This week we've seen Channel 5 get tough on two celebrities, an American Jeremy Jackson and an old Corry star Ken Morley. You would of thought two people who were aware of stardom, cameras and the transience of celebrity status might of conducted themselves better. It was clear from the out start both individuals have issues. Jeremy just seems weird in many ways, like his personality never properly developed and somehow got altered and stuck. Probably from alcoholism or drugs. He used to play the child actor part of David Hasselhoff's son in Bay Watch. Which was a hell of a long time ago, when skimpily clad actors in their prime would run on sandy beaches to the delight of fantasising TV viewers. There were few people in those days who hadn't seen an episode of Bay Watch, it was designed to get the viewer hot under the collar. Unlike Corry which is a British institution in itself and half the population of the UK still watch. Myself I'm one of those who don't watch it, I never liked it and was forced to at a time when there was only one TV in the house and no such thing as the internet. I do remember Ken Morley though and the part he played. But I wouldn't say he was anything significant not in any sense of the word. Except now. Where both Jackson and Morley have become names in bad behaviour. Morley for his misogynistic and racist remarks and Jackson for thinking he can act in a very unchivalrously way peeking at Chloe Goodman's boob by opening up her dressing gown. The thing was there is something not right about Jackson and his behaviour, something not normal in many little ways. It was strange how Chloe began to seek excuses for Jackson later on. How she expressed herself in the diary room, like he couldn't help what he was doing because we all know he is someone with a lot of issues. BB wisely told her she was not to blame for the incident. She wasn't, but her excuse making made me think of how some women abused by their partners would make excuses for them. There was no excuse and part of me wonders whether it was a criminal act. There was no physical assault which took place but everything would be somewhere on a video tape I'm sure, even though BB did not screen the incident.
What I have learnt over these few days is how fragile and completely nuts some of these celebrities are, it is like they are children in many respects. They don't understand their behaviours and act in child like ways. Perhaps this is to do with the entire magnification of emotions and events when confined on a BB set. The forced 24 hour proximity with people and an inability to get away and have quiet time, constantly on show. Then again, more than anyone else these are people who will be prepared and understand how they are being judged by their actions. It's not like they are at home in a private place. On BB they signed a contract and will be expect a nice and very big pay cheque at the end of their time. If only we could all have a chance of earning such monies in a short period. Forget about the fame, I'll have the money though, mind I'd want people not to think of me in a bad way and would hope to conduct myself as close to civil as I could. Unless stuck in a confined space with a relative, at which I'd probably commit murder and be doing time. No amount of money would be enough then.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Tuesday, January 06, 2015
Kick the shit out of the machine
Fortunately having bad days isn't something which happens everyday because then they would not be unusual and with a lot of bad days you'd get used to them. Perhaps they wouldn't be recognised as bad days just ordinary days, or they could be given pet names. Like a animal, what a skunk day it has been, with a bit of relaxed wallaby. What does help coping with these sort of periods is when they happen after being on holiday, feeling relaxed even in a stressed environment is a valuable asset and thing to achieve. I will admit there are times when I may appear calm and pensive but on the inside of a still exterior is a crazed lunatic on the verge of attacking the next inanimate object which fails to work the way it should work. If not object bureaucratic processes, a pop group has an apt name it is Rage Against the Machine.
This morning I failed to scan my prepaid travel card before getting on the train. This I unfortunately only realised when I got off the train at the destination station. But at the back of my mind I thought what I would do is get on another train and go the opposite direction. Go back one station to the station where I know there is no automatic barriers on one side and then walk and get some exercise. Unfortunately this did not go to plan, because at the earlier station there were revenues officers. The result was being issued with a £20 penalty ticket. Great.
Getting into the Fish Factory a little later than normal I am confronted with a one hell of a stinky fish explosion which means I will be in the Fish operating theatre all day long, elbows right into the inners of some disgusting stuff. Wonderful. I am then called into a brief meeting to be advised one of the Fish on my team has to be seconded into another pool and this will be for several weeks. Their absence will in due course result in their work being distributed to the other 8 fishes who are always at pain to express how over stretched they are. Of course their not the only ones but don't take into account such constant groaning and griping doesn't help the situation.
I get to lunch later than normal and decide not to buy a coffee from my sanctuary pub because I now have to try and account for the lost £20. I'm advised by Sparkling that losing this is not the same as losing 20 pounds in weight as it is the first day of dieting. Which also has to be taken slowly but stressful situations sometimes require gentle love and kisses to ease them. My love and kisses was gained from a Chinese take away when I returned home.
