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Now I'm outside and the fresh air has hit me I'm starting to think I might be pissed!

Have been drinking all night and am not drunk!

Full of chinese food... Time to start drinking!

Well we're on the mini-bus. Ferial, Donna, Kerry, Leanne, Karen, Julia, Jackie, Brad and me! A proper girls night out!

Just a quickie before we go...

Car failed it's MoT test!

Something about bald tyres and a bulb not working...

Got it fixed...

Car now passed!

Right... lift is here...

TTFN x

Good people of Blogland I bring you a warning!

I am drinking tonight.

Usually this would not be a problem but I will have my phone with me.

I will be blogging, texting and calling people.

If I have your number then...

A. Turn off you phone.
B. I'm really sorry!

You have been warned!

What a bloody week!

Monday
- Driving suspension

Tuesday
- Foster child rushed into hospital – Spend all day at the hospital waiting to see what’s happening.

Wednesday
- Get told car tax is out on Saturday… MoT Certificate ends on Friday!
- Eczemas flares up! Fingers crack and swell!
- Rush to hospital after work only to find out he’s not allowed home!

Thursday
- Rush to hospital after work. Spend all day waiting to find out if he can come home for them to finally make the decision at 5pm.
- Made to feel guilty for leaving by the social worker – but in a good way.
- Sit at home and start to feel ill.

Friday
- Over sleep but make it to work on time.
- Have to listen to three people and their tales of woe and try to pick out the good points and make them feel better but realise they aren’t actually listening!

So, a week filled with good and bad. All I need now, to balance things out, is for my car to fail its MoT test but to have a good night out in Swansea.

I am going to get absolutely hammered! So that’ll be me lying in corner, dribbling to myself from around 8pm onwards!

A little while ago I spoke to that Zeds fella.

He asked me to take part in the parachute jump he was doing to raise money for Amy.

For a couple of reasons, mainly because I'm about 18stone too heavy for a parachute, I had to say no.

I'm being completely honest when I say I was gutted that I could take part.

Yes, I sponsored Zeds but I wanted to do more.

I thought about what I could do and of all the ideas I've had this is going to be the first.

So...

On July 21st I will be doing another blogathon. This is not in-conjunction with the people who organised it before, this is going to be all on my own.

I'll start at 2pm on Saturday 21st July and finish at 2pm on Sunday 22nd July, doing a blog entry every 30 minutes on a new blog I've just set up called "Blogging For Amy" - you can find it here.

I'm also going to use that blog for any other fund raising things I do for Amy.

If you wish to donate there is a button there where you can donate using paypal but soon enough there will also be an email link on their for details of where you can send money etc.

There are two things I'm going to beg you, the reader, to do now.

No.1. Sponsor me. Any amount is helpful. Details of how to donate, sponsor etc, will be on the Blogging For Amy blog.

No.2. Tell people what I'm doing. Promote the Blogging for Amy blog, do not promote this one. Stick it on your blog, in your emails, tell people at work, tell you friends, tell you family. Tell EVERYONE!

I know it's not a parachute jump but I'm trying! Hopefully, when I'm thing and gorgeous, I'll be able to throw myself out of a plane with a big man strapped to my back! Until then...

I’m in a really strange mood today.

I’m actually feeling physically strange as well. My eyes feel a bit… erm… buggy! Heavy and tired. Do you know what I mean? I also feel like I want to throw up.

And I’m also feeling a little moody.

I just want to go to bed.

But… I don’t want to go to be either.

Got to dash to the hospital after work…in ten minutes… and see if the foster child can come out yet. Hopefully he can.

My eczema is starting to flare up on my hands! Can you see? I doubt it. Bad picture.

Oh God, what is wrong with me!!!!!

H A P P Y
B I R TH D A Y
I D O N T K N O W W H Y

x

Copy these questions, post your answers in your blog and tag five more people.

