Numbered days

Could the end be in sight for the motoring bitch from Hell? Baz the Bike was over Thursday night for bevvies and alleges he knows where there's a certain 1.8 Vauxhall for sale at a most reasonable price... not what I'm actually after but frankly it'd do for a while, and I suspect the Hellhound Honda is terminally ill, leaking oil from the head like a good'n. I guess this space is one to watch, motoring fans....

No connection or linkage possible with the previous bit, but was speaking to an old buddy in the Northern parts yesterday; always nice to catch up with her. Crap, it would appear manifests itself mighty in her life once more. No names, no pack drills, no identifiable details but nasties that once loomed large in her life are looming again. Where I come from, we shoot mad dogs. Shoulders and opinions proffered as ever, it's bugger all use but if you get to read this matey, zen hugs.

Fairly joyless day at the Factory of Fun. Back again after a break of five days or so... I'd be lying if I said my heart or even my mind was in it yesterday. We were led to believe that our strange start time was due to us tackling what we call A.F.R. (another f****in' Russian). Not to be. I walked in bang on the clock to be faced with wall to wall white shirted colleagues. Oh. It's airport. Joy. On the positive side, we took the out dogs with us... always a joy to work with them, someone who actually enjoys working and doesn't get down by lack of facilities or office politics. Especially cute one yesterday, spaniel bitch with a built in perm. You have to find your laughs where you can these days, folks. My lot on are on call this week, so picked up the mobile for that.... you're not supposed to drink when you're on call, but bollocks to that, went to bed on a glass of wine. It's for medicinal purposes. If I didn't drink, I'd make some bugger very ill ! ! ! !