Into the fourth millennium...

Hoo ha. I have just had a sneezing fit that I thought wasn’t going to stop (though clearly it has). It was one of those horrible tickles high up in the sinus that you just can’t shift. That and the humidity have served to make me a soggy Bryan in the office today.

I’m pretty sure that the air conditioning still isn’t properly fixed, but then I always think that, even when it’s working properly, so I’m no judge, clearly.

I’m not the only one who is suffering from the temperatures – my lackey, who is normally quite mild mannered and patient has just had a ding-dong battle with some dweeb in accounts. The dweeb was clearly neither listening nor willing to pass the problem up the line, so Victoria is going to have to side step that contact and go elsewhere: last month’s payments run has not appeared on the system (the receipts, processed at the same time have) and at some point it will all come back, all red eyes, pointy teeth and stringy drool, to bite someone on the jacksie.

That won’t be us.

Into the fourth millennium...

Hoo ha. I have just had a sneezing fit that I thought wasn’t going to stop (though clearly it has). It was one of those horrible tickles high up in the sinus that you just can’t shift. That and the humidity have served to make me a soggy Bryan in the office today.

I’m pretty sure that the air conditioning still isn’t properly fixed, but then I always think that, even when it’s working properly, so I’m no judge, clearly.

I’m not the only one who is suffering from the temperatures – my lackey, who is normally quite mild mannered and patient has just had a ding-dong battle with some dweeb in accounts. The dweeb was clearly neither listening nor willing to pass the problem up the line, so Victoria is going to have to side step that contact and go elsewhere: last month’s payments run has not appeared on the system (the receipts, processed at the same time have) and at some point it will all come back, all red eyes, pointy teeth and stringy drool, to bite someone on the jacksie.

That won’t be us.

sizzle

Egad.

You know you're too warm when you find your glasses steaming up, but when you take them off to polish them you realise that you aren't actually wearing any.

We have just had an email around reminding us to turn printers off to help them cool down as they are over heating. What about the workers?

sizzle

Egad.

You know you're too warm when you find your glasses steaming up, but when you take them off to polish them you realise that you aren't actually wearing any.

We have just had an email around reminding us to turn printers off to help them cool down as they are over heating. What about the workers?

X-Files

Early indications are that the new X-Files movie is worth about 3.5 stars out of 10. The Times suggests that it is an average TV episode stretched to feature length; not earth-shatteringly bad, but not quite good enough to make you care about the story.

telemeister suggested something similar when he wrote it up the other day.

I think I may try to read another review before deciding whether to go and see it or whether to just wait for the DVD.

Besides, we haven't seen Dark Knight yet and everyone agrees about that, too. Just rather more positively, is all.

Poot. I had such high hopes.

X-Files

Early indications are that the new X-Files movie is worth about 3.5 stars out of 10. The Times suggests that it is an average TV episode stretched to feature length; not earth-shatteringly bad, but not quite good enough to make you care about the story.

telemeister suggested something similar when he wrote it up the other day.

I think I may try to read another review before deciding whether to go and see it or whether to just wait for the DVD.

Besides, we haven't seen Dark Knight yet and everyone agrees about that, too. Just rather more positively, is all.

Poot. I had such high hopes.

Let us never speak of it again...

Gentles, I return with a tale of woe that has picked up and sped along since about six this evening. Let me take you through this litany of misery in reverse order.

We have just returned from the weekly quiz in our local pub, The Griffin, having picked up a measly 13 points from a potential 30. Our arch rivals beat us by ten whole points. It was horrific, particularly as we changed one correct answer for a wrong one and discounted a couple that turned out to be correct. We would still not have won, but there may have been an honorable mention to be had.

We shall never speak of this again¹.

Moving back earlier into the evening, we switch from embarrassment to aggravation.

