at a friends house. We were to get some supplies, wine, nice food etc, swing by this friend's house, pick him up, home, bath kids in bed and relax. Sounds good, I was looking forward to it and then one of the above culprits decided to mix up the evening a little bit. Shopping was good and easy, we arrived spot on time to pick Godzooky 1 up, so far so good. However, as she walked across the front lawn of this house, Mrs Zilla went down like there had been a shot from the grassy knoll. So I get out of the car and go to check on her. She's screaming and crying, saying that she think's she's broken her ankle. So a quick scoop up of Godzooky 1 and I manage to help her get to the car. We drop the kids off at her mum's and head for casualty. We don't go to our nearest hospital, as we know from bitter experience that it's X-Ray dept closes at 5pm on a Friday. If we go there we'll be sent home to wait till Monday. The NHS is great. So we head for the main hospital in the city. It's around 7pm by now, so I'm hoping that we're going to miss the Friday night rush, that'll come later when the pubs and clubs shut. Anyhoo, she get's X-rayed and it's a confirmation of a fractured ankle bone. Plaster required. Of course, there's none of the plaster boots available that you can walk on, so she'll have to be on crutches for at least two weeks, and possibly up to six weeks. To be fair to the National Health Service we were dealt with in under two hours, which is pretty good going. So we got the kids home around 9.30pm and finally got to eat our food around 10.45pm, once I'd got the Godzookies in bed and cooked. Neither of us had a particularly great appetite anyway. There were lots of tears as Mrs Zilla endeavoured to get up the stairs. Saturday and Sunday have just been a blur - I've run about doing all the household things, sorting out the kids and Mrs Zilla's needs. To cap off a wonderful weekend I was up most of last night with Godzooky 3. He's decided that now will be a good time to start teething. Great, just what I needed. So this morning was another whirlwind, getting everyone up and dressed. Godzooky 1 delivered to school and to be picked up later. At least Mrs Zilla's mum is going round to help look after the two youngest. These are going to be very long weeks, I can tell. I hope you all had a far better weekend than me. Please ignore all doom laden comments that I may leave on your blogs, it's just where I am at the moment!

This isn't

2006-06-23T13:06:00.000+01:00

the lost post from yesterday - Blogger clearly deemed that unworthy of posting! This is related to it slightly though. *peeks to make sure Blogger isn't looking* I was going to post about my habit of buying old albums on CD whenever there's a sale on, and my lack of new purchases. So last night after playing my "new" CDs I put on another oldie, dating from when I was about 17. Before I'd left the Lakes to go to college. You know how a song can just transport you back to a certain time, well this one certainly did: A Million Miles by The Wedding Present: I must have walked past this doorway thirty times Just trying to catch your eye, You made it all worthwhile When you returned my smile It all became worthwhile Does it feel a little cold stood by the door? Oh I’d really like to talk some more Don’t worry about your friend I think she left some time around ten What was your name again? You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met We don’t see much of Sally over here Oh, I’ve known him off and on for years He’s never mentioned you before Oh, that didn’t come out right at all And now I feel this small That seem to be it Don’t get me wrong But how are you going to get back home Oh I’d be willing to walk that way There’s something I’ve just got to say I could walk a million miles today You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met Kept bursting out with laughter all the way home I had to tell somebody, and you happened to phone I can’t think of anything else, no matter how I try But you know, I can’t even remember the colour of her eyes And that’s right You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met Well, at least not yet. It transported me back to the days of teenage parties, where you would desperately being trying to get together with a certain someone, and the excitement that came from kissing someone for the first time. The Wedding Present capture the naivety and breathlessness of those times so well, the lyrics evoking the awkwardness and the crushing reality (for me at least) of disappointment. Last night it transported me back to a teenage moment. I'd had a crush on this girl for quite sometime. She wasn't one of the most popular girls, she was quiet and unobtrusive. I always found her great to talk to, and she had one of those magical smiles that lit up a room. Never being over confident when it came to girls my crush stayed hidden. Such was my lack of confidence that I never assumed girls found me in the least bit attractive. Most of my girlfriends were thanks to my mates telling me "You do realise that X fancies you?" Anyhow one night after a large group of us had been out to a party and we were getting a coach back. The coach was packed and there weren't really enough seats for everyone. So who comes over and asks if they can sit on my knee? Yes, the girl I had a major crush on. That was a journey that seemed to answer all my prayers. The girl of my dreams, sat on my knee, slightly drunk and we got on like a house on fire. I'd love to be able to say that we kissed all the way home and that we had a magical time together. However being a fool comes more easily to me, and I never even made a move to kiss her. She must have been pretty tolerant and understanding because I still kept in touch with her by letter for my first year away at college. Then her parents moved, we both moved student residences and we lost touch. In the cold light of day I can see what a stupid fool I was. Hindsight is a wonderful thing when you can change things, but a cruel companion when you can't. I don't doubt that we would never have lasted, but I would have loved to have enjoyed it while it did. Right Blogger, I hope this is worthy enough!

Hmmm is Blogger trying to tell me something?

2006-06-22T16:09:00.000+01:00

So just to totally vindicate this whole new approach to Wordpress and to emphasise just how unreliable Blogger is, the post I wrote earlier vanished just as I was about to press publish. Ah well, perhaps Blogger is now stealthily detecting crap posts and preventing them from being posted? Well it'll take more than that to get this html-phobe to do anything drastic. Is that the best you've got? Bring it on! (Now hoping that I really haven't tempted fate)

A Hatrick of posts

2006-06-21T12:45:00.000+01:00

for one day, but then due to illness and general work drudgery I've not posted for too long. A quick scan around my favourite world of blogs reveals a new trend towards Wordpress. It all looks lovely over there, and I'm totally with everyone regarding Blogger being a pain. It's taken me long enough to get to grips with putting links in my sidebar (with thanks due to fluff and Lily for teaching me that). The prospect of trying to move all this crap I've accumulated over the last year fills me with more dread than a house move. At least with a house move I know what I'm packing, where I've put it and where it needs to go in the new home. So I think I shall be labouring on with Blogger - in one sense it develops my patience, which is essential with three small children running around at home! So my next task is to update all my links, which I think I am able to do relatively trouble free now..... Although look what happened last time I assumed things were going to be ok (see previous posts), Eeeek!

