At last it’s Tuesday and do you know what that means?

Erm…..

It’s Tuesday…..

Well that fell flat on its arse. After a brief spell working a lot at work (damn those fools, don’t they realise I’m the lord of Leisure and therefore my sheer presence alone should be enough for a high price salary, Aston Martin DB9 and all the funny tasting coffee I could muster?), I feel it necessary to brighten up your lives with tales of the expected.

You see over the past 48 hours, much has been progressing in the world. People are falling in love, one couple in particular are now engaged and congratulations to Glyn and Kelly, yes I have the Tesco Value Brand toaster on standby ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice, you are getting one and that’s final. Toasters alongside dinner plate sets and glasses are mandatory gifts you see, and I have always made it clear that I get “dibs” on the one that gives the happy couples the toaster. And take great joy as their happiness turns to fear, just in case anyone else has bought them one….

In the last 48 hours more progress has been made on plans for going out and about in November, and course paying for it. To that end to make sure I remain financially solvent, I will be spending most of November on call for work, ready to ask “Have you turned it off and on again?” at a moment’s notice, it has become clear that I must work excessively to clear most of the remaining debt that befalls me once more. Like an uncle who came to stay for Christmas and ends up staying till July, the stench of “not having a pot to p*ss in” lingers on. Some say it’s my own fault and I fully accept that.

You see, I did in fact buy that uber beast of a PC, which so far has managed to laugh at every game on the market with ease at the maximum settings for everything. Even the wonderfully beautiful “Crysis” game, of which the demo is now available to put your machine through its paces ran without a hitch with full everything. Truly, like the Bugatti Veyron that features on Top Gear every week it seems, it’s a wonderful piece of engineering.

But engineering costs and along with costs on the car as it begins to wear out under the sheer strain of my driving, I begin to wonder if I should have done it at all. But of course, one jaunt of TF2 and Bioshock later, and all I think of is “Yes Paul, you hunk of a man who is more deserving of everything in the world ever than Mother Teresa, you’re damn right to have done it.”

So to readdress the balance, I will be working extra. But that doesn’t mean I don’t make time for the fun side of Paul. Oh yes, he’s going to get some. And hopefully go out for fun too…

Wednesday brings a “supper” with spooky people, around a friend’s house who we thought had dropped off the map and gone to live in Poland selling Wood to otters.

But as it turns out, she was having a worse time than the world’s unluckiest person who happened to be condemned to a life on Eastenders while having their testicles ravaged by piranha. Appears an interesting tale is to unfold there, providing of course I don’t get lost on the way. The way I was first told to get there, was to go through someone’s house and then jump two fences so I don’t hold out much hope of actually getting there.

Friday brings around one of my friends from work’s leaving doo-hickey. And for the first time in what seems like centuries, I will be drinking, with not even having to worry about driving home. A nice hotel in Telford awaits me and I can take my leisurely time making my way back unlike the time when I went out in Weston-Super-Mare for something and ended up spending 3 hours weaving around on the M5 heading for what later panned out to be home and I thought I’d get to Alton Towers in no time.

The 14th of November, brings a day of play, with Will Mason, despite the fact the wrestling was missed, I shall be making it for his birthday during the day, and in the evening, A short jaunt to the NIA to see Amy Winehouse live. That is of course, unless she tops herself, in which case the tickets will be worth a small fortune according to a very reliable source. You know who you are.

The 17th of November brings an evening of delight with Glyn and Kelly, which after the news of their engagement, will at least provide a talking point there for 6 minutes.

The end of November brings another jolly in the form of an outing to see the Kaiser Chiefs at the NIA. And of course we all stop at George’s house for tea and crumpets. What a wizzo time we shall have.

So over the next few weeks you can expect an awful lot of writing here, though in drips and drabs because I may not even be here to write, as I defy death itself, laughing in its face as I get phoned up to clear a Terminal Service connection at 1am. Sweet.

The way I feel at the moment, I wish for a day I had no responsibilities, no one wanting my attention, and the only thing to worry about is whether or not I wear pants. The truth be told I still feel run down, having indeed spent a good deal of today for instance at Work diagnosing a server that didn’t want to come back from the dead without a fight. You could almost see the server turning green and then wanting to bite me…

But enough of Resident Evil references, I had enough of that third film the other week when it robbed my of time I will never get back and frankly the fact that I know another film for that pile of crap franchise is coming, the UN should get involved because surely to make people suffer through another 2 hours of that poo which isn’t even fit enough to come from a horse’s rear bumper, surely should be against the Geneva Convention…

And yet I know there are things to do. And I even went as far as being very very rude (and believe me that is being polite about what I did today) to Mum after she asked me yet again to take her to the airport and then one week later pick up both parents. My initial reaction was not designed to encourage further conversation. After all, I must confess the only thing that occurred to me was:

AGAIN?

