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Monday, June 5th, 2006
Where'd the weekend go?
I am sitting here, it's 8.15 and I'm smoking a gasper. The usual ritual of jaw-cracking yawns and tears on the cheeks continues.
This week I shall win the jackpot on the lottery and quit my job to live a life of mild-mannered and port-fuelled dissolution. I shall then employ someone to get up and yawn for me.
Ah, me.
Better get dressed.
I am sitting here, it's 8.15 and I'm smoking a gasper. The usual ritual of jaw-cracking yawns and tears on the cheeks continues.
This week I shall win the jackpot on the lottery and quit my job to live a life of mild-mannered and port-fuelled dissolution. I shall then employ someone to get up and yawn for me.
Ah, me.
Better get dressed.
Where'd the weekend go?
I am sitting here, it's 8.15 and I'm smoking a gasper. The usual ritual of jaw-cracking yawns and tears on the cheeks continues.
This week I shall win the jackpot on the lottery and quit my job to live a life of mild-mannered and port-fuelled dissolution. I shall then employ someone to get up and yawn for me.
Ah, me.
Better get dressed.
I am sitting here, it's 8.15 and I'm smoking a gasper. The usual ritual of jaw-cracking yawns and tears on the cheeks continues.
This week I shall win the jackpot on the lottery and quit my job to live a life of mild-mannered and port-fuelled dissolution. I shall then employ someone to get up and yawn for me.
Ah, me.
Better get dressed.
I will do some work in a minute...
Monday, June 5th, 2006 11:00 amThis doesn’t really bode well at all. When I woke up this morning – after the ritual yawn and the obligatory hour sitting around muttering OGodOGodOGodOGod (the closest I’m likely to come to a prayer most of the time) I thought to myself about all the bits and pieces I need to do in the office this week. I had a plan.
Now I’m here, I just want to go to sleep. I’m on my second cup of coffee and I have been here a mere 55 minutes.
Part of the problem, I think, is that I didn’t get my thunderstorm last night. I was looking forward to it and it never came. The telltale pressure behind the eyes wasn’t so telltale after all (maybe I should invest in a pine cone) and probably had more to do with blood pressure and/or dehydration than it did the weather. Thinking back on it, I should have known. My dodgy ankle didn’t give me gyp in the way it usually does just before a good storm, but I was so looking forward to a good downpour and CGI quality lightning that I let that wash over me.
I don’t know what today holds weather wise, but I hope that any potential storms will hold off until I’ve got home this evening so that I can enjoy them properly. They are wasted at work while I am in an air conditioned cocoon.
This coming lunchtime I must away to the bank and cash a couple of cheques that are now perilously close to their expiration dates. I am lazy, but I am not rich, so although I can effortlessly hold off cashing them for three months, I cannot afford to maintain that level of laxity. This will take me past The Army and Navy on Victoria Street, so I shall pop in there and investigate the price of England shirts – all previous attempts to make that purchase having been thwarted by a combination of poor luck, bad planning and general incompetence.
I am going to go and have a smoke now and then I suppose I ought to at least attempt to do what I am supposed to be here for.
Games night tonight, though. Clear off home early. Fantastic.
I wonder when they will start noticing that I am going home early twice a week for the same games night…?
Now I’m here, I just want to go to sleep. I’m on my second cup of coffee and I have been here a mere 55 minutes.
Part of the problem, I think, is that I didn’t get my thunderstorm last night. I was looking forward to it and it never came. The telltale pressure behind the eyes wasn’t so telltale after all (maybe I should invest in a pine cone) and probably had more to do with blood pressure and/or dehydration than it did the weather. Thinking back on it, I should have known. My dodgy ankle didn’t give me gyp in the way it usually does just before a good storm, but I was so looking forward to a good downpour and CGI quality lightning that I let that wash over me.
I don’t know what today holds weather wise, but I hope that any potential storms will hold off until I’ve got home this evening so that I can enjoy them properly. They are wasted at work while I am in an air conditioned cocoon.
This coming lunchtime I must away to the bank and cash a couple of cheques that are now perilously close to their expiration dates. I am lazy, but I am not rich, so although I can effortlessly hold off cashing them for three months, I cannot afford to maintain that level of laxity. This will take me past The Army and Navy on Victoria Street, so I shall pop in there and investigate the price of England shirts – all previous attempts to make that purchase having been thwarted by a combination of poor luck, bad planning and general incompetence.
I am going to go and have a smoke now and then I suppose I ought to at least attempt to do what I am supposed to be here for.