Leaving work I was fortunately offered a lift in someone's car. Except I would have to walk to them to their car which was up a hill somewhere. I didn't mind because I was going to walk home and save on buying a train fare as well. The walk took nearly half an hour, there were two separate hills to climb and I could of walked half way home in the same time myself. The calculations of money saved and loss today goes like this: Loss £20 through penalty fare, loss £2.60 from getting a take away so total loss is £22.60. Gains are, £1.90 from not purchasing a return ticket, £1.90 for getting a penalty fair and not purchasing a destination ticket, £3.30 from not having a pint in the pub and £2.25 from not having a sanctuary like cup of coffee at lunch time, total gains £9.45 full loss and profit comes to £22.60 loss and £9.45 gain leaving a net loss of £13.15 on the day. A couple of more days of destitution and I should of paid the penalty fare off.
Well it's a good thing I got my sense of humour, warm socks and porrage for tomorrow's breakfast.
P.S. I got a tooth ache which has been really bothering me the last two days, estimated cost to be discovered. But the worse thing is I don't know whether my gentle and very nice dentist still works at the surgery or has retired, otherwise next time I go it could be butcher time.
This morning I failed to scan my prepaid travel card before getting on the train. This I unfortunately only realised when I got off the train at the destination station. But at the back of my mind I thought what I would do is get on another train and go the opposite direction. Go back one station to the station where I know there is no automatic barriers on one side and then walk and get some exercise. Unfortunately this did not go to plan, because at the earlier station there were revenues officers. The result was being issued with a £20 penalty ticket. Great.
Getting into the Fish Factory a little later than normal I am confronted with a one hell of a stinky fish explosion which means I will be in the Fish operating theatre all day long, elbows right into the inners of some disgusting stuff. Wonderful. I am then called into a brief meeting to be advised one of the Fish on my team has to be seconded into another pool and this will be for several weeks. Their absence will in due course result in their work being distributed to the other 8 fishes who are always at pain to express how over stretched they are. Of course their not the only ones but don't take into account such constant groaning and griping doesn't help the situation.
I get to lunch later than normal and decide not to buy a coffee from my sanctuary pub because I now have to try and account for the lost £20. I'm advised by Sparkling that losing this is not the same as losing 20 pounds in weight as it is the first day of dieting. Which also has to be taken slowly but stressful situations sometimes require gentle love and kisses to ease them. My love and kisses was gained from a Chinese take away when I returned home.
Leaving work I was fortunately offered a lift in someone's car. Except I would have to walk to them to their car which was up a hill somewhere. I didn't mind because I was going to walk home and save on buying a train fare as well. The walk took nearly half an hour, there were two separate hills to climb and I could of walked half way home in the same time myself. The calculations of money saved and loss today goes like this: Loss £20 through penalty fare, loss £2.60 from getting a take away so total loss is £22.60. Gains are, £1.90 from not purchasing a return ticket, £1.90 for getting a penalty fair and not purchasing a destination ticket, £3.30 from not having a pint in the pub and £2.25 from not having a sanctuary like cup of coffee at lunch time, total gains £9.45 full loss and profit comes to £22.60 loss and £9.45 gain leaving a net loss of £13.15 on the day. A couple of more days of destitution and I should of paid the penalty fare off.
Well it's a good thing I got my sense of humour, warm socks and porrage for tomorrow's breakfast.
P.S. I got a tooth ache which has been really bothering me the last two days, estimated cost to be discovered. But the worse thing is I don't know whether my gentle and very nice dentist still works at the surgery or has retired, otherwise next time I go it could be butcher time.
Sunday, January 04, 2015
Sparkling wears her ring
It is unusual but today a Sunday I returned from Scotland back to London and will go to work tomorrow, the first day of 2015 at work. It is not usual for me to return on Sunday's because I don't like to work a full first week at the Fish Factory. Working a part week helps me acclimatise and get back into the groove so to say. So next week is going to be tough going, if not for the work certainly for the realisation I need to do something about my eating and exercise habits for the new year as I've put on even more weight over the past chrimbo period. When I left Sparkling's house she requested I phone her up which I generally do anyway when I return to London but this she asked. It was a little unusual but I didn't think a great deal about it. Until it was I got off the last train, opened the door and had drank my first cup of tea with a piece of cake.
I rang but Sparkling was not at home. Leaving it for about thirty minutes I rang again. This time she answered. She asked if I missed her and I said I did, for when I get back to work and routine again I'll feel a little blue for sure. Sparkling then told me she had found her engagement ring which I had given to her some years ago. She put it on for the first time in years and it fitted perfectly, she had tried to send a photo of it on her finger to me but the picture message failed. Which admittedly was probably a good thing because I would likely have been quiet emotional over seeing it there. So during the phone conversation Sparkling told me she had put the ring back on. A moment passed and I got a little choked up. She laughed as usual. Sparkling said she liked the feel of it on her finger and the way it made her feel inside. I remember when we got it and looking in the jeweller's window. She picked the ring from a cluster of similar ones, but it was different. It sparkles just like Sparkling's eyes sparkle and I know is a beautiful sight. The thought makes me happy she feels she can wear it again and she feels good about wearing it. Because of course it will mean some day we will be married.
