Busy Weekend

First off - if this post appears as a sheer WALL OF TEXT then I apologise... I think it might be a Beta thingie... This has been a rather fantabulous weekend, if I do say so myself. Friday daytime saw me and the Peanut whizz over to Canvey to see Kellie, where my pretty young girlie to us out to lunch at her local pub. Yes folks, being that I am a sad sad single father, she bought US lunch.

Who am I to argue - women want equality and all that ;)

As per usual, time whizzed by, and as I had to get Ruths girls from school too, we had to leave a little earlier "just in case" It's one thing doing the Bad Daddy thing and forgetting your son, it's a WHOLE new game to fail to collect your best friends kids because you're out schmoozing with a lass.

Friday evening I was babysitting Ruths girls. Being that I am SUCH a good person, I bought Ruth a ticket to see a psychic with her friend. As it happens, her friend Paul was down for the weekend, so he and I sat chattering, drinking beer and being bastards to the four kids in the house; Ruths two, Pauls one, and Ruths nephew.

Now, I HAD taken over the very very stunning movie Cloverfield to watch, but someone decided that watching Big Brother was a better option. A couple of texts from Kellie - who was out on the town with her friends - made me smile during the evening, and once Ruth got in, I headed home, popped some pills and flopped into bed. Tired and Achey, and a night to myself.

Half an hour later, I get a message from Kellie, and then till nearly 4am, I was texting and phoning her as her Fun Night Out took a turn the other way. But, as I promised, I won't mention that here... I think it was the police requesting not to talk about the case...

*ahem*

Saturday, my nieces birthday. Kellie rolled into mine around ten in the morning, we ran some errands (Well, I ran, she tagged along trying to wake up), before we popped on a bus, went to Jo's, kidnapped Jaysen and Tam, and then headed to Gemmas. We were at Amys party till seven that evening or so, and poor Kellie had THAT sort of afternoon...

Bear in mind she already knows my mum and Gemma, this was our first time out as "a couple" to a family thing. And, of course, the entire family turned up. She met mum, and Gemma, and my mums mum, then my dad, his wife, my half sister, my dads mum, and then my uncle and aunt.

The latter reads this blog, so everyone wave to my Auntie Di. Use big movements tho - she's partially sighted, going deaf, and all that other old-biddie-stuff.

Anyways, Kellie pretty much got thrown in at the deep end, and we stood off to one side, gossiping with the Aunt and Uncle. The Uncle that is a police officer. That Kellie recognised. Who also recognised Kellie...I think I need to investigate that avenue of fun ;)

We left, dragged my kids back to Jo who was at her parents - so Kellie then got to meet Jos mum and dad for good measure. We trundled across town, got on a bus driven by a man who wasn't sure what route he was on (Whooo!) and arrived home safe and sound.

"Wanna watch Cloverfield?" I ask? The affirmative reply meant shoes back on, and trundle to Ruth where I had left the DVD.

Ruth was home, Paul was still there, and Alyce (She of the Serpents of DOOM) turned up at the same time as us. We chatted, took the piss, had a laugh - and then the three girls started talking about shoes. Me and Paul compared socks...

Back home, DVD on, Kellie jumping like a girly girl. All good. Then, for good measure, on went Lee Evans Live in Scotland:


You can rummage through YouTube for more of it ;)

After that finished, we went off to bed... And there we stayed. Till FOUR this afternoon.Get yer minds out the gutter.

No kids, no plans, a few coffees... We literally spent the entire day in bed. Talking, messing around, snoozing... The only reason we had to get up was because the erstwhile Ms Kellie had to get home for her kids. She was out and on the bus at half five, and I've kinda poodled around since then.

Jaysen got back at 8pm, we in bed by half eight, and then I decided to blog.

Um... and that's that really :D

So how was your weekend!

Edit: Having a couple of issues with this post - typos not being noticed by spell checkers, bad grammar, and the formatting went mental a bit ago too :S

Another Step Taken

It has to be said, there is never a dull moment in my life. As mentioned in a post a few days back I received some news that my brain simply could not handle very well, and I ended up being sick for most of the evening into the wee small hours.

In short, Jo let me know that her fella, Steve, proposed to her on Monday evening.

As ever, there is more underlying here that I am revealing, so please, no bees in bonnets sil vous plait.

So, aside from the stomach churning shock that it induced, I woke up the next morning and found that, surprisingly, I wasn't worrying, dwelling or thinking about it. When I DID think about it, I wasn't sad, upset, lonely, or anything else. There was no heartache or anything. Regret, maybe, but nothing else. I know Steve and have done for a while, and he is a genuinely nice guy. The kids love him and he gets on with the kids. We get on well too, which is something. He knows about the relationship me and Jo had, and more importantly, the relationship we still have and respects that. As far as Step-Dads for my kids go, he gets my seal of approval ;)

So, go me for not having another breakdown, and while I'm not sure if she will even read this, congratulations to Jo and Steve. I'm glad you're both happy.