Butterfly ABC

2006-06-21T12:41:00.000+01:00

Kjell Sandved photographs letters and numbers found naturally on the wings of butterflies:

I thought this was great, and I know at least Snav has an interest in butterflies.

I'm back, from Outer Space...

2006-06-21T12:39:00.000+01:00

Well, from what felt like the brink of oblivion actually. I spoke far too soon last week – I didn’t manage to avoid the bug after all. If you are eating, or even thinking of eating, stop reading now. Father’s Day began nicely enough, with breakfast in bed and a small gift from the children. (Although as an aside I have noted that there was no card made at school, despite Mrs Zilla getting one for Mother’s Day. Probably due to the fact that many kids don’t live with their dad anymore, but I still feel left out!) Then began the uncomfortable sensations in the depths of my stomach. You know the ones – you feel queasy, but not enough to actually be sick. This built steadily throughout the morning, but still no desire to retch. Lunchtime came and went with no desire to eat, and by mid-afternoon I’d had enough and decided to see if the situation could be resolved. On my next visit to the bathroom I just imagined being sick and that seemed to do the trick. Cue some time spent talking on the big white telephone, and an instant upturn in my state of feeling unwell. Until the aching started – it felt like I had flu, that sort of ache (and I mean proper flu, not the namby pamby man flu!). Coupled with a raging temperature I was starting to regret the ejection of stomach contents. I’d felt queasy before, now I felt as though red hot needles were being inserted into all my joints. Obviously my feeling unwell, especially on Father’s Day solicited lots of concern and sympathy from Mrs Zilla. Or so I expected. No – she was quite willing to swan off to her concert, on Father’s Day, leaving me to feed, bath and get ready for bed all three kids. She left at 3pm, I had managed to get everything done and crawl into my bed of despair by 7.30pm. To add insult to injury Mrs Zilla returned home at 1.00am, there had been trouble getting out of the concert car park (try not parking right next to the venue next time darling), and promptly woke me up to tell me how great the concert had been. This was a concert by some has been ex-boy band, who I detested at the time they were around in the mid 90s, and my love for them has not increased since. Then she had the nerve to tell me that I had made the bed too warm! Excuse me for having a fever! It’s not often that I question why I am married with children, but that was certainly the case right then. So I look forward to next year’s Father’s Day with bated breath…

A week best forgotten

2006-06-16T13:14:00.000+01:00

I've had such a crappy week. Work has been relentless, too many deadlines, too many problems. At home the bug mentioned previously has gone through the other household members (with the exception of me) So a lot of my spare time has been spent cleaning up bodily fluids and tending to family members' needs. I am grateful that it's Friday, but already next week is looking gloomy too. Hopefully my worst fears won't be realised, and this will be a place of calm and joy next week - that's if anyone can drag themselves here to find out. I've not even caught up with my favourite blogs for the last day or two - so I'm hoping you guys have got something to raise my flagging spirits......

The best laid plans

2006-06-13T12:57:00.000+01:00

I had good intentions today to do the long post about the days out enjoying the good weather, but I've forgotten to bring the camera with the pictures on. So I'll write random crap about something else. Our national obsession with all things weather related continues in rivalry to the wall to wall world cup coverage. Even I, as a football fan, am finding 3 live games a day a little too much. The weather is continuing to be hot and humid, and the newspapers rejoice in telling us that the weather here is warmer than Los Angeles and other far flung places. What they seem to forget is that we are unable to cope with the extremes of weather conditions. Too warm and we don't cope due to lack of airconditioning, (our office is meant to have it, but it never works) too much rain and we suffer flooding. Snow and the roads are blocked, if not by snow, then by accidents caused by drivers unable to drive in the conditions. On a personal level I find generally that I adapt fairly well to whatever conditions are prevailing at the time. Rain doesn't really bother me, and heat is ok, as long as it's dry heat. I really don't like the hot, sticky conditions that we currently have - you can't do anything without feeling uncomfortable. So it seems like a good excuse to stay indoors and watch the world cup. But for once I am finding it hard to actually get into the tournament. In previous years I've watched almost every game, to the detriment of my college degree - bad timimg to have a world cup on when you should be revising for your finals, especially coupled to easy access to cheap alcohol at the student bars! I'm also finding it fairly incredible that the nation has become draped in flags of St George, almost from coast to coast. The numbers of cars flying flags is beyond belief :

My personal best is 6 seen on one car.

I do find it more than slightly ironic that people wish to symbolise their patriotism by flying an English flag on what is inevitably (since the ultimate destruction of our car industry) a foreign car!

Although it does make quite a refreshing change to see people actually backing our nation, instead of the usual grumbling, apologetic approach we take to these things.

In another football related finding, I came across this - the wee goal:

The football dangles on a thread, with the intention that the man using the urinal focuses his, ahem, stream, on it to "score" goals. The idea is that there will be a lot less mess, which seems to me to be a winning idea.

Apparently a similar approach was tried in Schipol airport just outside Amsterdam. They embossed their urinals with a "fly", giving men something to aim at, and their cleaning costs reduced by 80%.

