Curious Appertainings

Well I’m on my way back from London {again} on the 5.00pm train {again} just tucking into my tea. I must admit I found it a very hard choice when the “waiter” offered me an egg and cress sandwich or a BLT. Hmmm, which nutritious and delicious morsel should I select from your stunning array of gastronomic delight?.

Egg and cress is bound to have two negative effects. One – my breath will stink like shit in about 3 minutes, and two – my farting power and pungency will increase 10 fold in about 2 hours. BLT also has two negative effects though. One – it’s got more fat in it than a pig at a lard festival {obviously I don’t want to ruin my figure} and two – their “limp and almost invisible”definition of what an L is is different to my “crisp and luxuriously layered beneath the crispy bacon” definition.

BLT does have two distinct advantages though. One – it doesn’t taste completely like horse’s sick eaten by a dog, thrown up by the same dog, re-eaten and then shat out and two – it doesn’t taste completely like horse’s sick eaten by a dog, thrown up by the same dog, re-eaten and shat out. In the words of Kryton, “that might seem like the same point, but it’s such an important point that I thought it worth mentioning twice”.

I had a coffee this morning on the train. Just a black coffee but it tasted horrible, a complete waste of my coffee ration for the week {otherwise I get severe headaches}, so I got water.

I paid with my cash card but apparently I hadn’t bought enough, you have to spend a minimum of a fiver, so I asked for a packet of crisps. “Which flavour?” asked the “waiter”. To me it’s the type of question I’m sure they ask just because they are taking the piss. Everyone knows that there’s only one flavour of crisps, the mighty Salt and Vinegar. He handed me the trough sized packet which I’m sure was an insult to my “weight problem” and I paid with my card.

This is one of the few nights that I went for a quick bevvy after work. Some of my colleagues were nipping into the pub on the way to King’s Cross and invited me. Quite frankly it would have been rude to not go and I was brought up a very polite boy.

I was with them for about half-an-hour, two ladies and one gent {who shall remain nameless to keep their dignity}. They all work at the same office and launched into the office banter, of which I knew nothing. I understood nothing. As I said to them, they must have been speaking Greek. I do remember hearing the words “bra” and “boobs” and the phrase “I’m very proud of my boobs” but there again my brain is especially wired for those topics of conversation and they would have had to have been spoken in Swahili for me not to have heard them.

I had a great time though, short lived as it was, and also got asked to go to the office party and was assured that they wouldn’t go home at 12.00am, except maybe to get more drunk playing Sing Star (although I found out that they mainly had power ballads {shudder}, like the last time I went. So long as it doesn’t clash with the Boldon drink-a-thon that is our office party then I think I might go.

So here I am, finished my sandwich now {mmmmm, I’m so full}, very slightly intoxicated (I only had two) with a keyboard in front of me. That can only mean one thing… I have to write about stuff.

I read in the headlines today that Watford Council had banned all parents from public parks where children play so that they comply with some law that requires them to check all people who work with children. Someone actually got paid to make that decision, and someone else got paid to agree with it. In the words of Stan Lee, “’Nuff Said”.

As you know, I don’t buy papers because they are full of lies and deceit, I read the story at King’s Cross station on a paper that was still on a stack of papers. A lady came and took the top paper (thus leaving a paper that was exactly the same for me to read) and she said “oh sorry, have I taken the paper you were reading” all politely,, like she’d done something wrong. I literally didn’t know what to say, which as you also know, is unheard of for me.

Except…. In another “pub after work” situation. As you also also know I am a bit of a sceptic when it comes to being green, or more specifically of the marketing nonsense that goes with it. As was pointed out to me tonight, in that pub with those Greeks, how do they KNOW that the honey beer is organic? How do they know that some of the nectar is not from a non organic daisy or something?

In this second pub incident, which happened a few weeks ago, I was asking everybody what “sustainable” means. An old favourite question of mine because, basically, no-one has a clue. I mean, how can you have a non sustainable forest? Leave it alone and it will sustain itself forever, surely. After a few minutes of Jolly banter I asked the “sustainability” representative for one of the projects where I work and she said “basically it’s the transfer of assets to the future”.

“Bang, answered. There you go mucker, suck on that”, I thought to myself. Of all the hundreds of people I have asked that question, that is the first answer that made any sense. I will keep that tucked away in my memory, never to be forgot.  But I wouldn’t let it lie… So then I asked, “so how is recycling sustainable?”. Apart from glass and metal it’s expensive and pointless, just bury it in landfill and have done with it. But that was like adding petrol to the bonfire, “but landfill sites are there forever and they are ugly” she exclaimed, “no they’re not”, I replied. “they get turned into parks and the methane gas is used to provide cheap power, how much more sustainable can you get?”. Then came the old claim, “and there’s plastic in the ground, it lasts for thousands of years”. “So what?” I said. “well you don’t want that surely because it’s there for thousands of years”. “But so are rocks”, “when I’m digging the weeds up out of my back garden I don’t find all the rocks and stick them into the recycling”. “I have never argued with anyone like you before, she said”, “I’m going to have to go and sort out some facts you can’t dispute”. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because I’m petty, But I took that as a compliment.

Well, the battery is running out and I  have some hardcore tweeting to do, so I’m out of time, which is probably a good thing.

Have fun!



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