Intriguingly, I received a letter addressed to colonel_maxim, sent directly to this address. This is not and never has been his address, so I felt intrigued enough to do something I should never do under other circumstances and opened it. My intuition proved correct: the letter is from the Deposit Protection Agency (or whatever they are called) and deals with the return of our deposit from our time at The Athenaeum Club. The good news is, that despite the good Colonel's oft trumpeted assertion that we would never see a penny of it again and therefore there was no point in leaving the place clean and tidy, we are in fact, receiving the entire deposit plus interest.

The bad news is that I cannot sign the form. colonel_maxim seems to have been designated 'prime tenant' or whatever, and although there are fields for up to five tenants to put their bank details for return of the money, he has to sign it.

He is not only posted to Afghanistan for at least a year, but right now is not even there, being on holiday in Thailand and uncontactable. I shall, therefore have to spend a chunk of tomorrow on the phone to the agency to see if we can sort it without him.

I just know that it will not be simple.

Finally, we go back a couple of hours earlier again and here we meet the embarrassment. Oh Lordy, yes.

Leaving work just after six this evening, I availed myself of the facilities², before exiting the building. Fair enough and unremarkable, you may say and quite right too. Sadly, on the platform at Victoria, I realised that I had been standing there - how shall I put this - freer than I had supposed. Yes kids, your hero had forgotten to zip his flies.

Mortified.

I don't think anyone noticed and I managed discreetly to rectify the situation post-haste.

Of course, when I got home and got changed, I realised that a further set of buttons were undone, too. It is possible, though mercifully unlikely, that someone got to see rather more than is considered socially acceptable.

That's when I nearly fainted with embarrassment.

Oh dear.


¹Unless I can somehow turn it into a funny anecdote, at which point you will probably wish that we should never speak of it again.

²The little civil servants' room, blockhead!

Let us never speak of it again...

Gentles, I return with a tale of woe that has picked up and sped along since about six this evening. Let me take you through this litany of misery in reverse order.

We have just returned from the weekly quiz in our local pub, The Griffin, having picked up a measly 13 points from a potential 30. Our arch rivals beat us by ten whole points. It was horrific, particularly as we changed one correct answer for a wrong one and discounted a couple that turned out to be correct. We would still not have won, but there may have been an honorable mention to be had.

We shall never speak of this again¹.

Moving back earlier into the evening, we switch from embarrassment to aggravation.

Intriguingly, I received a letter addressed to colonel_maxim, sent directly to this address. This is not and never has been his address, so I felt intrigued enough to do something I should never do under other circumstances and opened it. My intuition proved correct: the letter is from the Deposit Protection Agency (or whatever they are called) and deals with the return of our deposit from our time at The Athenaeum Club. The good news is, that despite the good Colonel's oft trumpeted assertion that we would never see a penny of it again and therefore there was no point in leaving the place clean and tidy, we are in fact, receiving the entire deposit plus interest.

The bad news is that I cannot sign the form. colonel_maxim seems to have been designated 'prime tenant' or whatever, and although there are fields for up to five tenants to put their bank details for return of the money, he has to sign it.

He is not only posted to Afghanistan for at least a year, but right now is not even there, being on holiday in Thailand and uncontactable. I shall, therefore have to spend a chunk of tomorrow on the phone to the agency to see if we can sort it without him.

I just know that it will not be simple.

Finally, we go back a couple of hours earlier again and here we meet the embarrassment. Oh Lordy, yes.

Leaving work just after six this evening, I availed myself of the facilities², before exiting the building. Fair enough and unremarkable, you may say and quite right too. Sadly, on the platform at Victoria, I realised that I had been standing there - how shall I put this - freer than I had supposed. Yes kids, your hero had forgotten to zip his flies.

Mortified.

I don't think anyone noticed and I managed discreetly to rectify the situation post-haste.

Of course, when I got home and got changed, I realised that a further set of buttons were undone, too. It is possible, though mercifully unlikely, that someone got to see rather more than is considered socially acceptable.

That's when I nearly fainted with embarrassment.

Oh dear.


¹Unless I can somehow turn it into a funny anecdote, at which point you will probably wish that we should never speak of it again.

²The little civil servants' room, blockhead!