More information and the chance to buy one of these little gems can be found at :

http://www.wee-goal.com/

Pass the bucket

2006-06-12T13:29:00.000+01:00

I'm up to my ears work wise at the moment, so no long post or pictures from last week (sorry Tich, knowing how much you were looking forward to them!) I'm actually glad to be out of the house, and away from the vomitting bug which seems to have a stranglehold on our eldest. On Saturday night he appeared in our bedroom at around 2.30 to announce that he felt ill. He then promptly threw up all over our bed. Mrs Zilla took the brunt of it, but it was quite projectile in nature, so a large proportion of the bed received a covering. Then he turned and managed to cover the entire carpet leading to the doorway. At this point I managed to guide him into the bathroom to prevent further damage, or so I thought. Having positioned him over the toilet bowl I returned to the fray in the bedroom. Whipping the covers off the bed I headed to the washing machine, thankfully as it was a very warm night it was just the sheet that was obliterated by vomit. On my way back I checked on Godzooky 1, who had managed to stand up in the meantime and cover the area surrounding the bowl with vomit too! To be fair, some was resting on the edge of the bowl, although that was more by chance than good aiming on his part. It took till around 4.00am to sort out the damage and get him back into bed. By which point I was wide awake and unable to get back to sleep. We endeavoured to make him rest yesterday, but he insisted that he was fine by the afternoon and he joined the family in the living room. Against my advice Mrs Zilla gave him some milk that he had requested. Once more my judgement call was proved correct when he again suddenly announced he was going to be sick and covered another carpet with his emissions. Milk regurgitated, nice. At least today (so far) Mrs Zilla hasn't reported a repeat performance. Isn't it great being a parent?

Back to life

2006-06-09T13:03:00.000+01:00

It's a strange one today - in some ways I'm glad to be back at work: keeping the piles of stuff on my desk to a minimum, enabling myself to hit deadlines etc etc But I have really enjoyed my time off - we've all had a great time, although I'm absolutely shattered from running round with the Godzookies everywhere. Now I just need to catch up on everyone else's blogs, which will probably take me about another week. More details on the fun we've had and possibly some pictures. Watch this space....

Tune In, Turn On, Drop Out

2006-06-02T15:45:00.000+01:00

Well folks, this will be my last post for a week. I've actually got a whole 4 days off work. I need this break, I'm feeling very burnt out, dealing with stroppy staff, ever changing deadlines, tiredness and general crap. So a nice break in the Lake District, staying chez Grandma Zilla should suitably recharge the batteries. I'll endeavour to actually take some pictures and maybe even post some on here. I think the break from blogging may also do me some good, and I hope to have lots to catch up on from my favourite blogs. So be good guys, and if you can't be good, have fun!

Need something to fill your time?

2006-06-01T12:42:00.000+01:00

Les Stewart of Queensland, Australia began typing the numbers from one to a million — in words — in 1982. It took him 16 years, seven typewriters, 1000 ink ribbons, and 19,990 sheets of paper to finish. And he did it all with one finger. From Recordholders.org:

When asked why he has undertaken this time consuming and repetitious task, Les says that he has little else to do now that he has been classed as an invalid, and can no longer work.

Besides that, Les enjoys typing and used to be a police typing instructor before his sickness which meant his withdrawal from the force.

Typing an average three pages a day with one finger since April 1982, Les said his secret was to type for 20 minutes on the hour, every hour.

Les is no newcomer to breaking records: Some years ago he broke the Australian Record of treading water, and then he went on to swim continuously for 30 hours, establishing another Australian record.

Hmmm, an ex-police typing instructor who types with one finger? I'm starting to see why police reports take so long to be filed!

Still it's nice to see someone have a different hobby....

What the world really needs

2006-05-31T12:58:00.000+01:00

I'm cribbing this shamelessly from a newspaper, but it's so shockingly bad that I feel it deserves highlighting. Patently Silly This site lists all manner of weird and wonderful inventions that people have applied to patent. That people think there is a need for some of these things makes me question whether we really are at the peak of civilisation. If we are, then the only way now appears to be downwards! Cordless jump rope? Why not just pretend to be skipping? Or would that just look silly?

A Review

2006-05-31T12:50:00.000+01:00

I really wasn't in a blogging place yesterday, despite, or perhaps because of, the long bank holiday weekend. I'm still not sure whether my mojo is fully functioning, but I guess it's a case of publish and be damned. So a quick recap - we went to see the Chuckle Brothers on Saturday and took on eof our friends son's with us - they've had a recent addition to the family, and we know how a little bit of eace and quiet is appreciated. So that was our good deed for the day. So here's my review of the play/panto: From the opening “pyrotechnics” and music, you know what this show is going to be about, it’s panto, pure and simply. The Doctor Who theme is tenuous to say the least. There is a TARDIS, to facilitate space travel, and there is a “Garlic”, that makes a brief appearance. The only other Doctor Who reference is the baddie : The Mister. The Doctor Huw What and Professor Mee Hoo names that the Chuckles have are designed with maximum mix up in mind. Overall the show is more tenuous than the current real Doctor Who series, excepting the psychic paper malarkey that David Tennant has perhaps. The presence of a gorilla in the TARDIS without any explanation or consequence only serves to heighten the sense of panto. The use of acrobats probably serves to save the Chuckle Brothers’ ageing legs and pad the show out considerably. If you go to see this, you’re going to get wet. If you’re in the front row you run the risk of getting VERY wet, or covered in “custard pie”. Overall a very funny show, my six year old loved it, and didn’t care about the lack of Doctor Who references or inconsistent plot. Still the brothers manage to save the earth, without the use of a sonic screwdriver. Life offers various lessons as you travel along it's many paths, and one I learnt on Saturday is that other people's children will always behave better than your own. I'm not sure if this is attributable to them being scared of you, they're better raised or whether your child feels an overwhelming compulsion to show off in front of their friends. Take your pick.