The Sis, BIL, And A-to-Z of Nieces

Because the world is filled with that strange creature known as "The Broody Woman" and I have been getting pestered, here are some more pictures of the newborn English er, Longley. Gemma is married. Duh.

Gemma (Post C-Section!), Amy (Looking SO impressed) and Baby Zoe!

Pete (BIL, on Gemmas meds by his expression), Amy riding Daddy, Baby Zoe not allowed on furniture.

A is for "Cheeky Monkey"

Z is for "Awww"

And Z is for "More Awww"

The Baby Now Arriving On Platform Two...

Had to use ImageShack as Blogger is screwing for some reason.

But anyway, this is Zoe, born at 10.04am today, weighing in at seven-pounds-something by C-Section. And as noted by Jo earlier, Gemma now has Amy and Zoe, babies A to Z!

Coming Down The Tubes

One of my hobbies has to be browsing through my StatCounter. Sometimes, I am met with all kinds of weird and wonderful search terms of how Mr Smith-McWeirdo managed to stumble upon my blog, be it obscure porn references, or just down right peculiar stuff.

Sadly, this isn't one of those posts. I know, I miss them too, but I think people have stopped poking around for Nan Porn and stuff... Either that, or they got sick of seeing their IP Address emblazoned for all to see!

My Boobs post from October still generates traffic which I am pleased with - it's amazing how many people find me while looking for breasts. What can I say, everyone loves boobies. If I put my mind to it, I could also find out which pair generates the most traffic to see who has the best pair, but I think that's something I should judge in person really...

No, this post is in reference to a conversation I had with Gemma while busting her hubby as to how much he visits my blog while "working". Now, most of us have our ISPS - Blueyonder, Virgin, NTL, BT, Verizon, Comcast - but those that work for large companies have their OWN ISP Register thingiemajigg. For instance, one of the bloggers I read and in turn, reads me, works for good ol' NASA, and appears on my "visiting ISP" list as "National Aeronautics and Space Agency" which is cool to see.

"Look Ma, NASA dun been here!"

Now, contrary to what I reported Pete's visiting to be at, he has actually dropped a few points from #4.


And for those that don't know, Mr Peter works for West Ham United Football Club, as represented on the list at #7. Out of the last 500 visitors to my blog, he ranked in at 7, with seventeen visits. To put that more into perspective, #6 on the list is BT-Central-Plus, and covers 11 individuals. #5, NTL Luton is 4 different individuals. Granted, Tmobile is 1 person also bored at work checking up on me by her mobile phone. Even #8 on the list, Netspace, is made up of 6 different people.

So there you have it Gemma, when Peter says "I had a hard day at work" what he means is, "I had a hard day playing on the internet, where's my dinner you pregnant wench". I just checked his log, and it works out to about 5 or 6 visits per day.

Must be very hard working for a Premiership club...

Anyway, have a look through and see if you can "spy" yourself or anyone you know ;) Bear in mind, that is everyone with two visits or more, and it only saves the last 500 on my log.

And more importantly, Google Inc have been here too! Hi Google! Send me a supercomputer please and I will love you forever and talk about how great you are! hehe

It Came From Outer Space

It's my blog, and I can say what I like :D Anyways, for those of a broody nature, for those that want to see the shocking images of a Pregnant whale Little Sister, I bring you..




And I quote: "The first one is from a week or so ago and the other 2 are from yesterday when I was 3 days overdue."

Nice lady-like position in that last one Gemma. Such a classy bird. I don't even need to point out to other readers that you are in fact an Essex Girl... And if people are feeling REALLY brave, they can click to make them bigger!

PUUUUSH!

And Push And Breathe

OK, this is a post for Gemma. Well, to help Gemma. See, she's preggers. She's well preggers and is waddling around Basildonia like a whale on two legs. She was due on Saturday, but this baby is refusing to come out.

Yes, it's a girl.

She is trying everything to start herself off - walking, bathing, spicy food, lavendar and thankfully she told me, sex. "Peter Longley Has Sex" That should be interesting if he is ever Googled. I should point out, he's the least busy person I know considering he is #4 of the "Most Repeat Visits" on my statcounter.

Do some work you lazt git.

Anyway, if you know of a way to entice a baby to wiggle out that little lardy sack, now is the time to share. Come on people, think of Pete her - he needs a couple of weeks off work!

Baby Rae Update

Just a quick update... Information I am getting is, I think, 3rd hand at best. The good news is they have decided that whatever is going on is NOT urgent enough to whisk her straight to Guys/St Thomas' Hospital - usually the nasty CHDs are shot over by ambulance when necessary, so that's something.