In hind sight my reaction was over the top. I know only further retribution is to come from my “say what you feel like” policy. Problem is, at some point you do tend to break and then you actually say what you want without fear. And it always ends in tears. This all again stems to what I said on the “Testically Speaking” post, where if we actually act like who we really are, people don’t want to know you. I am guilty of that today and lord knows what awaits me next.

Surely things are not that bad? I just feel tired but I couldn’t get back to sleep today and that set me in a bad mood the rest of the day. I even missed a great evening with my good friend, Mr. Will Mason and Mr. Middleton due to work commitments. But the 14th November should give another opportunity to join forces with the Will. It appears that I was the one to deal with this particular issue. Guess it’s the price you pay for playing with a high profile system for too long. But actually a strange thing happened while there.

I became subdued and my old calm self. It was very bizzare, while working on this problem today on a craped out server at work, My mood changed to being happy. Now you should be thinking as would I, what a strange yet fantastic individual? Work is the last thing which should make me change from the incredible hulk back to the good doctor, but alas it just happened. As time went on, and I got closer to the answer, I became happy. And that is the state I find myself now. Tired but happy.

And yet I shouldn’t have got this way. And well I have been an asshole of late to family. That much is certain. Perhaps there is something wrong with me that I’m letting get on top of me and that is affecting me more than I thought. Whatever it is, clearly I have to do something about it. Perhaps a good holiday is in order to change the scenery and give my brain a rest.

But hey I must confess I did want to write something else today but this seemed a better thing to do to clear the air and hopefully I can do something about the “naughty” I have committed today. Numpty.

Well today has certainly been a mixed bag in terms of fun and frolics. I have been busy playing with things at work, reading on migration of Windows NT to 2003 and also have been called several times in regards to a major system being off which makes people jump. I’m half expecting to have to go in right now so I will keep today’s post ever so brief in bullet points:

The weekend, providing no call-outs from work, should bring some refreshing change: Watching men play “hit me with the chair” aka Wrestling in West Brom. I have never watched something like that in the real world so this will provide a new experience.

I am leaving it there as time is passing away and there are other things afoot this fine evening which require my attention elsewhere. Whatever you are doing, please make sure you are enjoying it. Or them!

Now tonight’s post is a rather unusual one in which I do ponder about one of the most fraught parts of life. Aside, from cleaning the car, deciding what pizza to eat when you have 17,000 varieties to choose from and wondering which hand to use to scratch your sizable arse.

Relationships and why we all lie in them.

Granted that in itself is enough to send people screaming to the hills you see, but the truth is, this time of year, judging by what most people have been saying and doing recently, it appears it’s a tough time for those in love. But why so many at the same time? Is it something to do with the weather? Granted it’s not been brilliant of late but then again this is Britain and therefore this is par the course. We are upset when it’s not raining so hard, you swear Noah’s ark is travelling down the dual carriageway.

I of course could be mistaken, you could be happily moving through life with the man / woman of your dreams and about to do real naughty with them that is illegal in some countries. And there are people out there that are.

But I welcome happy people into this little post simply because at some point, you are going to come to a point where someone gets annoyed about something very small and blame you for it.

The real realisations are when you almost end it. You actually say the words “We should split up.” There is a moment when both of you look into each other’s eyes and something breaks. It comes to the point where you either part your ways, find a different path, either staying as friends or in most cases, ending up leaving the other alone, perhaps resenting them because they hurt you. The other possibility is you get a true answer as to why things have gone the way they have. Only then do people say what is on their minds, when they are about to lose something they care about or have had enough and want to vent.

You may find out that they haven’t been happy in a long time and that they just haven’t brought themselves to go away from you because you’re the best of a crappy bunch. Or they let you into the mystery of why they act the way they do and sometimes that is even more scary. But more often than not it appears you are really defined in your early years, and what happens there seems to have a massive effect on you the rest of your life. And as I recall now, a lot of the time our previous experiences shape us and affect us even now, when we are “adults” and are meant to be bigger than that.

There is a lot that can be said about childhoods and how our families and first love bunnies ultimately are responsible for messing us up but that is for another time.