Culture Vulture

2006-05-26T13:00:00.000+01:00

I'm getting quite excited about an impending theatre visit tomorrow. Pre Godzookies, and even more pre Mrs Zilla, I used to frequent the theatre quite often. A mixture of modern and some classics, Trainspotting, Waiting for Godot, Hamlet etc etc. I think my last visit to the theatre to see a play must have been a good 4 years ago, doesn't time fly! That was to see The Woman in Black. A "very scary" adaptation of Susan Hill's novel. Pah, I've been more scared of Doctor Who. Which brings me to the performance we're going to see tomorrow afternoon:

For those who aren't familiar with The Chuckle Brothers, I'm not sure how to describe them. Their humour is based mainly on slapstick and really bad puns.

They've been around for a good 20 years doing the same sort of stuff, and when I was younger I detested them.

Since having kids, and watching them again I have rediscovered their worth. They really manage to make kids (and me and Mrs Zilla) laugh.

We went to one of those classic British institutions, a pantomime, that they were in last year - Dick Whittington. With the obligatory faded soap star ( I think she was from Hollyoaks) and the usual Dame figure.

It was excellent and inspired us to see Doctor What when we saw it advertised.

Godzooky 1 is particularly excited as it is combining The Chuckle Brothers with Doctor Who, a new favourite of his.

A review will follow....

and they say standards are dropping?

2006-05-25T12:37:00.000+01:00

Now I don't profess to have been a great chemistry student, otherwise I'd be running my own crystal meth lab, but these answers suggest the examinee writing them may already have their own lab....

Right now they're probably studying medicine at college somewhere...

A change from the usual

2006-05-24T12:47:00.000+01:00

This morning I was preparing my son's packed lunch, as usual, when he came through to the kitchen. This is not unusual, and is normally followed by a request for some wholly inappropriate food item to be put in his lunch box. Cola is a regular request, but he's not allowed that very often - he gets a bit too hyper! He goes through the usual "buttering up" process: "Daddy, you make the best lunches ever!" "Thanks, son, I'm glad you like them" I reply, waiting. "Dad..." "Yes?" "Do you think I could have a packet of ready salted crisps in my lunch today?" "Of course, but don't you want a different flavour?" "No, it's got to be plain flavour." "OK, but why plain?" "Cos Kemal can only eat plain ones, other ones make him ill." It turns out that his friend Kemal is dairy intolerant, and plain crisps are one of the few types without milk powder in them. So Godzooky 1 wanted a pack so he could share them with his friend. Sometimes I think that we are doing the right thing with our children.

Quiz/Meme/Survey*

2006-05-24T12:33:00.000+01:00

* I'm not sure what this is, delete as you feel applies. With thanks to Snav, where I came across this, painless to do, but made me think a bit: 1)Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4. was a massive complex of huts and office blocks spread over several acres 2) Stretch your left arm out as far as you can and see what you touch. A pile of papers requiring my attention, and almost a work colleague who now looks quite worried. 3) What is the last thing you watched on TV? Big Brother 4) Without looking, guess what time it is. 12.10 5) Now look at the clock. What is the actual time? 12.13 – I know it’s around lunchtime, because some colleagues have just disappeared! 6) With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? A printer, office hubbub and a phone ringing. 7) When did you last step outside? What were you doing? This morning, to get to work, where I am now! 8) Before you started this survey, what did you look at? Snav's World 9) What are you wearing? Office garb, shirt, tie etc. Nothing exciting I'm afraid. 10) Did you dream last night? No – too tired I think. Although I can never remember all my dreams anyway. 11) When did you last laugh? About 10 minutes ago, as a colleague lied badly on the telephone 12) What is on the walls of the room you are in? Health and Safety notices, “Turn It Off!” stickers, a clock (which seems to run real slow), oh and a World Cup Wallchart. 13) Seen anything weird lately? A lady in our office refusing a cake, that surprised a lot of us! 14) What do you think of this quiz? I know the answers to the questions, so it’s kind of an easy quiz. 15) What is the last film you saw? All the way through? I watched Layer Cake again the other night. 16) If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy? A house closer to my son’s school. A round the world airline ticket, to show my children the wonders of the world. 17) Tell us something about you that we don't know. I passed my driving test first time, without any “proper” lessons, my dad taught me. 18) If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? Enable everyone to see another person’s perspective 19) Do you like to dance? Yes, but tend to need alcohol to make me feel comfortable doing it. 20) George Bush The lunatics have taken over the asylum. 21) Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her? Emily (we didn’t) 22) Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him? Robert (we didn’t, I’m seeing a pattern here!) 23) Would you ever consider living abroad? Yes. Later in life something I would definitely consider. 24) What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates? I’ve been waiting ages for you to show up, the party starts now everybody!

Being damp and partial invisibility

2006-05-23T12:48:00.000+01:00

I think I'm feeling more positive today, although I'm not certain of it. At least the rain held off until I reached the end of my road, then a torrential downpour, which ended as I reached the tram stop. At least being soaking wet gets you some room on the tram. The exclusion zone created by moist clothes is quite welcome. People are also far less likely to treat you as the invisible man, and will actually manoeuvre carefully around you rather than adopt the normal, trying to walk through you approach. I am starting to wonder whether I do actually possess some innate optical illusion which obscures me from people's view. It seems that despite my height and breadth people seem to think that they can actually walk through me. Invariably these are people distracted by mobile phones or just not looking where they are going. I always try and at least stop, if I can't move out of the collision path, to minimise the force of impact. Yet these people seem genuinely surprised that they should encounter another thing in their path, even though they don't look where they're going. I thought I was quite a large and easily identifiable mass, but clearly I am in possession of some Klingon type cloaking device, which seems to deploy at random moments, but especially on busy pavements. Anyway, before this descends into another rant or gloominess, here's something that made me smile: After every flight, Qantas pilots fill out a form called a "gripesheet," which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems, document their repairs on the form, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight. Never let it be said that ground crews lack a sense of humour. Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by Qantas' pilots marked with a P) and the solutions recorded (marked with an S) by maintenance engineers. By the way, Qantas is the only major airline that has never, ever, had an accident. P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement. S: Almost replaced left inside main tire. P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough. S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft. P: Something loose in cockpit. S: Something tightened in cockpit. P: Dead bugs on windshield. S: Live bugs on back-order. P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent. S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground. P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear. S: Evidence removed. P: DME volume unbelievably loud. S: DME volume set to more believable level. P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick. S: That's what friction locks are for. P: IFF inoperative in OFF mode. S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode. P: Suspected crack in windshield. S: Suspect you're right. P: Number 3 engine missing. S: Engine found on right wing after brief search. P: Aircraft handles funny. S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious. P: Target radar hums. S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics. P: Mouse in cockpit. S: Cat installed. And the best one for last.................. P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer. S: Took hammer away from midget