As for her stopping breathing, or having problems breathing, again, I've heard two versions, and I'm not even sure if she's home or still in the local hospital - I THINK home. So again, good stuff.

They are getting an appointment for the Paediatric Cardiology team which, from personal experience, are top bananas and know their stuff, so they will be in the best hands. Once they've been, have a diagnosis, then I will shout for your CHD Peoples for information. I still don't know if it's the Pulmonary or Aortic Valve causing the shit, or what the actual problem is, but once I know, I will inform the world.

Then you can start working for me, my pretty little monkeys.

Congenital Heart Defects Suck

People that have read my blog for more than a week will know that we lost Bethy to a series of Congenital Heart Defects (CHD). They suck. They suck the big fat one.

I just had a call from Jo who needed some advice. Turns out lightning has struck the family a second time. Jo's older brother Grant had a baby recently, She stopped breathing last night, and it turns out that one of the valves in her heart is either sticking, or not big enough or something similar.

CHD Strikes again. Let's see the geneticists say they're no connection.

Anyway, Baby Rae has been referred to Guys - not sure for when - and obviously Mummy & Daddy are in a state. As is usual with this community, I will be shouting for information in the coming days. Valves were something I never had any dealings with as Bethy had a series of problems to deal with, valves being the least worrying.

So, valve experts be ready :)

In-Laws Competition

For those of you that have known me a while, you will probably know that Jo's dad runs a pretty popular mini-magazine for the gamers out there. It's all made at home on his computers, and he prints and posts it all out off his own back. He does it for the hobby, not the money (which is lucky really!) and has all sorts of companies sending him all sorts of stuff to review.

While most of his stuff is printed and posted in hard copy, he does have a little webpage he keeps running and updated every now and then. Every so often, publishers send him stuff for a reader competition, and he's asked me if I will send the unwashed masses - that's you, the reader - over to his site to enter.

I've been told to point out that none of the email addresses are stored, you won't get spam, yada yada yada. And, to be fair, he blows his hard drive often enough that if he DID store it, it wouldn't stay stored for very long ;)

Anyways, go over to Games Gazette and scroll down to the section that reads "Free To Enter Competition" It's one of these very obvious quizzes with a very obvious answer, even if it is relating to the MMORPG Lineage 2. Prizes include a copy of the Lineage II game, a key ring, a standee (whatever that is!), posters, tee-shirts...

So, go now, enter the quizzy thing. Good luck :)

Edit: Forgot to add - feel free to tell your friends to go enter as well... The more the merrier ;)

A Good Post

Today is V-Day. This is my positive V-Day post. As mentioned before, we don't do Valentines day. Nothing to do with not loving one another, but today has too many bad memories attact from this time in 2005. However, this post is not about that. That's next.

No, this post is to show thanks and appreciation and love to people. First, the computer saga. After lots of digging, running around and price comparing, I have to say a massive thank you to the In Laws. They might be strapped for cash, but they helped us out after much umm'ing and arr'ing, and as of this morning, I recieved a brand new computer. After spending the day fiddling and tweaking, it's as I like it, and I am once again connected.

Second, just because I can, a big hug and a kiss to Jo. I love you dearly, beautiful, and can't imagine my days without you. You put up with all my shit, my mood swings, my grumpiness and my whining about "ouch" and, more than anything, you "get" me without question.

Thirdly, to all my close friends that I harrass chat with, day and night, email, text, messenger. I'm not naming names - those that send me messages, random photos, smiley mails, or just come around to say Hi, thank you to you to.

And lastly, to all of you readers, lurkers, wanderers and everything else. 0ddness passed 50,000 hits this week. Clearly you suckers coming back for more are interested, and that's all I need, so thanks to you lot too.

Happy 14th Feb ;)

So This Is Christmas...

After two days of trying to borrow the neighbours wobbly wireless connections, Grant announces that his internet hub is wireless. So finally I have a decent - and legal - connection here on the laptop.

Anyways - today is Boxing Day over here, which means the crazy usually subsides. But, of course, this is MY life, so the crazy just carries on at a different pitch. The highlight really has to be the sore tingling nose I noticed on Christmas Eve. Twenty four hours later - I have a stinking cold. Or, of course, waking up at 4am Christmas morning thinking "Hmmm my foot is sore" then nearly collapsing on Jaysen when I try to stand on it.

No idea WHAT I've done to it, but it is freaking agony. I am hobbling around like Jo was a few weeks ago. I wouldn't mind, but it happened at night while I was doing nothing. I think Santa decided I was naughty and got out his hammer...