Back to the lying, It’s very strange I find that we all do this. We even hide what we think from our loved ones until it comes to the crunch. In fact a lot of things we hide from the real world simply because it’s not the best thing to do socially. I am just as guilty of this and frankly this blog still even now only skims the rim of the gaping black hold that really is the “Lord of Leisure.” If I were to really write what and who I am, I would lose my friends and my job. (The question of do we really know ourselves is again for another time.)

We all pretend to be other people in front of everyone and then in order to get together with someone, the number one tip people say is “be yourself.” But what the f**k does that mean any more? Does anyone truly know who they are and therefore what they are to other people? People are funny to be liked. Being liked is more important than being who you are and that gets extended into relationships, because we act a certain way to be “liked.” Of course, at some points, the cracks in the armour slip and then you get glimpses into what a person is like. But ultimately only when the cards are down instead of the trousers, do people say things.

Relationships are hard to keep going and only when the armour comes off, does it get interesting and dangerous.

Brain: …So that’s what we need to do.
Paul: Are you sure about that, it appears it will take longer than 5 minutes. You know me and attention spans, something that looks like it will be hard work, you know I will just give in at the first sign of trouble.
Brain: Trust me; it’s your way forward.
Paul: Is that like the “trust me” that landed me with 5000 tins of spam, because you were convinced the world was about to end and we needed food?
Brain: Ok, that didn’t work. But this one is good, there is a plan.
Paul: I love it when a plan comes together. Can I get away with not doing any of the work then?
Brain: No, dammit for the last time, you have to actually do something here.

So this was the conversation with my head the weekend about the evil plans that have been drawn and will be enacted out over the next few months. It suffered some setbacks in the creative process but as with all things, it’s a matter of time. And I need lots of practice in all honesty, it’s been a while since my last attempt at this wonderful feat of humanity, and frankly the first plan is to make a note of everything I know and have experienced. And yes, This cryptic message is more devious than a badly planned game of Sudoku.

And so on this day of Tues, we come back to the blog, all refreshed and revitalised, ready to give our all in the cause of truth, justice and the British way of life. Well some of us do anyway.

It was confirmed at 7:23 this morning that once again I have been struck with manflu, yes that dreaded of all diseases feared by men the world over, and the one time women finally get to say “Ha-ha, that’s just a wimpy cold. We are the superior race, bow and obey us.”

But as we all rightly know that’s just rubbish. Yes the cold may play a valuable part in this and indeed the main part of our symptoms, but alas I can at least reveal that a sore throat is approaching southbound on the Hughes expressway, and my energy levels are dropping fast, which means I am becoming even more leisurely than normal. A snail could out run me at this point.

And frankly it annoys more than anything, the very instant I need to get on and do things, the body automatically gives out on some flimsy excuse like a 3 year old child who just learned the gift of annoying you. “I need to go to the toilet!!” “I want ice cream” or the ever popular “I am more important than you so drop everything and pay attention to me or I’ll call Childline and say bad things about you.”

Your body is at its best when its at its worst. After all, you only pay attention after it starts going bad on you and the aches and pains come fast and furious telling you something is wrong. Then you actually find the time to spend with it, take it to the seaside, buy it some Lego and before you know it, it’s fast asleep all better allowing you to get back to doing the crossword.

That’s how my body is reacting right now. I had plans to go to the gym today and spend time fine tuning it by 0.000000000000001%, but after the way it’s treating me and what I want, it’s going the right way for a smacked bottom.

Perhaps the fact that I don’t sleep often enough (big surprise there I assure you all) that the body gets worn down and actually needs a time-out in order to recharge, center its chi, turn the lower intestine into a zen garden, and have Mr. Woo perform the dry cleaning on your various other organs, of which I will leave to your imagination.

The problem is, if in fact you allow the body to get the required 8 hours or so sleep it needs every day (others say less, other say more, but 8 is the average according to the Internet) you find that you have to give up other things during the week like a social life, you are in bed when the best TV programmes are on, and if you drive a good distance to and from work every day, you find that leaves next to no time for anything else other than Work and Sleep. If you have kids, well even then you have no time for anything as it is.

And where is the fun in that? Surely there must be a better way of handling this. Sacrifice sleep for fun, or spend 5 days a week going to bed early and then working and then coming home just to sleep? Somehow that doesn’t sit very well with this old human. So “naughty word here” to sleep, I’m wanting to go kill me some varmets! Though not right now, my body needs pampering. Waster….

Regretfully it has come to the point where I need to take some time away from writing this amazing piece of English literature called Ooh sometimes. I can see beads of sweat dripping down your brows, the worried looks of wonderment as to why I am running away from this digital modern look onto what life brings us these days, albeit in a strange manner.