The Glums

2006-05-22T12:52:00.000+01:00

A horrible, wet, dreary weekend comes to an end, and yet still more rain falls. This is supposed to be late May, but feels more like March or April. To add to the gloom, our auditors are back, asking more questions, taking up more time and basically annoying the hell out of me. One small ray of joy was the way Godzooky 1 spent yesterday. He resolved to tidy his room and sort out things that he was willing to throw/give away. To his credit he came up with 3 large boxes of toys to go to the charity shop, and 2 large rubbish sacks full of bits and pieces that were no use to anyone. The awful wet day meant that there was no large queue at the dump, so the whole task was pain free. Grandma Zilla doesn't seem very well at the moment. She's awaiting test results, but is on what seems like a constant diet of antibiotics to try and keep her chest clear. She sounds very down, even though she's just returned from a sunshine break in Spain. I wanted to go and see her, thinking that the children might brighten her mood, but she put us off, citing the fact that she may have a virus, and doesn't want to pass it on to us as well. Ah, well, half term is only a couple of weeks away, and we can make a longer visit then. Hopefully by then she'll have her test results, will be getting the right treatment, and will be feeling brighter generally. This feels like a dull and glum post, which reflects pretty well what is outside at the moment, but I don't want to end on that note, so here's something I found that might amuse for a while: Anagram Generator Enter whatever random phrase you like, and it will reassemble it into more sense or gibberish: 'Godzilla Blogs Daily' anagrams to

'Lazy, glib dildo gaols'

'Tich rocks the world'

anagrams to

'Lord! Shock twitcher.'

'Lily needs creamer constantly'

anagrams to

'Rottenly smellier ascendancy.'

'Fluff had a dastardly ex'

anagrams to

'Half sexy, daft fraud lad.' 'Snav dances beautifully'

anagrams to

'Banefully avid nutcases.'

'Truth and virtue'

anagrams to

'Avid hurt nutter.'

'Sessy needs a break'

anagrams to

'Bee's knees as yards.'

Birthday Recap

2006-05-19T11:46:00.000+01:00

Once the Godzookies were safely tucked up in bed on the night before Godzooky 2’s birthday we started blowing up balloons, preparing streamers and banners to decorate our living room. She’s a sucker for balloons, especially the helium type that float off. So one of those had pride of place on her seat. We wanted it to be ready for her first thing in the morning, so that the day started off as we meant for it to go on.

Once the children were up and had breakfasted we had some time to open a couple of presents that her siblings had “bought” for her. Some colouring supplies, a Magnadoodle and a jigsaw. We dropped Godzooky 1 off at school and then headed off to a local play centre We’d been previously with Godzooky 1 but it was far too busy and frantic for someone as small as her, she was confined to the under 3s section.

This time it was very quiet, obviously as it was during school time, and there were only a couple of other children there. This gave us free range on the equipment, and it was an absolute bargain, only £3.20 for 90 minutes for all of us (babes in arms go free, and parents don’t pay either!)

She was a bit unsure about some of the high parts at first, with only netting below her. But once she found her feet she was away, and I had trouble keeping up with her. She could twist and turn round the narrow gaps with ease, whereas my frame was holding me back.

Unfortunately for me my jeans were not as good as her trousers on the slide – I was getting too much friction, while she zipped away down the 10m slide.

I even managed at one point to get Godzooky 3 up to the slide and carried him down on it, although he had no idea about what was going on!

By the end of the 90 minutes I was seriously flagging from all the scrambling, twisting and turning, and I think she was too, as there weren’t too many complaints when we said we had to leave. After lunch she went for her nap more than willingly, and I was starting to think she’s turned into a teenager when we tried to get her up, she was that grouchy! Off to her Grandma’s next, for more presents and birthday treats.

Then back to school, to pick up Godzooky 2. Back home for more presents, lots of clothes, dolls and games. She’s particularly taken with a doll you can feed and then wind, just like she sees done for her baby brother. A trip to Pizza Hut for a birthday meal was next on the agenda, which went down well with Godzooky 1 too!

Then home for cake, although she was a little uncertain about the candles on the cake, probably due to our mantra about fires being dangerous!

After more playing and the last few presents it was bed time, and a sound sleep was had by all. It was a great day and hopefully special for her. Neither me or Mrs Zilla have really strong birthday memories, so we have resolved to try and make them exceptional days for our children, so that they will have good memories.

2006-05-18T12:58:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a lovely day, and I will post more about it when I have a proper amount of time, pictures to show etc etc. Suffice to say that a great day was had by all. It means that I'm somewhat behind in my work, but days like that are rare and worth the extra pressure I've put myself under. We had an interesting meeting here today about a new Enterprise computing system to combine all aspects of our business, streamlining our work and making us all super efficient. I have my doubts that this will work in reality, but nothing ventured etc. This meeting fits in nicely with a delightful little quiz I was shown. Can you tell the difference between IT people and serial killers? Not that I would wish to stereotype people! I didn't score that highly, which probably reflects my knowledge of IT and serial killers! I still not sure that I know what to look out for to tell the difference!