Anyways, all is going relatively well here, with just two family disagreements so far, neither involving me or Jo, so it's all good. Kids are behaving one minute, then getting to that "going mental" point, so they get told off, come back down a few notches, then slowly start to build up again.

And on a final note - Christmas Eve, I sucked it up and went up to Bethy's Garden to wish her a Merry Christmas. My goodness it was difficult, but I did it. I had to just stand and look down on her garden, and Jo looked after me, but I bloody did it. Aside from the funeral, it was the second time I've been up there, but I think it is the last hurdle I need to really deal with. All I ask is if you make a comment on this post, ignore this part - I don't want to wallow or anything. I went, I cried, I've dealt. That's enough for now!

So, today, aside from being a day of lounging around with "uuurgh I ate too much yesterday... Pass me a beer" we're off to my mums after lunch and her pack of wild animals - which I am hoping, the kids play with and not the crystal/china/electronic stuff all over the place ;) Change of plan. Because I am soooo poorly, we're not risking my trip to my mums. My grandmother is due an important Oncology appointment soon, and the last thing she needs is my germs. So, because I am getting *cough* no sympathy from anyone being sooooo poorly, I am going to drink lots of Jack Daniels today.

I hope you are all having a great Christmas, even the poor Americans that don't have Boxing Day. Serves you right for kicking us out all those years ago ;) Your loss!

Merry Christmas Ya'll!

Being that life here in Chez 0ddness is something akin to an SAS Operation over the last couple of days (with no Sunday Morning hangover, I should add), I suspect my internet access today and tomorrow will be spotty, to say the least. Later today we're off to the in-laws as today is one birthday.

We're staying over tonight, Xmas Day chaos, staying over, Boxing Day Chaos, then my mums in the afternoon, then back to the in-laws, home on the 27th, then Friday we're likely going to my dads, quiet weekend coupled with Jo's mums birthday, then New Year kicks in, complete with Jo's brothers birthday on New Years Eve AND a fancy dress party we're going to... Then Jaysen is back to school on the 3rd.

It's never ending, I swear it.

So, I'll take this chance to wish you all a VERY Merry Christmas and if I don't get a chance before hand, a wonderful Happy New Year 2008.

For those of you that have been reading the blog a while, thanks for hanging around and supporting me. For those of you new to the blog, thanks for coming over and reading.

2008 may have a couple of new additions to the blog, but we'll see about that ;)

Have a good time all, eat, drink, be merry and especially, be safe.

-Dan, Jo, Jaysen & Tamsyn

Whinefest (Part the First)

Sometimes you just want to kill people. And I don't mean that literally, Mr FBI/MI5 or which ever government agencies might flag me for that. I mean just pure GAH!

None of this is in any order of irritation/whine/bitch, it's just as they come to mind, as they flow off the grey matter and onto the great big cyber lump that is the blog.

Names may or may not be changed to protect the innocent.


The Wrong Number:
So this morning on the way to school, my mobile rings. Not only do I not recognise the number, but it's also international. So I ignore it. And ignore it. And ignore it every time it rings the following dozen times. Eventually, because I'm just feeling all GAH! already, I answer it. Someone jabbers at me.

"I only speak English"
More babble
"I'm sorry, you've probably got the wrong number" I say, rationalising, that this person is trying to contact someone that not only speaks Italian, but is expecting so many attempts at a call.
"I calla from da Italy" he says in 'English'. I say 'English' because his accent was so heavy I could hardly understand it.
"I think you have the wrong number" wondering for a minute if it's a certain crazy Italian I know having a laugh. L0tars, if that was you, I'll kill you. Anyway...
"Meester Terrrry? I calla from da Italy" he says again.
"No, I'm not Terry nor Mr Terry, you have the wrong number.
"Dis da numba I have for da Meester Terrrry. Do you have da numba for longa?"
"This is my number, and it's a new number (I know, I checked), so you're dialling wrong."
"Oh, itsa okay, I'm a sorreeee."
"No worries, thanks, bye"

Fifteen nano seconds later, the phone rings, Italian number. "You've still got the wrong number".
"Meester Terrrry?"

Rinse and repeat three times before I switch Mr Mobile to silent.

And no, I won't apologise for my Italian accent impression.


Damn Kids: The Boy
It's the weather, I swear to all that is good and pure, it must be the weather. My little cherub that is Jaysen has just been Mooder of the Year this last week. Everything you ask is "hang on" or "in a minute" or an outright "no". It's not just him; I've noticed a few kids in his class are talking the same way to their parents, so if it's not the weather, it's a nasty case of airborne Shitbagitus going around school.