1. When in doubt ... Take the M4.

2. The most Tagalicious blogger is ... ME!

3. Given half a chance, I would ... be looking for the other half!

4. I'd rather be ... in Ireland.

5. Who knew that ... well everyone it would appear...

Right, tagging...

I tag... Brad, LyndLJ, BoredRich, Maddogs and FlickFlack

I will be! I hope!

What a fucking week so far…

Yesterday our foster child got rushed into hospital in an ambulance. We headed over as soon as we found out.

He was in A&E and had pain in his kidneys. He looked like shit and was in obvious agony. My first thought, after seeing him and talking to him, was appendix. The doctor came in, ordered blood tests and x-rays and a urine test. The blood and x-rays were clear but his urine has blood in it.

The doc thought it was an infection and ordered an ultra sound, which the lad had this morning. Nothing showed up and now he has been referred to another set of consultants as he’s still in pain. I don’t think he’ll be coming home today.

Yesterday Brad rang his mom and virtually had to beg her to come and see him. She finally arrived around 3pm and stayed all of 15 minutes.

Nice!

Name 15 people in your family (still alive)
One by one? No! Trust me, it’s more than 15!
And I bet they can all still fucking drive!

Name 14 movies you like
Driving Miss Daisy, The Car that Ate Paris, Speeding, The Fast and the Furious, Cars, Driving Lessons, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, Herbie Goes Bananas, Confessions of a Driving Instructor, The Devil is Driving, Old Men in New Cars, Donald’s Tire Trouble, The Speeding Ticket, 2 Fast 2 Furious.

Name 13 things you like to do
Drive, Change gear, Accelerate, Look in my mirrors, open the car window, close the car window, listen to the radio in the car, smoke in the car, have sex in the car, play the ipod in the car, talk to Brad in the car, transport my friends in my car, visit places in my car.

Name 12 artist/bands you like
The Cars, Clio, Willa Ford, Left Front Tire, Clio Lane, Vauxhall Pleasure, The Beetles, Irish Rover and The Crew, Toyota, Malthilde Renault, Josef Lada, Granada Hills.

Name 11 friends
I have more than 11… all of whom have a current license!

Name 10 songs you like
NO!

Name 9 animals you like
There are more than 9.

Name 8 things you've done this month
1. Got banned from driving.
2. Got banned from driving.
3. Got banned from driving.
4. Got banned from driving.
5. Got banned from driving.
6. Got banned from driving.
7. Got banned from driving.
8. Got banned from driving.

Name 7 shows you like
Top Gear, That Motor Show, What Car?, Fifth Gear, Top Cars, Starz Carz, Pimp My Ride

Name 6 ice cream flavours you like
I like all flavours… especially ones you can eat in cars!

Name 5 names you like
Rover, Ford, Toyota, Lamborgini, Mercedes.

Name 4 foods you like
Drive through McDonalds, Drive through KFC, Drive through Burger Kind, Drive through Wimpy.

Name 3 of your favourite colours
Racing Green
Ferrari Red
Ford Black

Name your 2 best friends
My car and my license.

Name your ..1 lover/crush/girlfriend/wife/husband
My license.

Copy and paste, then delete my answers and put your own.

Oh Fuck!

Brad passed his driving test a while ago and is only just getting round to sorting his full license out.

I lost the paper part of my licence ages ago so while Brad was sorting his out I thought I’d call and get my done.

“Erm… your licence has been suspended!” said the man on the phone.
“WHAT?!” I said.
“Yes. It’s in our system as an inactive license. Hang on I’ll put through to someone who can help.”

So I wait.

“Right sir did you know your license if suspended.”
“No.”
“Have you been driving?”
“Yes.”
“Right, you need to stop now.”
“Okay, but how has this happened?”
“You were fined for speeding over a year ago and asked to surrender your license which you didn’t do.”
“I didn’t know about it!”
“Well we sent you a letter.”
“I never got it!” I said, rather nervous.
“We sent you three!”
“I never got any of them!”
“In that case you need to talk to your post office and you need to bring a D1 form into us.”
“When I can drive again?”
“When you get your new license!”
“How long will that be?”
“About three weeks but quicker if you bring it in to us.”