It appears that every once in a while, a spark of genius catches light and therefore you become compelled to act upon it. And I am sorry to say, yes, a spark of genius has indeed been sparked in the space still left vacant by my departed brain, shortly after it decided it wanted to have a break from me, and we had grown apart. But today I received a phone call. I was flabbergasted to hear who it was.

Paul: Hello?
Brain: Remember me?
Paul: Oh my. Not after more money are we? Look after you spent it all in Monty Carlo (I’ll explain here for those not clued up, this is a cheap casino in Blackpool), I said that was the last time…
Brain: Sorry mate, but no, I am still rather flush. It’s not the reason I’m calling.
Paul: So what then? Are you getting married or something?
Brain: Again close but no cigar.
Paul: Ok, you’re confusing me.
Brain: That’s not hard. Come on; remember the time you forgot how to walk? I had to tell you for the longest time it was one foot then the other….
Paul: Well…..
Brain: No, I’m afraid it’s better than that.
Paul: Oh no, please don’t say that phrase.
Brain: What phrase?
Paul: You know. That phrase that fills people with dread, and I know no good will come from it.
Brain: Yep, it’s that one.
Paul: Bollocks. Are you 100% sure?
Brain: Sorry mate, but…..I’ve got an idea.
Paul: Does that mean I’m going to cry after it all falls apart?
Brain: Yep.
Paul: You’re not moving back in.
Brain: Bastard.

That could be a sitcom couldn’t it? Pauly and the Brain. One of them’s a genius, the other’s just stupid. Let’s all point and laugh!

And sometimes a man gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Except I really don’t have to. It’s just something I want to think about and give it a good think and plan before deciding whether or the little project is even worth pursuing. It’s not the web site btw, the Web Master Tebbutt will be in charge of that, when he of course takes up the charge with his busy schedule. Nah, it’s something which I just want to explore and see if it’s viable before committing a large amount of my time to it. Once again, you exclaim, Paul you saviour of mankind, you’re being cryptic again? I understand that your overwhelming thought patterns cannot be comprehended by us mere mortals and once again I feel like you should be showered with many fine virgins, but please! For once could you not write something which forces us to wait so you can tell us and it turns out to as exciting as a deflated balloon?

Well actually I am never going tell you until it’s finished. This is just investigation and if it sounds good, the next time you will hear about it, is when it’s done. So that means you will never hear about it again. How will that sit with you?

Look I am sorry to say, I will be back next week, once again writing on this fine piece of modern tech once again entertaining you and making you think that you need to get out more. I shall regail you with what has gone on in Birmingham this week while on training, the weekend’s fun which should be good besides my little time to myself and something else to moan about. Bet you can’t wait.

I write too much. This much is certain, it appears that according to some people I tend to chat with about how all things are a load of cock, that I have been writing too many words for blog posts these days and therefore maybe I should sprinkle some pictures in to break it all, so when we have the serious bit, there’s a picture of a cuddly dog for everyone to go arrrrrr over.

Well I hate dogs, so here’s the three pototoes:

Bet you wish you had these, don’t you?

Winning is not enough is the book by Jackie Stewart which documents how he won lots of things. And how he was highly successful at everything from talking about fast things going around like it was all just one big scalextric and then leading a big racing firm to do things which again involved driving around and around again.

And fair play to him. If someone can make a living out of something like that and be successful you cannot begrudge someone who does that. We may sneer and snip at it, but it is a talent never the less. He was in Birmingham today signing his book, I must admit I didn’t stick around for that after the training course I had today, he’s not someone I look up to or am interested in.

Of course one of the best sayings we plucky Brits have come up with in recent years is:

It’s not the winning that’s important. It’s the taking part that counts.

In this day and age where school sports have been reduced to the point where we all are winners despite taking three days to wobble 100 metres, it appears that we are all meant to say well done for practically anything. No-one is better than anyone else and that we are all equal in achievement. Well sorry dear people that is complete and utter balls. Some are successful because they are actually trying hard to achieve what they want. Others get what they want through no effort what so ever, and then that leaves the rest of us cursing the fact that other people have simply done what we all want to do but ultimately, cannot be arsed to do.

The only thing that is equal to all is death. Death doesn’t care what you have done in this world, whether you found the cure for cancer or a new recipe involving pot noodles, a Twix and wood chippings.

In the end, it takes you away without remorse or pity. It is the also the most unfair, yet fair system that the universe has. It’s unfair that they take away people who have yet to experience all that lfie has to throw at them, that they don’t have the chance to finish whatever they start or reach whatever potential they have.