Case in Point: This morning at 7am, I get up, and he's on Jo's computer, killing all that is evil in Unreal Tournament. He's in his boxers.
"Morning little man" I offer in way of greeting, as I do every morning.
"Make me breakfast" is the reply. I offer a "pfft" and give him The Daddy Look, but he doesn't see it, too engrossed in winning. I saunter off to have a whizz and a shower, come back in, and he's not moved. By now, it's 7.30am.

Yes, I had to wash my hair.

"Jaysen, get dressed and breakfast"
"I don't wanna go to school" he replies - still not looking at me.
"Tough -" I reply, leaning over to hit pause, which gets me a glare "- now go get your clothes on and get breakfast."
He stomps off, huffing and puffing, so I kill his game. Don't care if it's not saved or whatever, his loss.
"I can't find any boxers" he says.
"They're in your drawer" I reply, knowing the next question/statement will be,
"I've not got any socks" he calls upstairs.
"In the basket. The basket full of socks." I call back down, grinding my teeth. Bear in mind, the clothing hunt occurs every morning. Socks and Boxers are ALWAYS in the same place, trousers are ALWAYS where he left them (ie, somewhere at random between the front door and his bedroom), and shirts are ALWAYS hanging up. But I digress.
He comes back upstairs (stomping) and starts whining about how school is unfair, how Tam gets to stay home, how it's boring and blah blah blah. Till he sees Jo's computer is on her desktop and not a paused game of Unreal.
Cue more bitching and more whining, and he sits on the sofa watching cartoons in a huff.
I just fuel the fire, remind him to get breakfast and to get a move on.

The joy continues right up till the moment he says bye bye, and goes through the school gate.
Daily.


Doctors Are Evil
It's no great secret that my previous GP was a bit... Well, we'll call him "off his game", when a closer representation would be something along the lines of sandwiches missing from picnics , or being as mad as a box of frogs. While he had told me many times what "could" be wrong with me, I was never told, "Mr English, here is a diagnosis for your issues."

I should point out too, that Previous GP was also struck off the medical register for "Outdated Practices". Which I won't even go over because, you know, it's just more whining.

So, New GP; He's young, hip, knows his shizz and is a smart button. So when I tell him what could be wrong with me, he gets a form, scribbles on it, and says something that involves my least favorite words.

Blood Test.

I am not a needle person. Tattoo needles; no problem. Piercing needles; piece of piss. Bodily-fluid-removal/adding-needles; whoooole different kettle of fish. In a different ballgame. I'm the man that goes for a flu shot, and leaves with a concussion. I'm the man that goes to have stitches and a tetanus, and leaves with an accident report card.

So yesterday, while trying to fix Celestes computer (yet another story), Jo texts me. "Mum will be here in the morning to take you for your blood test".

Impending doom. That's all I feel.

Last night, I did NOT sleep. When I did manage to doze off, I had nightmares of needles, bloods being drawn and all sorts of generic nastiness. I felt like turds this morning, I've picked my fingers into oblivion. Jo's mum arrived bright and early, we pack off into the car, and head to the hospital. It might as well have been Barad-dûr for all I cared.

The Pathology department is always busy. The doctors of the area seem to send everyone up there at random, plus the preggers people waddling in for their tests. The average age, I should add, is about 826 years, thanks to the horde of old cronies (+partner) that live up there. The waiting system, akin to a butcher, is take a ticket, wait for your number.

Yes, "Your number is up" does spring to mind.

Screen Display upon arrival: 31
Ticket Number in sweaty hand: 61

Shit.

Like a deer trapped in headlights, I sit in the waiting room; Jo is being ever so supportive by counting down for me "Ooooh only 14 to go" BZZZ "Oooh 13" BZZZ" Just 12 - not too bad is it..." Tam is trying to entertain me by running around and acting cute, while Jo's mum is corralling Tam so she doesn't escape into the bowels of Basildon Hospital.

58, 59, 60.......................... 61.

So I go in, Jo follows, and I sit in front of one of the blood sucking vampires phlebotomists. I hand her my form, she pulls forth her sword and Jo interrupts. "Has he told you he's scared of needles" The woman smirks and answers no, giving me that awwww but you're a big boy. You want a lolly pop? Jo then adds "Did he tells you he sometimes passes out?" Vampire Queen stops and looks at me with that look only a woman can give. "No, he didn't, but you really should tell us that sort of thing."

Yes, I know I should tell, but it's really not manly is it.

So I get impaled on her spike and she asks if I am ok. I can't talk, my tongue is lost somewhere in Bermuda. My eyes are cold, and the room is very pretty and spinny. Plus, the dead giveaway is the Cold Eyes. My eyes get cold when I am going to drop. Jo is telling me to stay with her and the leech is working hard to JustGetTheDamnBloodAndGetTheFreakOut.