Recruitment

2006-05-16T13:05:00.000+01:00

is never easy, but it is made all the trickier by 3 out of 6 candidates not even turning up for the interviews! At least our temp should have little competition in securing the post, so everyone's a winner. Plus I've got tomorrow off, to spend the whole day with my daughter on her second birthday. I'm really looking forward to having a great day with her, and making it a special one for her.

Oh yes

2006-05-15T15:39:00.000+01:00

I almost forgot. Yesterday I was on my way to the tram, in my own little world, when a small figure woke me from my catatonic state. An old lady, stooped and fragile looking, was beckoning towards me across the road. I looked around, as you do, to make sure that there was no relative, or friend she was calling to, but there was nobody else around. I'm not one for ignoring people, so I crossed the road, and approached her house, where she was stood in the door. As I walked up, she asked most politely if I would help her with a problem. I like to think I'm a helpful sort of bloke, but I did have a secret dread that there was going to be something unpleasant about this request. She asked me to follow her into her house, and it was clear that she was living in the one room downstairs. She walked with that slow, unsteady gait, that made it clear she was not well. I followed her into the room and asked her what I could do to help. She was concerned that her clocks were wrong, and she had to know what the correct time was, she said. She thought that her home help hadn't altered then for the recent change for Summer time. I checked the clock on her wall and it was running about 4 minutes fast. I told her this, and she asked me if I would mind getting it down and altering it for her. I was more than happy to oblige, and whilst I was altering it she turned up the heat on her gas fire, even though the room was already sweltering. She thanked me most profusely and asked me to make sure the front door was locked on my way out. I left feeling good about myself - a few minutes out of my day had reassured an old lady that she knew what the correct time was, and that was something she had felt upset enough about to beckon a complete stranger into her house. I hope she doesn't make a habit of it though, not everyone is well meaning in this day and age.

Another Year Older

2006-05-15T14:57:00.000+01:00

but definitely not wiser. Another manic day at the office and things that should go smoothly crumble in front of my eyes. Still, tomorrow I get to recruit a permanent member of staff to fill a vacancy manned by temps since 2002. That's what I call progress. Anyway my birthday was better than expected. I got presents of a far better calibre than I have for many a year. Even the clothing that was purchased for me was reasonable and something that I was willing to wear out of the house. I don't mean for that to sound churlish and ungrateful. I never specifically ask for anything, so my presents are at people's whims or reflect how they see me. I mentioned clothing in particular, as one year, one of my brothers in law bought me a short sleeved, bright lime green shirt. Fine, not my taste, but suitable for decorating in, possibly. Until I noticed what size he had purchased. I'm 6' 1" and with a 44" chest, yet he thought I was a "Medium"! I can't even say at least the thought was there, because I really don't know what was going through his head when he bought the item! I had a lovely meal out in an Indian restaurant we've been wanting to try for ages. Very swish and pricey, but the food was excellent and the service just how I like it, efficient but discreet. We realised that it was our first time out alone together since the arrival of Godzooky 3. The first time in 4 months! Still, now that he's sleeping through (the power of sleep training) perhaps we'll get more offers of babysitting? So now I'm endeavouring to get through the piles of work on my desk to get Wednesday off, when Godzooky 2 will be 2.

Birthdays

2006-05-12T12:41:00.000+01:00

So, this weekend it's my birthday, and everyone seems to be hung up on the age I am. This isn't the big 4-0 or anything, but it does draw me ever closer to that landmark. I've never been bothered about my age, to me it's just a number, and I never really think about it. It only really hits me when I fill in any forms with those tick boxes, you know the ones with the age ranges: 18-25, 26-35 etc etc When I move from one box to another it does make me stop and think for a moment, but then normality soon returns. Mrs Zilla had tremendous anxiety when she turned 30 last year, so in 9 years time I dread to think how she'll cope. In my head I'm still only 23 or 24, and sometimes I act like it. Yet last night I realised that I have matured to some degree - having the children has forced me to act differently sometimes. I was talking to my eldest about the way he should deal with problems at school and found myself sounding a bit like my dad, but with a bit more realism and understanding than he showed. So thanks dad, you obviously gave me a pretty good grounding, but I think I've refined you approach. I also noticed last night that having got a sensible, family friendly car I am experiencing a lot less road rage from other motorists and my urge to speed around has almost vanished. I've also noticed that no ladies are interested in any man driving the car I do. You might as well have FAMILY MAN TAKE NO INTEREST painted along the sides. But then should I be expecting female interest at my age? My philandering brother in law has been through a number of ladies in the last year, figuratively and probably literally. He's one year younger than me, and I have noticed (IMO) that the standard he's attracting seems to be slipping. Someone told me a joke a while back: What's the similarity between men over 30 and car park spaces? All the good ones are taken, but there's plenty of disabled ones left. There may be some truth in that. When I think of my friends that are single, they all seem to have issues of one type or another, cause and effect.