After more explanations and talking the basic outline is that I’ve not been allowed to drive since April and won’t be able to drive again until I get my new license.

Brads car is off the road and he is not insured on my car. Bus home I think!

FUCK!

The Most Outrageous Numpty - this person has had one or more outrageous numpty moment(s) that makes you go "well I never or can you believe that?"

The Best Numpty Moment - this person's numpty moment(s) causes you to laugh out loud.

Thank you to everyone that voted for me and thank you to Meno for the awards!

Congrats to all the other winners!

I WON!

28713 is my highest score...

http://www.shell.com/home/PlainPageServlet?FC=/aboutshell-en/html/iwgen/shell_real/challenges/app_challenges.html

957.something other is my highest... which is crap!

http://www.shell.com/home/PlainPageServlet?FC=/aboutshell-en/html/iwgen/shell_real/challenges/app_challenges.html

http://www.engadget.com/2007/06/25/leopards-development-roadmap-outed/

There's a picture of me on this website!

http://www.chrisgeary.com/

How very interesting...

For me anyway!

I really can’t be arsed writing a huge long entry about the fantastic weekend we had.

Was bloody brilliant to see Rach and Dale after so long.

So here is a basic account of the weekend…

Friday
- Packing boxes bought
- Rach & Dale arrived
- Foster kid arrived and promptly got sent back as he wasn’t book in.
- Drinkies in the Orange House, Swansea.
- Signing all night as were mainly with deaf people.
- Nearly got beaten up by a gorgeous drunk bloke and was rescued by Berni.
- Rach got very pissed and fell asleep in the car, did a huge fart and we thought she’d shit herself! – Quite literally!

Saturday
- Took foster kid to open day at college!
- Did some more shopping for packing stuff… markers pens, labels, and brown tape.
- Met up with Rach & Dale.
- Went to Aberdulais Falls – Was very lovely
- Sat outside in the tearoom in the glorious sun drinking coffee and cream teas.
- Once home had a BBQ.
- Sat in the lounge getting drunk on wine and talking about the olden days!

Sunday
- Lunch at the Raven
- Shrek the Third at the cinema
- Hopi Ear Treatment for Rach & Dale
- Relaxing night on the settee

There you go.

I've visited the counties in yellow. Which counties have you visited? made by marnanel map reproduced from Ordnance Survey map data by permission of the Ordnance Survey. © Crown copyright 2001.

I'm sat outside the Angel in Neath and I'm drinking an Apple and Melon J2O. I've never had a J2O before. Very nice!

I had an argument with an old man this morning over my tie!

I’d forgotten my office key so was stood outside waiting for someone to arrive when the old man passed.

“Nice tie,” he said.
“Thank you. My boss bought it!”
“Oh,” he replied, “you should tie it in a full Windsor though not a half Windsor.”
“It is a full Windsor!” I replied.
“That’s not a full Windsor. I used to be a tailor son I know how to tie ties!”
“I promise you it’s a full Windsor!”
“Whatever you say son,” he said as he walked off!

No.1. I’m not your fucking son you old fart!
No.2. I used to work in a fucking tailors and know about six different ways to tie a fucking tie!

Fucking moron!

I usually love old people but this miserable fucker was just crying our for my size 11 to be shoved up his backside as I kicked him to the road to be hit by a passing truck!

Annoying fucker!

We left our house around 5pm last night to go and meet Jon. Pulling up outside his house we beeped the horn but he never came out. With the rain coming down Brad decided to ring him rather than get out the car.

“Dena’s gone to get the kids so we’ll have to wait for her to come back. She’ll only be a few minutes,” he said.
“Okay, no worries. We’ll be sat in the car,” replied Brad.

After he’d hung up we tried to work out why he couldn’t leave the house but we never did.