Games night tonight, though. Clear off home early. Fantastic.
I wonder when they will start noticing that I am going home early twice a week for the same games night…?
I will do some work in a minute...
Monday, June 5th, 2006 11:00 amThis doesn’t really bode well at all. When I woke up this morning – after the ritual yawn and the obligatory hour sitting around muttering OGodOGodOGodOGod (the closest I’m likely to come to a prayer most of the time) I thought to myself about all the bits and pieces I need to do in the office this week. I had a plan.
Now I’m here, I just want to go to sleep. I’m on my second cup of coffee and I have been here a mere 55 minutes.
Part of the problem, I think, is that I didn’t get my thunderstorm last night. I was looking forward to it and it never came. The telltale pressure behind the eyes wasn’t so telltale after all (maybe I should invest in a pine cone) and probably had more to do with blood pressure and/or dehydration than it did the weather. Thinking back on it, I should have known. My dodgy ankle didn’t give me gyp in the way it usually does just before a good storm, but I was so looking forward to a good downpour and CGI quality lightning that I let that wash over me.
I don’t know what today holds weather wise, but I hope that any potential storms will hold off until I’ve got home this evening so that I can enjoy them properly. They are wasted at work while I am in an air conditioned cocoon.
This coming lunchtime I must away to the bank and cash a couple of cheques that are now perilously close to their expiration dates. I am lazy, but I am not rich, so although I can effortlessly hold off cashing them for three months, I cannot afford to maintain that level of laxity. This will take me past The Army and Navy on Victoria Street, so I shall pop in there and investigate the price of England shirts – all previous attempts to make that purchase having been thwarted by a combination of poor luck, bad planning and general incompetence.
I am going to go and have a smoke now and then I suppose I ought to at least attempt to do what I am supposed to be here for.
Games night tonight, though. Clear off home early. Fantastic.
I wonder when they will start noticing that I am going home early twice a week for the same games night…?
Now I’m here, I just want to go to sleep. I’m on my second cup of coffee and I have been here a mere 55 minutes.
Part of the problem, I think, is that I didn’t get my thunderstorm last night. I was looking forward to it and it never came. The telltale pressure behind the eyes wasn’t so telltale after all (maybe I should invest in a pine cone) and probably had more to do with blood pressure and/or dehydration than it did the weather. Thinking back on it, I should have known. My dodgy ankle didn’t give me gyp in the way it usually does just before a good storm, but I was so looking forward to a good downpour and CGI quality lightning that I let that wash over me.
I don’t know what today holds weather wise, but I hope that any potential storms will hold off until I’ve got home this evening so that I can enjoy them properly. They are wasted at work while I am in an air conditioned cocoon.
This coming lunchtime I must away to the bank and cash a couple of cheques that are now perilously close to their expiration dates. I am lazy, but I am not rich, so although I can effortlessly hold off cashing them for three months, I cannot afford to maintain that level of laxity. This will take me past The Army and Navy on Victoria Street, so I shall pop in there and investigate the price of England shirts – all previous attempts to make that purchase having been thwarted by a combination of poor luck, bad planning and general incompetence.
I am going to go and have a smoke now and then I suppose I ought to at least attempt to do what I am supposed to be here for.
Games night tonight, though. Clear off home early. Fantastic.
I wonder when they will start noticing that I am going home early twice a week for the same games night…?
real hassle for replica shirts
Monday, June 5th, 2006 03:49 pmOnce again, your hero discovers a philosophical difference with a leading retailer over what constitutes a fair price for merchandise. You will recall that I decided to purchase a new England shirt ahead of the forthcoming World Cup tournament. So far, so good. There really is nowhere immediately adjacent to my workplace to buy one, although there is a couple of places around here that might be expected to maintain modest stocks.
Marks and Spencer seem to have struck up a deal with the FA that entails them making their own official merchandise, which is nice, but none of the various shirts, tees, jackets, jerseys and polos are actually replicas. There is something that looks reasonably close to the 1966 shirt, but not the current design. At least their prices are reasonable.
Army & Navy on the other hand (who now seem to have been rebadged as plain old House of Fraser) have an entirely different approach. They are selling replica shirts from just about every era except the current one, and have decided that they will charge between £50 and £55 for the privilege. Good luck to you, guys. I expect to see much the same stock back on sale in two years time when the European Championships are in full swing – provided we qualify, of course. It’s not as if there is an obvious leap in quality, either. Nope, just plain rip off, guys. More so when you consider that charging £35 - £45 is generally seen as overdoing it.