My Christmas has been very busy and a very happy one, I helped do the things a partner should do, but maybe I thinks more washing up than normal and I got a real taste of what Sparkling has to do all the time. Empty the cat's tray, throw the rubbish out, do the hoovering amongst other items. I'm getting well domesticated now. Oh how very happy I am, perhaps next week at work will not be so bad after all.
I rang but Sparkling was not at home. Leaving it for about thirty minutes I rang again. This time she answered. She asked if I missed her and I said I did, for when I get back to work and routine again I'll feel a little blue for sure. Sparkling then told me she had found her engagement ring which I had given to her some years ago. She put it on for the first time in years and it fitted perfectly, she had tried to send a photo of it on her finger to me but the picture message failed. Which admittedly was probably a good thing because I would likely have been quiet emotional over seeing it there. So during the phone conversation Sparkling told me she had put the ring back on. A moment passed and I got a little choked up. She laughed as usual. Sparkling said she liked the feel of it on her finger and the way it made her feel inside. I remember when we got it and looking in the jeweller's window. She picked the ring from a cluster of similar ones, but it was different. It sparkles just like Sparkling's eyes sparkle and I know is a beautiful sight. The thought makes me happy she feels she can wear it again and she feels good about wearing it. Because of course it will mean some day we will be married.
My Christmas has been very busy and a very happy one, I helped do the things a partner should do, but maybe I thinks more washing up than normal and I got a real taste of what Sparkling has to do all the time. Empty the cat's tray, throw the rubbish out, do the hoovering amongst other items. I'm getting well domesticated now. Oh how very happy I am, perhaps next week at work will not be so bad after all.
Friday, January 02, 2015
Chasing the Mow
You never really get to know what happiness a child brings until you are in their company and this is completely true with Princess J. Whilst her mum (Rock Chick) and dad (Dangerous sports lad) were to have a new year's party it was down to her nanny (Gaga) and grand-dad (pops) to look after her. So Princess J spent the hogmany and then most of the first day of 2015 with her Gaga and Pops (moi). Whilst Sparkling Eyes and I, also partied into the wee early hours of new years and hit the hay at 3 a.m. Princess J went to bed at 10 p.m. given good fortune she would have a long sleep and we would get up maybe 10 a.m. and be slightly worse for wear. Except as always there is a caveat and this unfortunately is all at the whim of Olly the cat. Which little Princess J refers to as the Mow. For some reason the Mow brings happiness and excitement to Princess J. For when he is about she has to play the hunting-for-the-mow game. The Princess is so alert to the Mow when she is in a deep, deep sleep if she hears him meow she will wake up, and stand in her cot saying in the cutest little voice "mow?" Her fixation with Olly is full and complete, she wants and loves him or just plain wants to pester him. It was at about 8 a.m. Olly decided it was appropriate to begin his alarm clock Sinatra, he wasn't particularly loud in his meow but it didn't matter it was enough to wake up Princess, and after about 4 to 5 hours of sleep Gaga and Pops learnt how to live with little sleep and how to run about like blue arsed flies keeping the little Princess happy.
Mow, mow, then Princess J points her petite index finger at the cat. Olly without any compunction of fear at this point continues with his little meows of attention even though deep in his heart there is a fear of being chased by small footsteps of excitement by the intrusion of a little person. It's not just the intrusion thing he gets unhappy about, it's a matter of affection. The excite loud screams of a little girl must be hitting a certain audible wave length and cause fear. That and the manic little running steps she has, it is his nightmare to be chased by Princess J, but he very well deserves it for all the many nights of meowing all kinds of hours and waking Sparkling up. Usually these will result in an elbow to my side as Sparkling says "cat" in her authoritative sergeant major like voice. Unless I am comatose it is always my turn to run about after him, get his biscuits, wet meat or open the door and watch him venture out into the dark deep wilderness of the back garden. He prefers good weather to bad weather as well. Yet with little exciteable Princess J here some of the personal waking up mid morning pain is taken away. Olly's daytime habit is to sleep on a bed and Princess J's day time habit is to play Chasing the Mow.