Finally Dena arrived back and Jon came out and got in his van.

Following us to Ferial's mothers house he pulled up outside and reversed back to the front door.

Our first problem was getting the piano into the hallway. In the end we had to lift it up and put it on one end and shuffle it through into the hall. From there we dropped it down and wheeled it to the front door.

At the front door we had to lift it over the step. Jon and Brad were at one end, outside, with me and Roy inside at the other end.

“1… 2… 3… Lift!” said Jon, “come on, push it!”

There was a collective sigh as we put it down from everyone… apart from me!

I couldn’t sigh. I couldn’t make a sound.

“What’s wrong with Rob?” said Ferial
“Eh?” said Roy.
“Well look at his face! Rob why are you pulling those faces?”

At this point my mouth was open but I couldn’t make a sound. I tried but couldn’t actually make any noise.

“Oh my God!” cried Ferial. Then she started yelling something in Welsh but soon realised no one else could understand her.

“His arm is trapped!” she said, “Is your arm trapped Rob?”

I nod furiously and finally the lift the piano is lifted away from the doorframe and I can free my arm.

The four of us struggle and get the piano into the van and the head back to our house.

Getting it from the van into our house proved just as difficult but we finally got it in and it now sits proudly in my lounge.

Of course this morning I can’t move my arm very much. There is no bruising and I’m not worried, I just have very little movement in it. Driving was fun!

SO now I’m sat at work, planning course to finish just before we leave, listening to my boss talk about what her son gets up to in the bedroom on his own and listening to a volunteer telling us that children should not be the product of sex. I can’t quite work out how else we’re going to get them but I’m sure she has a point.

This has just arrived in our inbox and now I'm all filled with tears. Makes me realise I have more to miss than I thought I did!

From: MMS Social Worker
Date: 20-Jun-2007 13:25
Subject: Big Thank You
To: Paddy & Brad
Cc: PMD Social Worker

Hi Paddy and Brad

I spoke with Pat on Monday and she informed me that you were going to leave for Ireland.

To say I was floored was an understatement as I had the impression you were both here to stay. I would like to personally thank you for the support you have given to the young people I work with over the last couple if years, very often at the last minute and done with the minimum of fuss. I do not know what I am going to do. I can only say that whenever I have mentioned your name everyone has nothing but respect for the quality of your work. If you take nothing else with you can be assured you will be sadly missed by everyone who came in contact with you both.

The important thing for me is that you have made a very positive and lasting contribution in many areas to the young people you have cared for. You both will be sadly missed by the young people you have worked with and supported over the last few years. The confidence and trust young people and their families have in you cannot be understated. It is a priceless gift you have amongst many other attributes whilst working with young people who have complex social and individual needs.

I can only wish you the very best for the future and hope that you have a healthy and happy life.

I will give you a ring towards the end of the week.

Kindest regards

MMS

Well we arrived on time for our sign language assessment, which makes a change for us.

Sitting in the room with the other students, waiting to be called in, we all quickly flicked through our folders trying to find words we might have forgotten and rehearsing our speeches.

As each student left the room one by one at ten minute intervals it was like watching them walk off to the gallows! They left room and never returned.

Finally it came to my turn. Giving Brad a "I-can't-fucking-do-this!" grin I was lead down to the waiting room. There, on the board, were three subjects. Berni, our sign language teacher, signed that I had to choose one of the subjects to sign about. I had about ten minutes to be alone and rehearse my chosen subject. She would then come and get me and take me to the assessment room and the torment would really being. She reminded me that I had to sign my full name when she asked for it and to interrupt her at some point and say I didn't understand, even if I did, as it was one of the competencies during the exam. She also reminded me to make sure it was a conversation and to ask her questions now and then. Finishing all that she left.

Those ten minutes were actually only about five but it felt like an hour. I looked at the subjects I could choose from.

- Getting to work.
- People I know.
- My work.

