Monday, January 30, 2006

All Alone



I thought I'd post the picture above to demonstrate exactly how lonely I am today. I'm afflicted by part-timers, holidaymakers and meeting-in-londoners. If you click on the pic, you'll note that there's about 300 miles between me and the next person. There's like, tumbleweed blowing around the office.

I'm so bored...

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Numpty, Act IV: This time they're out in force...

Today I shall tell you about my latest numptic incident. It's a doozie, it really is. But I should warn you that despite thinking that I was the biggest numpty in town, I found myself reliant on two, yes two, people that proved to have enough numptocity to go around an entire continent. Twice.

Important Note: Please do not continue if you are allergic to numpties in any way. Extreme numptiness follows. You have been warned. I am not responsible for any adverse reactions to the numptiness displayed in this post.

Now, then. Stead was dropping his girlfriend's car off at the garage for it's MOT and needed a lift the rest of the way into work. Being the nice guy that I am, I obliged and dropped him off at his office before parking in the underground car-park next door.

No numptiness so far.

Fast forward to 4.20pm. I'm meeting Stead in the lobby of his building. Both of us are looking foward to getting home nice and early. Down we go into the underground car park...

...only to find that the portable fan that I purchased to keep my car warm had been left switched on and plugged into the cigarette lighter all day. Well, as you can imagine, we were most impressed. But not overly concerned as we figured that we could just bump-start it and be on our way. So we tried.

Sadly we were unsuccessful. But Stead had a brainwave. Many of these places have a jump starter kit for just these circumstances. So off he jogged to the office to see if he could obtain it. And obtain it he did from the helpful gentleman manning the office.

But nothing's ever simple if it can possibly find a way not to be, is it? No, the immobiliser that had been fitted to my car in ages past had decided to reset itself, rendering the ignition of the car useless.

At this point it looked like we were going to have to call out the nice people at the AA, which would mean waiting around for a while. Now this was a concern as we had already paid for our parking on our return to the car-park and now had an invalid ticket. So we checked with the attendant who assured us that when the AA turned up he

would be more than happy to let us out with his override key and, if the AA arrived after the end of his shift at 6, the attendant who took up after him would do the same.

At this point, an issue around Stead's car arose, as such things are wont to do in times of crisis. The garage was closing at 5 and without a car available, we were unable to get there in time. So we rushed back to the office and had a quiet word with the nice receptionist who cadjoled a passing banker into driving us to the garage, which he very kindly did.

Splendid. Got car. Phoned the AA. 1 hour, tops. Will phone when he arrives. Super. Back to office. Coffee in the warm.

1 hour later...

...not a peep from the AA. So we phoned 'em back and queried it. The operator tried to call the 'mobile engineer', but couldn't raise him. So we decided to wander outside and see if he was just lost, or something. And there he was, sitting outside the office, presumably waiting for us to come and find him. Well, find him we did. Then he refused to drive into the underground car park because there was only 2.2 metres clearance and his van was 2 metres tall.

'It's a bit tight,' he said.

'You have 20 centimetres clearance,' we said.

'Yes,' he said. 'But it's a bit tight.'

'You have 20 centimetres clearance,' we said.

'Yes,' he said. 'But I had a mate who got stuck in an underground car-park once because there wan't enough clearance.'

'But you have 20 centimetres clearance,' we said, hoping that the old adage 'third time lucky' might apply in this situation.

'I'll just walk down there,' he said. 'Do you think I'll need my tools?'

'You just might,' we affirmed, desperate to get out of the cold.

So off we went to the car park, where my little car was sitting, forlorn and despondent.

Well, needless to say, after an hour of poking around, the AA man was unable (or, as I suspect, unwilling) to solve the immobilizer problem. This later turned out to be a good thing, as you will see. The decision was taken simply to tow me home. This involved a lot of umm-ing and ahh-ing about whether 20 centimeters was enough clearance and so-on. Eventually though, he conceded and brought his van down.