After she drains my gallon of blood, I sit, whoozy as hell, trying to relocate my tongue, and after a minute, she kicks me out. I survived in a manly fashion, but now feel sick and headachey.

Just for a doc to look at it and shrug.

Oh, and to rub salt in the wound - I had to starve for this test, no food after midnight (because I am gremlin thing) and nothing to drink after 3am. The Pathology lab is through the small cafe in the hospital.


Damn Kids: The Girl
Tam is well, truly and fully rooted into her Terrible Twos. Seriously, this child has done everything BUT murder, and even then, I wouldn't put it past her. She's good at hiding evidence.

For example. I get in last night, and where Jo is still The Hobble Queen, she had Tam and Jaysen go downstairs and get some cereal. I don't know why they wanted it after dinner, but hey, better than whatever else they wanted. Jaysen tells Jo that Tam spilt some cereal. Jo tells Jaysen to leave it for Sally.

Anyway, I get in, take two paces into the darkened hall and hear *crunch* from underfoot. Cereal. Through the hall, up three or four stairs, and covering the kitching and dining room. A virtually full box of cereal, scattered. Sally sits on the stairs looking down at me, and her expression says "Piss off, I ain't eating that"

Well what good are you then. So I crunch through to the kitchen, get the dustpan and brush, and crunch through to the hall, and sweep my way through the ground floor of the house. Golden Balls, how I hate thee.

Yes, Golden Balls, that is what they are. So the get caught by the brush and roll away.

Aside from cereal incidents, Tam also loves to play with toys. Yesterday after lunch, Jo went upstairs and tidied up Tams room. She had strewn stuff all over the shop, so Jo cleared it up. 7.30pm rolls around, and the kids go to bed. Both of them dick around at bedtime something chronic, but last night, Tam had bigger plans. She wanted to surpass herself...


That, dear reader, is Tamsyns room. But wait, there's more. Not content with covering 94% of her own bedroom in toys and junk, she moved up the food chain:


And that is Jaysens room. Full marks for being thorough. I can't get into either room without stomping on something.

And I'm not even going to detail her wanting to do everything by herself. I mean cooking, and carrying hot/sharp things and generally throwing an arsey strop fit if she's not allowed. Nor will I cover the highdive bombing run she performs on me in bed at random. Nor the stroppy kicking/pitching/scratching she performs occasionally.


And to make things even more interesting, this isn't actually everything. Not yet. I've not ranted about idiots online, idiots around me, nor the inlaws, nor the washing machine repossession, not even computers and technology or anything else that is just hacking me off. But I will... Oh yes...

Now if you will excuse me, I need to wash up in order to make myself a cup of tea and some toast.

Having Nightmare Day(s)

With us toddling off to a friends for the weekend, we decided to fiddle the laptop into getting Warcraft to run so we're not left out. Well, I decided it wouldn't hurt to reinstall the laptop, and a couple of days back, set to the "Backup/Copy/Reinstall" formula that some of you know so well.

And I got the bloody thing running again TODAY. It's just been a complete f'ing bitch to sort out, with errors and whatnot, but finally, I beat it into submission and now have a laptop that can run WoW - it'll be low quality, but it works, and that's a win in my book.

This morning Jaysen was a pain in the ass and was arguing and bitching about everything. A few late nights in a row and he becomes Satan incarnate. Anything and everything that could go wrong DID go wrong today, not to mention the house appeared to resemble a squat. Thankfully, my shouting and ranting at The Boy this morning woke up Jo, and while I was doing the school run - running late, no less - she set to deshitifying the house.

I'm tired, I ache, and just pissed off. I am SO looking forward to escaping for the weekend!

Saw the doctor yesterday finally, after getting accepted to the new surgery. However, we saw the Nurse, not the doc for whatever reasons, which means the meds I ran out of night-before-last but was expecting to get replaced yesterday... Well, hopefully I'll get a refill by Friday morning or the weekend will be... interesting.

We went to Jo's parents last night for Halloween. Her mum makes a mean chunky chilli, the kids dress up and hand out the sweets to the kids knocking on the doors, and generally act social. However... Within 15 minutes of walking in, Jo's dad gave me his laptop and said "computery things - fix the sound". I spent 45 minutes getting pissed off at someone elses computer (remember, at this point, I was losing in a fight against my own machine!), and could NOT figure it out. I threw in the towel, when Jo's mum leaned in and turned up the volume control on the side.

I couldn't make this shit up ;)

It was just one thing after another, and by 8.30pm, I was ready for bed. My laptop had other ideas, and I sat up till gone 11pm screaming at the stupid thing. I won though.

Anyways, we're now into November. Joy. Xmas is looming, the shops in town at getting worse, but on the bright side, there is plenty of Stollen for me to gorge myself on. Mmmmm...