So, getting to work... how easy would that one be? Well very but could I keep a conversation going for five minutes? No. I get in my car and drive seven miles. It takes me 15 minutes in rush hour. All that can be said in six signs!

Looking at the subject of "People I Know" I thought about it and decided this was a crap subject. I know my partner, my mother, my father, my brothers, my myriad of friends on and off the internet. All I'd be doing is naming them and describing them. Not only boring but too repetitive and simple.

Okay, "My Work" it is. Of course the truth is that about four weeks ago she told us what the subjects might be and work was one of them so Brad and I have been practising that one for weeks now so it was the obvious choice.

Finally Berni arrived back with Brad following her. As I stood in the door way she explained to Brad what he had to do, the same way she had to me five minutes earlier, then she took me into the assessment room.

Sally was sat filming us so an independent assessor can see us sign and there was a woman there as well, monitoring that we didn't cheat. This woman cannot sign and is capable of keeping one eye on the door and one eye on us at all times.

I sit down and Berni asks me what I think about todays weather. I tell her it's been raining a bit but still sunny and warm. We had a small conversation about the weather we liked and disliked and then she asked me my name. This was the obvious start of the exam. I asked her what her name was, even though I knew it, and then signed it back to her and then she asked me if I'd been at work today. So off I go, talking about work. I break into my rehearsed speech about what I do when she stops me and then asks me what my chosen subject was. This was the start of the exam!

So once again I start talking about work, what I do, where and who for and arrival times, break times and lunch etc. I ask her where she works and she starts to finger spell the answer.

"T...... E....." she starts.
"Ah, teaching!" I thought! Yes, it might sound obvious that that's her job but she changes details to test us. I just took it that she had stuck with teaching as this was our final exam. All that thought took place in milliseconds because my next was "Oh fuck! She's not finger spelling teaching!"
"C..... O......" she finished and then smiled at me.

I was lost. What were the fucking letters in between. Where does an O come into teaching? Shit! Shit! Shit!

Then it hits me! This is my chance to ask her to repeat herself. So she does and this time I watch her fingers intently like they were all the mattered in the world.

"T..... E..... S..... C..... O....."

One fucking letter! That's all I'd missed! I grinned as she said it because in my head I was thinking "You don't work work at Tesco!"

I asked her if she enjoyed but she said no, then I asked her what time her lunch break was and what she had for lunch.

"An apple," she signed, "and salad and sometimes I'll have an orange as well."
"I don't like oranges," I signed, "I'm allergic to them!"

And that was it. That one sentence made up of three signs was my downfall! For the rest of my time, which seemed to last for half an hour I did nothing but talk about how I was allergic to oranges! I was supposed to be talking work but no, I talked about how oranges made me ill. Anything citrus. Not work, not people I know and not even travelling to work! Oranges!

Fuck!

Once everyone was done we all headed off to the rugby club for a drink to wait for Berni to finish with her other students and then we all headed off for a vile meal in a lovely pub. Rare steak with no blood (sorry veggies) followed by Kwik Saves own brand cheese cake made from cardboard and strawberry jam.

After the meal we sat in the bar and signed about phobias and started telling jokes.

As the night ended we offered Neil and Ellen a lift home. Now Neil is okay. A good bloke with a sense of humour and someone who is willing to get a sign wrong to show he's at least trying to sign, unlike me who'll happily sign away with all the wrong signs and hope someone understands me.

Ellen is boring.

Ellen is more than boring.

She made me want to take my shoe off and hit her with it. When it came to the jokes she stumbeled through, at least trying, but not only were they not funny, she then proceeded to tell them again... in case anyone didn't hear her or understand the signs. Now, I'm not exaggerating anything here. She quite literally made a point of telling the joke twice and it still wasn't funny! At deaf club one night, while talking about pets, Brad told a story about our cats, I told one about our dogs and Ellen said "My dog sat at the back door and looked at me!" Oooooooh the wonder of an Ellen story!

