The making of beer dumps
Gawd, Friday's fun and games... went out with a mate from work, don't normally socialise with worky types on a matter of principle but it struck me that maybe I aught to get my head out of my arse and act like an ordinary human being for once. Nice night actually, a first time appearance in this blog for Big Gay Kenny (hello, super to see you), and we shouted Mags out for the evening as well as she's at home at the moment from her vocational travels and in need of beer. Not as much as us of course as she's a laydeee, but a good group. A nice night, except I made the mistake of smoking the last of my ginormous fat log cigars from a while back, and I think it may have peaked... left me feeling very spaced out for a while. Not nice at all. So I think I'll cut those out of my lifestyle for a while, if not forever. Healthy mixture of black Vodka (finished off that evil stuff), beer, Belgian fruit beer and red wine guaranteed a vile morning and opended windows in the bathroom.
And work was reasonably ok as well... Friday was new toys day. Always a good thing, free stuff. An overdue issue of personal tools, and the new warrant card wallets arrived. They're already universally despised, with cries of "rusty sherrif's badge" and "choccie box lid" ringing around the building for the new and shiney multicoloured metal badge on the wallet. We used to have a PROPER logo on our badges, not any more. Hey ho, everything changes and not always for the better. Not so critical of the tools selected - good shite -, the only thing I wasn't happy about was they've stopped issuing the big box of Snap On ratchet screwdrivers and bits we used to get, for cost reasons - in fairness they WERE bloody expensive - and because there should be one set in each of the go-busses. Of course there aren't always, but I've still got the ratchet I snaffled before I left Fxt, so if I can snaffle a new box of bits, then we're cooking with gas. Just to prove what a good egg our support office lass is, she arranged for me to get issued with the old style leather tool holster and belt for all my ill gotten gains, rather than the new sythnetic rubbish one that's issued... she understand that not only do us old types prefer this kind, but they wear well, and old kit like that inparts a certain credibility that folks of our level appreciate. That's knowing your guys!
On top of all the new shite, they've unveiled the new team structure that's been rumbling around for a while, naming the names so I'm now officially aware of my future, suprisingly I have one. Unfortunately, my team's puppy is being posted away from me, which is a shame. He's young, inexperienced, massively gung ho, and over keen. But things tend to happen while he's about, it's been a good balance. My instinct for getting out of trouble balanced his for getting into it, pretty happy medium. I'll miss him.
So this old internet thing... was talking to someone on line a day or so back, who's back in my home town. Nothing going on, you understand, just a conversation for a bored chappy away from home. But how queer is this? How small is this world? Turns out her ex husband is the brother of a lass I dated when I was 18, and he remembered my name? How damned small is this world?
And work was reasonably ok as well... Friday was new toys day. Always a good thing, free stuff. An overdue issue of personal tools, and the new warrant card wallets arrived. They're already universally despised, with cries of "rusty sherrif's badge" and "choccie box lid" ringing around the building for the new and shiney multicoloured metal badge on the wallet. We used to have a PROPER logo on our badges, not any more. Hey ho, everything changes and not always for the better. Not so critical of the tools selected - good shite -, the only thing I wasn't happy about was they've stopped issuing the big box of Snap On ratchet screwdrivers and bits we used to get, for cost reasons - in fairness they WERE bloody expensive - and because there should be one set in each of the go-busses. Of course there aren't always, but I've still got the ratchet I snaffled before I left Fxt, so if I can snaffle a new box of bits, then we're cooking with gas. Just to prove what a good egg our support office lass is, she arranged for me to get issued with the old style leather tool holster and belt for all my ill gotten gains, rather than the new sythnetic rubbish one that's issued... she understand that not only do us old types prefer this kind, but they wear well, and old kit like that inparts a certain credibility that folks of our level appreciate. That's knowing your guys!
On top of all the new shite, they've unveiled the new team structure that's been rumbling around for a while, naming the names so I'm now officially aware of my future, suprisingly I have one. Unfortunately, my team's puppy is being posted away from me, which is a shame. He's young, inexperienced, massively gung ho, and over keen. But things tend to happen while he's about, it's been a good balance. My instinct for getting out of trouble balanced his for getting into it, pretty happy medium. I'll miss him.
So this old internet thing... was talking to someone on line a day or so back, who's back in my home town. Nothing going on, you understand, just a conversation for a bored chappy away from home. But how queer is this? How small is this world? Turns out her ex husband is the brother of a lass I dated when I was 18, and he remembered my name? How damned small is this world?
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 1:56 pm
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