As for the boobies of October - I still have a couple of Female-Pairs to put up, and then, just for the girls, I will do a post of Moobs. I have mine still to post, and a few pairs that have been sent to me, so fair is fair, after all. As it stands, I've got just over £15 to donate to a Breast Cancer charity from the girlies, and probably another £5 or so for the moobs. Not too shabby, really.

And I have received a challenge from someone. If I start "training" now, she will stump up £50 for me to do a walk of at least 26 miles in 2009. That's a marathon. This is my own fault for mentioning I'd love to do something walkie-based for charity, and so there it is. Gauntlet thrown.

And who am I to engage common sense?! So in the next few days/weeks/months, I have to decide on What and Where I am going to do, and figure out some kind of "get slightly fitter so I don't fall over" scheme. Happy Days.

If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears. I'm rather fond of trying to find a 26-mile slope and buying a pair of roller skates... And for the bloody-minded among you, yes, I have a passport!

House Sitting 2: The Revenge

So, last night me and Jaysen traipsed across Basildon to come help out Jo with the housesitting. It was quite a slog, with three backpacks, two bags of shopping and a stupid-ass dog, but we made it.

And yes, my feet smelled.

But anyway, we get in and the first thing that greets us is the sound of a blaring television. Jo rolls her eyes when I ask about it - thinking Tam was screwing with the remote. No no, it was "The Aunt", at the back of the house, on another floor, with the TV cranked up so high, I could hear it perfectly before even entering the house.

Wow.

All evening, we stayed in the lounge while the anti-social old cow had her TV loud enough to drown out Pirates of the Caribbean in surround sound. Through a closed door. Then she came in and asked Jo for food.

She's poorly, not crippled.

So, 10pm, not a school night, we throw the kids into bed, neither of which can sleep because the TV downstairs is still blaring. She knows the kids are in bed, because A) They said good night, and B) We told her, hoping she'd get the hint. She didn't.

We go to bed around 11pm, TV still blaring, kids getting cranky, me really cranky, and me and Jo are in bed listening to her listen to some political debate program. I listen, through two closed doors, on a different floor of the house, to them debate the state of the NHS when finally, around midnight, it goes off.

Thank F$CK.

2am, the dog we're looking after starts to randomly bark. And at 3, 4, 5, and then pretty much constantly till 8am. And then the TV goes on downstairs.

So, today I am tired, cranky, headache-ridden, and ready to kill someone. Even as I sit here writing this, Jaysen is watching Cartoon Network, and I can hear - through two closed doors and at different sides of the house - her listening to her Daytime TV programmes.

*huff*

And don't get me started on the list of things Jo has to do, the fact the wireless network has been thrown away (the one I fixed, that worked perfectly, but his laptop was broken, so he assumed it was the network) and I have to connect to the web a different way, AND the lack of food that Jo has been left to house sit - she had to do her own shopping, despite being told "there's plenty in the fridge/freezer"

*more huffs*

A Friend In Need...

With me and the boy at home, it's nice to do things without female interference. You know, I can tidy up and not have one of the girls trashing the house behind me. I can make a sarnie and enjoy it without having it stolen off me. I can get a drink, and not end up having to carry up the rest of the kitchen for everyone else.

I can even take my boots off without being moaned at about the smell. OK, that's a lie, Jaysen hates my smelly feet too, but other than that, all is quiet.

I plonked into bed just after 11pm last night - no need to leave a light on ("In case I need a wee") and no need to bring up a drink ("In case I wake up thirsty"), no need to start the DVD player off again ("It keeps her quiet"). I had a shower, got Man-Dry (you know, once over with the towel, job done), and fell into bed.

Where I laid reading till 3am, without being moaned at for the light being on. Ahhhh bliss. I nodded off just before 4am and spread as far as I liked in the bed, used as many pillows as I liked, rolled over without squashing a woman or a toddler and generally slept for a couple of hours, before getting up, showering and checking my mail around 6am.

Just after 7am, my phone rings. The only person to call at that time of the day is Ruth, usually to advise "Can I bring such-and-such-item" when I come around at 8.20am, or to say she or the girls are sick and not to worry about knocking.

She didn't sound happy, and it transpired that in her wisdom, she tripped over a shoe in the dark and slipped down the stairs. Ouchy. Guess she should have left a light on in case she needed a wee in the night. *ahem*

Anyway, me and Jaysen hastily got sorted and shot around there to help out where we could, but her girls had pretty much done everything that needed doing. I took them into school and came back to help her with anything, where she abused her "injured" status (like all women do, be it tooth extraction, birth, a cold/flu... bunch of wimps) and made me do her housework, make her coffee, even go and do her shopping for her. I'm surprised she didn't ask me to clean her loo or anything.