As Ellen got out the car she said "well I don't know how I'm going to get there on Friday night!" - we're all going into Swansea for a night oot! Not thinking she was going I'd already offered Neil a lift and with Rach and Dale in the car as well there won't be room for her. I don't feel guilty in the slightest. I did... just a little bit... until she then repeated that she didn't know how she was going to get there... and then talked about how her mother and father and sister would not come into Swansea to get her... and how she didn't know how she was going to get there... and how she wasn't sure if she could make.... and how she didn't know how she was going to get.... and how she wasn't sure if she could go because she wasn't sure how she was going to get there!

Shut the fuck up! I get the point! You want a lift! Tough shit! My car is now full!

Gah!

All in all it was a very enjoyable night, if not a little stressful.

Okay suddenly I'm really nervous... Our FINAL sign language assessment is in one hour! Up until now I felt really confident. Now I'm shitting myself! Double layer under crackers time I think! I have this horrible feeling I will fail or really fuck up!

How fucking hard is it to book four ferry journeys!

The phone is constantly telling me they are having a high call volume today!

I can't book online because a 7.5tonne truck for personal use is still classed as freight and it's a different booking system! But I can't book it because I'm not a limited company.

FUCK FUCK FUCK!

Menomama came up with this great idea and now we need to vote. Don't know what I'm talking about then clicky clicky and go read all about it and all the entries. I had a go, I'll admit I'm a numpty, so many others have had a go, far more numptier than me!

Voting only has a few days left so com bloggers!

Download this form to vote!

So as some of you know we're moving.

So here's the details for those of you that don't know and now I can blog about it publically and fully!

On September 14th 2007 Brad and I are moving to Galway, Ireland.

Thirteen Weeks and four days to go!

Time to start packing!

Seriously someone, what is wrong with me?

I hate Radio 1 yet it's all I ever listen to... other than occasionally Steve Wright on Radio 2 and then then 6.30pm comedy slot on Radio 4.

I listen to twat-features Moyles in the morning but I blame that on Brad. He has a crush on Dominic.

Radio 1 is on the wireless at work to put up with the Jo "I can't think of anything new" Wiley, the crap "lets try to be trendy" news and then the worlds worst radio presenter ever comes on (I'm not including Fern and Reggie as they are just children playing with walkie talkies and introducing records... they are not radio presenters... they are just wank!).

Edith "I'll fucking smack her if she says 'er' once more" Bowman!

"Hi er and er welcome er to er the er Edith er Bowman er lunch er time er show er on er radio er 1 er fm!"

Or words similar to that!

So... taking that in to account....

WHAT, FOR THE LOVE OF MARY KATE AND ASHLEY, DID I CALL THE SHOW FOR?

All I wanted to do was have a go at the logical song! So why the fuck didn't I text in???

NO!

I HAD TO FUCKING RING!!!

AND GET FUCKING PICKED TO GO LIVE ON AIR!

Not only do I give my first name, a name I hate and don't want to use, but I also agree to let them phone me back so I go "chat with Edith!"

Why didn't I just say "well actually I'd rather not!" and just give my answer!

So I go on, I chat with Edith, I tell her briefly about my day and what I do for a living and that I'm heading home and the she asks me what I think the answer is.

Keep in mind I'm already pissed off for calling, using my first name AND talking to Edith so I then go and give the wrong fucking answer! Mind you, it was only after the first clue, which was "the title of this song is a popular tourist destination".

Why oh why oh why did I put myself through that? Why did I sit there letting Brad text as many people as he could?

WHY DO I SOUND LIKE A GAY JASPER CARROT?

Mother didn't raise me like this. I had fucking elocution lessons! I shall tell her to demand her fucking money back.

September 2006 I applied for a job with the local division of a national charity. The day before we flew to Ireland I had an invitation to attend and interview on the day we arrived back. I rang the office, explained I wouldn’t be about and the interview was changed to the next day.