Ah well, back to Plan A. It’s games night and I shall be disappearing off at four, that will give me time to get to Oxford Street and investigate the mysteries of JJB Sports, where I hope, they are selling the Real McCoy at sensible prices. Failing that, I suppose that I shall have to go to the awkwardly located (from here, at least) Lilywhites as previously advertised.
In the face of all this hassle, my enthusiasm has yet to wane. I must be coming down with something.
Marks and Spencer seem to have struck up a deal with the FA that entails them making their own official merchandise, which is nice, but none of the various shirts, tees, jackets, jerseys and polos are actually replicas. There is something that looks reasonably close to the 1966 shirt, but not the current design. At least their prices are reasonable.
Army & Navy on the other hand (who now seem to have been rebadged as plain old House of Fraser) have an entirely different approach. They are selling replica shirts from just about every era except the current one, and have decided that they will charge between £50 and £55 for the privilege. Good luck to you, guys. I expect to see much the same stock back on sale in two years time when the European Championships are in full swing – provided we qualify, of course. It’s not as if there is an obvious leap in quality, either. Nope, just plain rip off, guys. More so when you consider that charging £35 - £45 is generally seen as overdoing it.
Ah well, back to Plan A. It’s games night and I shall be disappearing off at four, that will give me time to get to Oxford Street and investigate the mysteries of JJB Sports, where I hope, they are selling the Real McCoy at sensible prices. Failing that, I suppose that I shall have to go to the awkwardly located (from here, at least) Lilywhites as previously advertised.
In the face of all this hassle, my enthusiasm has yet to wane. I must be coming down with something.
real hassle for replica shirts
Monday, June 5th, 2006 03:49 pmOnce again, your hero discovers a philosophical difference with a leading retailer over what constitutes a fair price for merchandise. You will recall that I decided to purchase a new England shirt ahead of the forthcoming World Cup tournament. So far, so good. There really is nowhere immediately adjacent to my workplace to buy one, although there is a couple of places around here that might be expected to maintain modest stocks.
Marks and Spencer seem to have struck up a deal with the FA that entails them making their own official merchandise, which is nice, but none of the various shirts, tees, jackets, jerseys and polos are actually replicas. There is something that looks reasonably close to the 1966 shirt, but not the current design. At least their prices are reasonable.
Army & Navy on the other hand (who now seem to have been rebadged as plain old House of Fraser) have an entirely different approach. They are selling replica shirts from just about every era except the current one, and have decided that they will charge between £50 and £55 for the privilege. Good luck to you, guys. I expect to see much the same stock back on sale in two years time when the European Championships are in full swing – provided we qualify, of course. It’s not as if there is an obvious leap in quality, either. Nope, just plain rip off, guys. More so when you consider that charging £35 - £45 is generally seen as overdoing it.
Ah well, back to Plan A. It’s games night and I shall be disappearing off at four, that will give me time to get to Oxford Street and investigate the mysteries of JJB Sports, where I hope, they are selling the Real McCoy at sensible prices. Failing that, I suppose that I shall have to go to the awkwardly located (from here, at least) Lilywhites as previously advertised.
In the face of all this hassle, my enthusiasm has yet to wane. I must be coming down with something.
Marks and Spencer seem to have struck up a deal with the FA that entails them making their own official merchandise, which is nice, but none of the various shirts, tees, jackets, jerseys and polos are actually replicas. There is something that looks reasonably close to the 1966 shirt, but not the current design. At least their prices are reasonable.
Army & Navy on the other hand (who now seem to have been rebadged as plain old House of Fraser) have an entirely different approach. They are selling replica shirts from just about every era except the current one, and have decided that they will charge between £50 and £55 for the privilege. Good luck to you, guys. I expect to see much the same stock back on sale in two years time when the European Championships are in full swing – provided we qualify, of course. It’s not as if there is an obvious leap in quality, either. Nope, just plain rip off, guys. More so when you consider that charging £35 - £45 is generally seen as overdoing it.
Ah well, back to Plan A. It’s games night and I shall be disappearing off at four, that will give me time to get to Oxford Street and investigate the mysteries of JJB Sports, where I hope, they are selling the Real McCoy at sensible prices. Failing that, I suppose that I shall have to go to the awkwardly located (from here, at least) Lilywhites as previously advertised.
In the face of all this hassle, my enthusiasm has yet to wane. I must be coming down with something.