And her house is deadly - she has evil lampshades that attack me when ever I walk past them.

Anyways, by half ten, I doped her on drugs and escaped before she decided her lawn needed mowing, and came home to do my own housework, where I've done laundry, folding clothes, tidying toys, sweeping, wrestling with a veritable mountain of female shoes and generally been busy.

I sat down to lunch just after midday and put my feet up. Jo has been phoning on and off all morning, something about lack of sleep or something, but you know how these females exaggerate. And Evil Old Aunt That's Not Really An Aunt hasn't croaked yet, though I did get a text earlier that read:

"Think the old cow is going to croak on me - she's upstairs retching away for no reason"

The crazy old cow even told Jo off for getting up late. Jo - up at 7am with Tam. Crazy Cow - up at 10am to tell off Jo. And yes, I sound callous and horrible, but she's one of those cranky old ladies. She even gave Jo a hard time because she had to make her own toast "so late" in the day.

I suspect Jo will be the same in a couple of years.

And to finish, I've been enjoying a "sliced meat" product over the last couple of days in my sandwiches. Probably hugely bad for you, but I figured it was meatloaf. "Haslet" as it turns out, is made from "Pork Entrails". Entrails being everything from the Oral Cavity - that's the tongue - all the way through to the back door, or, biologically speaking, the anus. Checked the ingredients list (cunningly placed on the underside of the packaging) and sure enough - "Meat from Pork Sources" which translates to "the wiggly bits from the tongue through to the bumhole".

Still, it's nice though! Jo didn't sound too impressed when I told her - wish I had found out sooner while she was eating it though. Comedy is all in the timing.

I just hope helping Mr Motorcyclist and now Ruth has assured my place in a less pit of Hell.

Pack Up Yer Troubles

And so it came to pass, Dear Reader, that as of 5pm this afternoon, Jo and Tam are off housesitting till the weekend. "But Dan!" I hear you cry "Isn't Jaysen at school this week?" And yes, the little man is still at school, which means Me and The Boy will not be traipsing across Basildon twice a day. No no, Me and The Boy will be lazing here in our pants, drinking shandy and burping/farting till our day is content.

Jo and The Girl will be doing makeup, hair, nails and whatever else it is that girlies do, without causing Me and They Boy to hack up a lung or anything.

This means that one of us drawn the short straw, but I'm not sure who. The house here is chaos, which means I'll get the house sorted without "Outside Interference" while Jo has to look after random critters and a "sick" old fart which isn't me for once. Of course, it's not helped by the fact I keep telling Jo the old fart will probably pop-her-clogs while Jo is there.

No, I shouldn't laugh, but then I am an evil shit.


[-8]

Sis

Go read the latest post on my ickle sisters blog. Go, now. Go on. Shoo!

Edit: Yes, a link might be handy for you... http://worldofgems.blogspot.com

Sorry!

Holland, Baby!

Whooo, Saturday morning is it kids! Up at dawn, out at the crack of the day setting off to the (stereotype alert!) Land of Windmills, Clogs, Tulips, "Coffee" Shops and whatever else they are "known" for.

Yep, in just a couple of days, we head off over the English Channel into France, the up through France, through Belgium and into The Netherlands. Which sounds rude if you're dirty minded. Going by car should be interesting - when Jo was preggers with Jaysen, we went from Home to a place near Rome in two days. This trip SHOULD be just a day.

According to Maporama, it's 336miles from "Basildon" to "Amsterdam". As the crow flies (ie, a straight line!) it's not even two hundred miles, but still, I'm not a crow, my flying skills leave something to be desired and generally, it's not very doable for us. So 300+ miles it is.

Our itinerary is literally going to be "HOLIDAY!" with no real planning. There's a water park, and Amsterdam is only half an hour away which I am SO looking forward to seeing. Other than that, it's just going to be nice to get away from it all. We're pretty much packed and sorted aside from a few last minute things.

This DOES mean I will be in another country for my birthday! I think Monday is the day we're planning on hitting Amsterdam, so that should be fun. This also means that - once again - I will be missing Talk Like A Pirate Day on the blog. Not in person, mind you - oh no ;)

I don't speak a single word of Dutch, but being English, this just means I will shout, make obscure gestures, and make the natives think all Brits are pig-ignorant. Unless they knew that already, in which case I will be reinforcing the point.

Come on the British! hehe

Not sure what web-access will be like - will see what's around when we arrive, as like a true geek, I will be taking my laptop AND international mains adapter. Phone, Camera, chargers, memory cards, passports, drugs prescribed medicine...

If I get a chance, I will post on the blog and check mail while away, but if all is quiet, it just means I'm too drunk and stoned busy to get online!

And remember to Blog like a Pirate on the 19th, or else!!