The usual

2006-05-11T13:27:00.000+01:00

Well my football team returned to form last night, a heavy defeat in the UEFA Cup final. I'm used to their erratic form, but my 6 year old son went to bed in tears. He'll soon get used to the taste of defeat. This morning he's back to his usual self. I unfortunatley then spent the rest of the evening imbibing far too much alcohol. I have a fuzzy head and churning stomach, and I have never had a hangover in my life before. Is this another sign of ageing? So you get the benefit of wisdom and hindsight, but suffer more physically? Doesn't seem fair. Serves me right for not reading the small print I guess. My thoughts and actions are pretty disjointed today - is this common with hangovers? Or yet another sign that alzheimers is just around the corner for me? Right enough of my rambling rubbish I'm off to try and satiate my post alcohol hunger

Skip this - normal service may be resumed tomorrow

2006-05-10T13:02:00.000+01:00

Michael Walker Wednesday May 10, 2006 The Guardian Steve McClaren joked last Saturday that you could write a book about Middlesbrough's season but, for those steeped in Teesside, 2005-06 merits only a chapter. Boro's chairman Steve Gibson, for example, said 2006 has been "extraordinary" in its own way but it is merely the latest twist in a personal, financial association with the club that goes back to 1986. Spectacular comebacks have marked the run to the Uefa Cup final in Eindhoven tonight but they are nothing compared with the kiss of life Gibson and four others administered to Middlesbrough that year. With the company liquidated, the Ayresome Park gates locked, players and coaches sacked in the summer, only a rescue package overseen by the then 28-year-old Gibson saw Middlesbrough survive as a Football League club. But it was so close-run that Boro, refused access to Ayresome Park by the receivers, had to play the opening game of the 1986-87 season at Hartlepool's Victoria Park. The trouble was that Hartlepool were at home that day, too, so Boro kicked off against Port Vale at 6.30pm in front of 3,456. Archie Stephens scored twice in a 2-2 draw and Middlesbrough were reborn. Middlesbrough Association Football Club became MFC (1986) and that is how they have remained. In 2006 they are unrecognisable and Gibson sat in an office in the palatial training ground near Darlington and surveyed the ride. "It's fresh in the mind, but then it isn't," he said. "In some ways it feels like a long, long time ago but of course significant events do stick. It's when you see, like in recent weeks, old photographs of 20 years ago and people on it are unfortunately deceased. You think 'Bloody hell, I remember Joe, I remember this and remember that' and it kind of brings back the atmosphere of the day. "It was a strange period in that, for me, I was quite young and was asked to get involved. Then I was up to my neck in it. It was so intense, you never knew how bad the situation was. Every time you picked up a stone, something crawled out. It was horrendous. I thought originally that the debt - and this was a long time ago - was £1.3m. To put it into context, the turnover of the club was about £200,000. Then the £1.3m became £1.5m and then £1.7m, £1.8m, £2m and then £2.1m. "And then the old directors said that the club owes them 'this amount'. The biggest amount of money that went out was to the old directors. You couldn't lose sight of the fact that your role was to save the club, because in any other walk of life you would have picked up an axe and chopped people's heads off. You were saving the club to give all this money to these individuals who had already raped the club and killed the club. I'm quite open about it, I'll give you names, it's whether you'll print them." Lawyers intervene at such moments and Gibson should know. As he recalled, that match at Hartlepool was fraught with legal arguments with the Football League. "If we hadn't gone ahead with the game, we were out. Hartlepool played first and we were having all kinds of problems with the Football League, they were useless. We'd applied to the Gola League. We were going to rebuild it that way. It was an early-evening kick-off and about 100,000 people now tell me they were there. I remember Archie Stephens scoring two cracking goals, going two up and eventually drawing 2-2. We're planning a 20th anniversary with everyone involved." By the next home game, against Bury - Boro were in the old Third Division - they were back at Ayresome. But Gibson was thinking about moving. Ten years later the Riverside was erected and to mark its 10th season the old gates from Ayresome were installed outside. Famously in '86 they were photographed padlocked with the manager Bruce Rioch and his unemployed players standing outside. Now they act as a reminder of where Middlesbrough have come from, though Gibson is unsentimental about them. "I would have sold them for scrap," he said. "It was the March [1986] when the club couldn't survive. But a white knight appeared. He was a genuine guy called Alf Duffield and Alf came in on the back of a very successful company. Unfortunately it was a bubble. I was thinking: 'Phew, how lucky is this? I'm going to disappear into the background.' But it didn't happen. I think he was here for six months. His business went and the club didn't have a white knight any longer. It had this huge debt. "What I had to ensure was that the club fulfilled its fixtures, it was how I could get into a position of running the club without interference from the shareholders. You had third-generation shareholders, the great-grandchildren of the original shareholders dating back to 1876 and some of these guys were on the board. You would go to a board meeting and they would be talking about what they were having for lunch, they wouldn't be talking about the debt, because Middlesbrough FC had always just trundled on. "I remember going in and saying to sort this club out there's got to be clear lines of authorisation and the first thing I want is full executive power to run the club. They went 'rhubarb, rhubarb', the cigars came out. Eventually they gave it to me and they said: 'What are you going to do now?' I said: 'None of your business, you're all sacked.' It was up and down, all kinds of things went on, some of it very unpleasant, but at the end the club was saved." Not a man to mess around, Gibson, Middlesbrough-born and bred, has fulfilled a role of saviour-strategist-benefactor ever since, as well as chairman. Now he presides over arguably the best academy in the country, a team in a European final and, at least for another 24 hours, a manager bound for England. Gibson and McClaren have not always seen eye to eye but, when McClaren needed Gibson most, in January and February, the chairman delivered. "I felt at that time, when you took away the emotion, there was definitely a relegation threat. There were too many people who thought we'd be all right and I was guilty of the same complacency. The Villa game really woke us up as a club. We suddenly realised that this is a crisis. "At times like that you need people to be up front and we had some individuals, the manager, the skipper Gareth Southgate, right through the club, who were. I saw no chink in Steve's belief that he could get us out of this." Gibson is in a position to judge. Getting out of it has been the story of Middlesbrough's run to the Uefa Cup final, but it pales beside the original salvage operation performed by Steve Gibson 20 years ago.

Now where did it go?