October 3rd 2006 at 10.30am I had my job interview and it went so well that later that afternoon the manager rang me and offered me the job, which I accepted.

I started on October 9th and I was given an instruction sheet.

“You need to ring this number,” said Vicky point to a telephone number for the Criminal Records Bureau, “and give them the reference number and request a form for a CRB check.”

I rang that afternoon and a few days later my half-completed form arrive back. I filled in all the information I needed to and then took with me to the office so Vicky could check it over, sign the parts she needed to sign and then send it off.

First it got sent to Carmarthenshire County Council, who graciously pays for our CRB checks. They had to give the form the once over and then send it off to the bureau.

“These sometimes take a while to come back,” said Vicky.
“Yeah, I’ve done a few of these what with the ambulance service, nursing and fostering,” I replied.

October finished and November flew by into December.

“I still haven’t had my CRB check back yet.”
“Remind me in the New Year and we’ll sort it out then.”

January came and a few days in I reminded (or remound as Affie would say) her that I still hadn’t had my CRB clearance through. She made a few phone calls and reported back that it was in the system.

January left and we entered February.

“If it’s not back by the end of the month we’ll sort it then.”

February ended!

Vicky made the phone calls she need to make only to be told it was still in the system.

During the first week of April I received a letter from the council asking for further information with regard to my previous addresses. I gave the letter to Vicky to deal with along with the information requested and Vicky was told to post it back to the council. Which she did!

April 17th that information was sent to the bureau.

So lets look at today.

Vicky makes the phone call asking where my CRB check is.

After much investigating the information sent to them in April is still sat on a desk at the CRB office, whereas it should be with the police.

Ten months.

Ten months I have been working here with no valid CRB reference.

We are a national charity that helps families in crisis. One of the rules with regard to the families with help is that the family must have at least one child under five years old.

So… a family in crisis would be classed as a vulnerable family.

And I’m working with them.

Without a CRB check!

For ten months.

There is something wrong here isn’t there?

I’m quite tempted to seek legal advice for the stress this has caused. How does it look to my bosses that my police check is taking so long? I’m starting to question what I’ve done wrong, even though I know it’s nothing.

I got up stupidly early... for a Saturday anyway

Found a missed call from the Pirate... call me tonight... at anytime... I promise to answer!

Went shopping... only bread and milk... nothing fun.

Watched the Trooping of the Colour... I couldn't tell you why I love it.

Saw the heavens open about 15 seconds after I'd let the dogs out... bloody typical mountain weather!

Watched Scary Movie 4... crap but some bits made me laugh.

Am now watching Affleck play Zelda on the Wii.

Oh today is just full of fucking fun ain't it!

I may try cutting my foot off to see if that livens things up a bit!

Nope. Didn't help.

I really should settle on a blog design shouldn't I.

It's too early!

I'm not going to remove the tag someone kindly added to post entitled "Fuck This Shit!"

it would be a lot more pleasant for the rest of us if you would stop swearing

But I will say these few lovely words...

It's my fucking blog. I'll write what I like. If you consider it unpleasant then DON'T FUCKING READ!

If you're worried about the children then look at it this way... Most 14+ year olds hear and say worse while at school or out on the streets - anywhere they are away from controlling adults. You aren't going to stop it. Those under that age should have something like CyberPatrol running on the PC, dutifully put on by the parents. These programs often contain profanity filters to block out words like fuck and cunt. Jeez, even Helly's work block out the word gay (well we think it's that!) so heaven forbid she should have to look up something happy!

Now, there could be the issue of the blog title appearing in the sidebar of the BCUK homepage. I don't give a fuck. Once again profanity filters will block them out and at the time of day I blogged that entry it would have been gone in minutes.

This whole site is about free speech, and just like with the television, you can always turn over! Or fucking turn off!