The purest form of excitement and happiness arises when Princess J find's the Mow. In excitement her finger and arm point at Olly, her voice goes up an octave, as it gets louder, then she does a Red-Indian (native American Indian) foot to foot running on the spot dance. She is like a mini volcano and jogs with intrepidation on the spot. This is very unlike the behaviour Rock Chick shows who learnt from a young age to completely ignore her pets because more important to Rock is sleep no cat or dog will get her attention. Princess J though is a different person altogether and she shows absolute commitment to chasing the mow. I help Princess J up on the bed where Olly might of been asleep. An evil subconscious laugh goes off in the back of my head, and a voice saying you little fury fiend, you've just met your match. The rest of your day is going to be in fear of the cutest little girl in the world, all because the Princess loves the Mow. LOL, yes I can hear my own evil laugh going off. It's pay back time for the 1 a.m. meow, the 2 a.m. meow the 3 a.m. meow. LOL. Princess J gets on the bed after assistance, I gently try to stroke Olly, but now the alarm bells have really gone off in his head, he stares at Princess and he knows her pats are not gentle strokes her excited scream is going to pierce his ear drum and decides he's not having any of it. He creeps away in full view sneakily as only cats can creep off in full view. Princess J, points again and shouts out Mow and starts to crawl in his direction. Olly is thinking "no way Jose" and he is off, under the bed away faster than a peep of gas escaping from an open lift following the escaping occupants who under held breath hope they can get far enough away for clean air. Olly has not choice but to seek salvation outside, in the garden, no matter what the weather he would rather be out there than inside being hunted.
We tended Princess J most of the day. The excitement of the cat, sleeping over at Gaga's and being given the opportunity of climbing, crawling and walking up stairs, because there are none at her gaff is overwhelming to her. I count stairs up and down, then I count more stairs up and down, this goes on for about twenty minutes at a time. After which her attention is taken to something else and Sparkling is on call for the next round. That night Gaga and Pops slept the sleep of a zombie apocalypse aftermath. Even a nuclear bomb wasn't going to wake us up. Lets also say Mow slept good as well as there was not a peep out of him till 8 a.m. just when we could of done with another game of Chasing the Mow, where's a little Princess when you need one?
Mow, mow, then Princess J points her petite index finger at the cat. Olly without any compunction of fear at this point continues with his little meows of attention even though deep in his heart there is a fear of being chased by small footsteps of excitement by the intrusion of a little person. It's not just the intrusion thing he gets unhappy about, it's a matter of affection. The excite loud screams of a little girl must be hitting a certain audible wave length and cause fear. That and the manic little running steps she has, it is his nightmare to be chased by Princess J, but he very well deserves it for all the many nights of meowing all kinds of hours and waking Sparkling up. Usually these will result in an elbow to my side as Sparkling says "cat" in her authoritative sergeant major like voice. Unless I am comatose it is always my turn to run about after him, get his biscuits, wet meat or open the door and watch him venture out into the dark deep wilderness of the back garden. He prefers good weather to bad weather as well. Yet with little exciteable Princess J here some of the personal waking up mid morning pain is taken away. Olly's daytime habit is to sleep on a bed and Princess J's day time habit is to play Chasing the Mow.
The purest form of excitement and happiness arises when Princess J find's the Mow. In excitement her finger and arm point at Olly, her voice goes up an octave, as it gets louder, then she does a Red-Indian (native American Indian) foot to foot running on the spot dance. She is like a mini volcano and jogs with intrepidation on the spot. This is very unlike the behaviour Rock Chick shows who learnt from a young age to completely ignore her pets because more important to Rock is sleep no cat or dog will get her attention. Princess J though is a different person altogether and she shows absolute commitment to chasing the mow. I help Princess J up on the bed where Olly might of been asleep. An evil subconscious laugh goes off in the back of my head, and a voice saying you little fury fiend, you've just met your match. The rest of your day is going to be in fear of the cutest little girl in the world, all because the Princess loves the Mow. LOL, yes I can hear my own evil laugh going off. It's pay back time for the 1 a.m. meow, the 2 a.m. meow the 3 a.m. meow. LOL. Princess J gets on the bed after assistance, I gently try to stroke Olly, but now the alarm bells have really gone off in his head, he stares at Princess and he knows her pats are not gentle strokes her excited scream is going to pierce his ear drum and decides he's not having any of it. He creeps away in full view sneakily as only cats can creep off in full view. Princess J, points again and shouts out Mow and starts to crawl in his direction. Olly is thinking "no way Jose" and he is off, under the bed away faster than a peep of gas escaping from an open lift following the escaping occupants who under held breath hope they can get far enough away for clean air. Olly has not choice but to seek salvation outside, in the garden, no matter what the weather he would rather be out there than inside being hunted.
We tended Princess J most of the day. The excitement of the cat, sleeping over at Gaga's and being given the opportunity of climbing, crawling and walking up stairs, because there are none at her gaff is overwhelming to her. I count stairs up and down, then I count more stairs up and down, this goes on for about twenty minutes at a time. After which her attention is taken to something else and Sparkling is on call for the next round. That night Gaga and Pops slept the sleep of a zombie apocalypse aftermath. Even a nuclear bomb wasn't going to wake us up. Lets also say Mow slept good as well as there was not a peep out of him till 8 a.m. just when we could of done with another game of Chasing the Mow, where's a little Princess when you need one?
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