And yet, it is the most fair thing to happen because there is no discrimination. We are all going to die sooner or later, it’s just a question of how and when. But we will keep clinging on for however long we can, because that’s the human will to survive, breed and make sure that the human race goes on.

That’s why people repeat the whole dating thing, getting married and getting the little bastards shitting on your car roof, because at the end of the day, it’s all in the genes and it kind of makes you think, is that the point of life? To simply make sure that you reproduce?

You start wondering about all the achievements people make, by they small or huge and wonder if it was all just to impress the opposite sex enough to do naughty often enough for the little tadpoles things inside Mr. Penis to storm the oval castle and take up residence in the unsuspecting woman’s stomach.

I know they do education about what’s going to happen, but to squeeze the resultant child thing from something that normally only is a inch or so wide I think most women really don’t to think about that sort of thing, and know that in the time of crisis, the drugs are their friends.

I suppose the upside of the children is that when you are old and the whole generations of family are dining out at a resonably priced resturant, you can just turn to you son/daughter and say “I just pissed myself, you need to change the bag before I empty it all over your dinner.” At least that’s my little slice of fried gold for when my system starts failing and I forget even more than I do now.

They hopefully would be there at the end when it’s getting either light or dark, whatever the hell goes on and the last noise they hear is a really long fart. Nice. If I’m going out, I want to have a smile on my face. But there in lies the issue.

Granted it maybe the natural thing in the genes again, but I am scared of dying. To the point of losing sleep at various nights and times. It’s the one thing that actually does keep me awake even when the body wants to conk out to regenerate and prepare for the next day’s slaughter, my mind won’t let it. It’s because there is a very very good chance that this life is it.

Nothing else lies beyond what we do now, so to disappear into nothing-ness, that to me, is truly terrifying. All our experiences, our dreams, our corrupted minds hell bent on world domination, it’s all gone. But what can I do? Nothing what so ever.

Unless I get to regenerate like Doctor Who. Anyone know the number for that plucky timelord?

I guess I just felt in a mood to write this sort of thing today. Having been falling asleep most of the day, I felt I needed waking up. This sort of thing does. Does it wake you up too?

And so ends the lesson for today.

And on other news, as you may have guessed, today is another Tandoori post where I waffle on for your dining and dancing pleasure. Don’t forget the buffet is now open and Happy Hour is from 8 to 9.

Now of course, Yesterday as I indicated in the last post was a bit of a strange day. Granted it appears every day is a strange day, but this was a different kind of strange-ness if that is a word.

For instance, I learned a great deal of new things that would be forgotten in the same manner that a goldfish would see some pebbles, go “Wow, some pebbles”, do a 360 in the bowl, and then go “Wow, some pebbles.” The information we were being fed was as meaningful as blunt force trauma, and yet by the end of the week, people will still expect you to a complete expert on the thing, being able to fix any problems like Superman. A bridge collapsing? Not a problem ma’am.

Last night, it appears I was the last hope for someone hopelessly bored in a hotel room, so he drove the 36 miles from his base of operations to the merry bastion of Oswestry where after just arriving from the fun of the day in Birmingham, I proceeded to give him some entertainment and then proceed to the local Indian place where they do arguably the best food in the country, you never go away from there empty stomached, empty hearted or feeling like you’ve walked away from a used car dealership with a second hand morris miner, only to find the tatty moustache salesman instantly closed the shop to head for Hawaii with £20,000 of money that used to be yours.

And this was still all going on late despite the fact that I had a mere 4 hours of sleep the night before. What a man, you must be thinking!

I could carry on about the silliness however those are the two important bits from Monday.

I regret to inform you all that after two days of next to no sleep, it appears my eyes are dragging on the floor, and all plans of being extra manly and going to the gym to work on those arms muscles to the point I can carry the shopping home in them are firmly out the window. Health, bar. I prefer to exercise my eyelids. Down….and up. Down…..and that’s it. What a workout.

I will explain all tomorrow as it has been an very very long day today and at 10:48 in the evening with another long day tomorrow, it’s more than likely for the best that I just say, yes good people I will be writing some more excellent material for you to gorge yourselves on like the rabid dogs you are.

OK, granted the quality may vary but I promise you, Monday despite the fact that I have been on Training again in Birmingham after driving part of the night Sunday and yet still awake now after only four hours sleep this morning, it’s been a memorable day indeed. Unless I forget, in which case it hasn’t.