Now, it was past 6 at this point and our friendly car-park attandant had ended his shift, so I popped into the office to check in with the guy that had taken over. This man, it turned out, was the ultimate numpty. Forget me. Forget the AA man. This man took the grand prize. And this is why:

I went to the office and attempted to get his attention by knocking on the open door. No response. So I banged harder. No response. So I called out, 'Excuse me'. Still nothing. 'Helloooo,' I shouted. This prompted a surpised start from the man, who turned around looking bewildered and possibly slightly frightened. Clearly when he took the job he expected the role to consist exclusively of sitting in his chair watching crap telly all night.

I explained the situation to him, that we had returned to the car-park to find that the car had broken down and that we had been waiting for the AA to come and tow me out. Whilst our ticket had expired, the previous attendant had assured us that this was a common enough problem and that we would be let out with no problems.

'Ok,' said the new attendant.

'So,' I explained, 'When the AA van comes up to the exit, I'd be really grateful if you could just open the barrier for him and we'll be on our way.'

'Ok,' said the new attendant.

'Thanks for your help,' I said, then added a 'Mate,' on the end just to make him feel a little more at ease.

So, having been coupled to the AA van, with me providing steering and braking services from the comfort of my (now freezing) car, we approached the barrier. Which failed to open.

After waiting a few moments, the AA man tooted his horn, to no avail. Fortunately a second toot, a minute or so later, brought the attendant out of the office with sat same startled expression on his face.

'What do you want?' he asked the AA man.

'For you to let me out,' the AA man told him.

'Ain't you got a ticket?' asked the attendant.

'No," explained the AA man, 'This gentleman just cleared it with you.' and waved his hand in my direction.

Clearly confused, the attendant came over to the car. 'What's the problem?' he asked.

'We just talked about this," I said. "You were going to use your override to let us out.'

"Ain't you got a ticket?' he asked.

'Yes,' I growled through gritted teeth. 'But it expired at 4.30.'

'So how,' mused the attendant, 'are we going to sort this out?'

'Well,' said I, somehow resisting the urge to improve the gene pool by murdering him horribly, 'As we discussed not three minutes ago in your office, you were going to raise the barrier so we could get out. I cleared it with the guy who was on before you.'

'Nobody said anything about it to me' complained the attendant.

'Look,' I reasoned, 'If you just open the barrier and let us through, we'll be out of your hair in no time. And I'd be very grateful.'

Grumbling, the attendant slouched back to the barrier and produced a card.

'Here, that is going to let both of us through, isn't it?' asked the AA man, who had clearly had experience of such things.

'Yes,' the attendant assured him. And, inserting the card, the barrier was raised. We pulled forward...

...only to have the barrier come crashing down onto the roof of my car.

'Hmmm,' The attendant ruminated for a moment. 'That's what happens when you try to get 2 cars through the gate.'

Fortunately, no damage had been sustained, so we went on our way without the requirement to commit homicide. And equally fortunately, it turned out that one of the other immobiliser keys I had at home was a master key with which I was able to start the car, once it had some charge in it. Yay.

So, rather than a nice quick trip home, allowing me to have an enjoyable and, more importantly, lengthy evening, it was about quarter to 8 before I got home. Still... to make up for it, I went for a curry, which was nice...

My Starving Cat

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of a visit from my dear mother. Now, as her cat is poorly and on a special diet, she decided to bring Rochester two surplus bags of cat bicuits, the kind that's a complete cat food in easy-to-crunch, fish shaped bits.

Rochester is used to dried complete food like this as his normal diet consists of one of the more expensive brands of biscuits.

I was away for a couple of days last week, and rather than have someone look in on the Roach, I simply put down enough dried cat food to last him for the two nights I was away. There was plenty there - it was up to him if he decided to scoff the lot in the first five minutes.

Upon my return, Rochester was extraordinarily pleased to see me. Not content to simply head-butt me or drool pathetically on my lap in his usual manner, he actually tried to climb my leg.

'Hmm,' I thought to myself. 'Perhaps I didn't leave him enough food after all. Maybe he's really hungry.'

So I went to his bowl to check.

Well in the three days and two nights that I was away, he had eaten the sum total of 4 biscuits. These biscuits are obviously so foul that even when there is no other option, Rochester refused to eat them.

'Well, Rochester,' I mused. 'We have a bit of a problem here. We have to get through two big bags of this stuff before I get any more food for you. I suggest you get on with it.'

And I left it at that.