2006-05-09T13:10:00.000+01:00

I was on my way to work this morning when I know I had a good idea to blog about, but now I find myself here, it's gone completely from my mind. Is this one of the symptoms of getting old? Thinking you have a good idea and then completely forgetting it? Perhaps my age is playing on my mind more subconciously because it's my birthday soon, and then 3 days after Godzooky 2 will turn 2. That was a scary birthday two years ago - Mrs Zilla started having contractions at 2.30am, so no lie in that day for me. Then around 6am her waters went, or so we thought. A quick trip to the hospital,after some breakfast, I wasn't getting caught out like the first time (40 hours in labour with no sustenance), but we were sent home again because she was barely dilated and it was only the hind waters that had gone. So my birthday was spent trying to speed up the birth process, but all to no avail. To me, these things happen at their own pace and you just get on with it. I'm not a big fan of birthdays particularly, but I'm glad she's got a different day to mine to celebrate, so it's her special day. Mrs Zilla shares the same birthday as her mother, which makes it easy to remember, but also means that there are certain expectations raised, in terms of where it's spent and what you have to think about. I'm still not sure what to buy Godzooky 2 for a present, so any suggestions will be gratefully received!

A new week

2006-05-08T12:54:00.000+01:00

I'm hoping that this will bring an upturn in fortunes. The weekend saw a mixed bag of events. Friday saw me get the action promised, although Mrs Zilla later descended into an intoxicated haze, from alcohol, not my lurve skills, unfortunately. This was a bad move on her part given that she had to be out early Saturday for a hairdressing appointment. So I was left to entertain the three Godzookies, and I made an unwise decision to go to the park. It seemed like a good idea initially, the squirrels were welcoming as we fed them. I managed to juggle all three kids in terms of turns on the slides and swings. The beautiful weather brought it's own fly to put in the ointment though - Godzooky 1 decided to acquire hayfever for the day. He also decided to ignore my advice that rubbing his eyes would make it worse, and by the time I'd got him home he looked like he'd gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson. Catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror caused tears, which only exacerbated the problem. By the time I could administer Piriton to ease the syptoms his eyes were almost slits. Cue Mrs Zilla's return from the hairdressers and her insistence that he go to bed and rest his eyes, which served to cause more tears. Aaaaaaaaarrrrggghhh! At least it stopped him telling "jokes" - here's a sample:- What do you call a cow jumping over the moon? A moon cow! Scarily that was one of the better efforts. So bad were his symptoms that he didn't want to go to a schoolmate's birthday party, the acid test of any child's illness! Yesterday saw a wetter, colder day, and he was back on form. Unfortunately the jokes hadn't seen a similar improvement.

Love Life Secrets

2006-05-08T12:51:00.000+01:00

Ok, so here are my deepest, darkest secrets, sshhhh, tell no-one:

Your Love Life Secrets Are

Looking back on your life, you will have a few true loves. Although you may have been hurt before, you tend to bring very little scars into new relationships. You prefer a quirky, unique person to be your lover. You're easy going about who you're with, as long as they love you back. In fights, you speak your mind and don't hold back. You know you're right, and you can get quite angry about it. Break-ups can be painful for you, but you never show it. You hold your head high.

Your Love Life Secrets, Revealed

!TIHS

2006-05-05T14:32:00.000+01:00

Ok, I've not strictly turned things right around, but there is some light at the end of the tunnel, although I'm hoping that it's not someone with a torch bringing more crap my way. I've got my management accounts (yes, yawn) out by the deadline, just. The staff issues are starting to be dealt with, although it's going to be a long, long process. We've got a shortlist for the vacant position (sorry ,Tich you just missed out, the pretty HR girl wouldn't accede to my request and I'm trying to keep her sweet!) It's Friday afternoon and the sun is shining, so I should get a pleasant evening in the garden playng with the kids, with a nice glass of wine to unwind with. I'm pretty lucky that I have the ability to leave my work issues at work, and I don't tend to drag my problems home with me. Last night I just lay on the floor with Godzooky 3, after the others had been despatched to bed, talking to him (although his only word is "igloo", I'm not counting the raspberries he blows!) and playing round and round the garden, making him giggle. Moments like that are so precious and special. Another plus is that I'm on a promise tonight, not quite in the fluff "walking like John Wayne" category, but it's action. I hope everyone else's week finishes on a high, and you all have a great weekend.

SHIT!

2006-05-04T12:20:00.000+01:00

that sums it up

Busy Busy Busy

2006-05-03T14:34:00.000+01:00

Too many things to sort out today, so this is all I've got, but it feels pretty apt today

How Hard Can it be?

2006-05-02T12:32:00.000+01:00

No, not that, although for a man of my age, I can be quite proud... No, what I really meant is how hard can it be to recruit a suitable member of staff? Within my team we've had a position which has been filled by temps since 2003. This was since the last restructure when it was deemed unnecessary for us to have this post, and the person filling it was moved to a different section. From then on we've had a succession of temps filling the role, which of course doesn't really exist, but now does again under the latest restructure. Clear as mud right? Anyhoo - the quality of temps has covered all parts of the scale, from excellent to downright awful. I sometimes wondered if the agency were dragging passing ne'er do wells from the street and despatching them to us, they were that bad. So - we finally get to appoint someone to the post. The temp we currently have is excellent, punctual, accurate and a good laugh to boot. Unfortunately, being a public sector employer we cannot just appoint him to the post, but must go through the process of advertising and interviewing for the role. So over the weekend I've had the delight of reviewing the application forms and scoring them to short list for interview. Blimey there are some strange people out there. They don't meet the basic essential criteria, but have applied anyway. One person didn't even fill in the form, just stapled a copy of their CV to it! I'm not expecting to get people's life stories on the forms, but some seem willing to share their inner thoughts regardless. Others must think that putting almost nothing on the form will lend them an air of mystery and mean that we need to see them in person. Wrong again. Still sorting this out is a nice way to ease myself into the week after the Bank Holiday, and it means I can get the auditors to hassle somebody else for a few hours!