Anyway, over the last few days we have been engaged in a battle of wills. Every time Rochester goes over to the bowl to grudgingly eat like, one biscuit at a time, he looks over his shoulder at me with a disgusted expression on his face.

In fact, I drew a picture of it for y'all:



He kinda won in the end. I went to Sainsbury's this afternoon to get some stuff and picked up a few sachets of lovely, moist, fishy chunks in jelly.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Bloody Trees

I read this article on the BBC Website ages ago. Turns out that all those trees that we're busily replanting to counter deforestation are trying to kill us!

Plants revealed as methane source

Scientists in Germany have discovered that ordinary plants produce significant amounts of methane, a powerful greenhouse gas which helps trap the sun's energy in the atmosphere.

The findings, reported in the journal Nature, have been described as "startling", and may force a rethink of the role played by forests in holding back the pace of global warming.

Dr Keller said: "We know that when deforestation takes place we liberate large quantities of carbon dioxide, and indeed methane, into the atmosphere. We may be replacing that forest with vegetation which produces more methane.
Bit of a worry, huh? Later in the article, it says that the buggers are responsible for up to 30% of the world's methane emissions (the other 70% being mostly by me after a good curry).

Obviously though, we shouldn't get too upset by this, as the BBC points out in it's oh-so scientific conclusion:

"In fact, of course, trees are neither good nor bad."
So that's alright then.

On the plus side, our clever scientist friends are looking into ways to reduce the methane emissions of ruminants and the Oligosaccharide levels in various edible seeds of plants of the family Leguminosae ... or in english, make cows fart less and remove the pongy bit of bean-related farts.

We live in amazing times.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Driving to work

It seems I have been extremely lax in posting over the last few weeks. In order to address this, I present a rant about the man with whom I car share. This rant originally appeared on the Jammie Dodger Bored Board. Enjoy:

I car-share with one of my workmates a few days a week. His driving is making me insane. He drives at 30 in 40 zones and 50 in 70 zones. He brakes waaaaaaaaaay too early at junctions, so we crawl up to them, he slows down to a crawl on the approach to green traffic lights just in case they change, stops at roundabouts regardless of whether or not there's anything on or approaching them and grunts or groans every time the car goes over a slight bump or goes round a tight bend.

He's convinced that every single oncoming vehicle is using their main beam, even though they're obviously not and refuses to use his own on empty stretches of unlit road because he'll 'only have to switch it off when something comes the other way', which in turn means he has to drive much slower because he can't see the bends coming up.

Worst of all, he shouts 'WOAHHHH!' every time somebody makes what he considers to be a dangerous manouever. These include (but are not limited to) overtaking, doing 70 on the motorway (or generally driving faster then him - this includes just about everybody), merging with his lane ahead of him, being in the lane next to him at a roundabout, braking ahead of him for any reason, pulling away promptly at traffic lights or not approaching green traffic lights at a crawl just in case they change.

He's also utterly uncapable of parking his Vauxhall Safira and is convinced that his car is the height of automotive desirability.

I should add that as a father of two, he subjects me to in-depth breakdowns of exactly what his sons did in the previous 24 hours every morning. Not quite to the point of telling me how many beans they had on their toast and what time they went to the loo, but almost...

The average journey goes something like this:

"Mornin'"
"Allo, mate. I had a really busy evening last night."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, Gareth had his after-school class last night and... ooof.... I ....oof... had to go and collect him. His.... WOAHHHHHHH!... tie wasn't done up properly and his shirt was ... ooof... slightly untucked."
"Wh..."
"Anyway he got in the car and ... Lordy, turn your main beam off... WOAHHHHH ... got into the car and we drove home and he told me about his class. Do you know he wrote three pages. I'm so proud of him. Then I made him his ... WOAHHHHHHH... He could have caused an accident - those lights could have changed at any time... I made him his tea, which was sausages and mash - I used four potatoes and his third sausage was slightly overdone."
"I..."
"What was I saying? Oh Yeah. So I had to drive him to his judo class. It's only a hundred yards away, but... oof... I don't like him being out on his own in the ... WOAHHHHHH... in the dark, even though he's 15..."

And so-on...

That's it. I'm all ranted out, now. You can go about your business...