One thing I think all of my readers have learnt from me is that I have a foul mouth, don't give a fuck about spelling and would much prefer people be up front and open when they want to criticise. I'm happy to fucking listen and happy to discuss things and even happy to change my thoughts and opinions on things if you can convince me to... and it don't take a lot of convincing!

And yes, what's below is there because I'm feeling very fucking pissed off with the entire day, not just some tag, but also because I'm feeling very cunting petty!

Now, if you're read this and you're still fucking offended read the title once more then FUCK OFF!

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck CUNT Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck!

Tonight I am getting pissed.

Very very pissed.

Of course this will be after I've done the grouting.

Very fucking bad day!

"Stup stirring ut peepull wen therr eatin' torst!"

I think that is so far my Big Brother Quote of the series. I'm there will be more but that just makes me giggle!

Closely followed by...

"Arr cum in an' mayke torst becoz arm un ma period un a feew daze!"

We arrived at Llanelli (Cla-Neth-Clee) Town Hall at 10.30 and waited for us to be called. Finally it was our turn but we had to wait outside while our social worker went in and talked about us first. About 15 minutes later she came back out and we went in.

We were introduced to the panel and I can't remember all of their names now but I know the chairwoman was Monica. Also on the panel were 3 foster carers for other areas, a couple of independent people, Jim Downey - a child psychologist, the manager of the family placement team and then managers of the child care teams.

We were thanked for attending and then told that they'd all read our file and were interested in our comments about not feeling listened to and not being told all the information.

Sadly my mouth instantly took over and Brad didn't get a word in as I explained about the lad we had who after two weeks of being with us I said he needed someone to talk to. Not necessarily counselling but just someone who was not connected with the department, or his mother, or us in any way. We asked his social worker for this. Nothing happened. We asked our social worker for this. She bought some leaflets round. Now in her defence she did do all she could. She spoke to his social worker, she did some research, she made all the contact she could make in her position. Eight months later, with still no counsellor in sight, with this boy still getting out of hand and still needing someone to talk to, a meeting was held at the school. This lads teacher couldn't make it so the headmaster read a report out from her. "J needs someone to talk to. Someone who isn't connected to the social services, his parents or the school in anyway. This is very important and must be done as soon as possible!"

Two weeks later J had someone he could talk to. Sadly this person was connected to the department but J wouldn't know that and this person also had the power to refer him instantly to someone else if necessary. As it was it wasn't necessary but J's problems got worse.

Our other story, with regard to not being told everything, went all the way back to our very first placement. S arrived on Tuesday after school with his social worker. On Wednesday morning he left for school in his taxi. Wednesday afternoon I got a phone call from the school to say his taxi had arrived to bring him back to ours and he'd refused to get in and ran off. We spent most of the night worrying... keep in mind this is our first ever placement. We'd never had a foster child before. Thursday, late afternoon, his shite social worker rang to say he'd turned up that morning. Why the fuck didn't she ring in the morning?

But... more the fucking point... why oh why oh why didn't she tell us that he was a known runner. He'd absconded from every placement he'd ever been on.

Why the fuck did the place him with us? Were we ready for him as a first placement? Okay so sometimes the department don't have a choice and they go for the first available bed but that still doesn't explain why no one told us that written very clearly in his file is "S is a know absconder and runs from placements."

As I predicted Jake wasn't there, but neither was Anthony. In fact I'm surprised no one from the higher office was sat in the room. The issue over payments wasn't mentioned but that doesn't surprise me. Heaven forbid they should delve too much and realise just how bad they are!

Anyhoo, I've bored you I'm sure.

Suffice to say they listened to us. The child psychologist questioned us. No one else had any questions, then finally Monica thanked us again for attending, thanked us for being carers and then said she had no problem in recommending our re-registration for another twelve months.

So there you have it. We're foster carers for another 12 months.

In a little over an hour Brad & I will be sat in front of a panel made up of people from the social services, local government and three foster carer's from other areas.

We will be asked to explain our ups and downs during foster and be asked what we think about the department.

We will be questioned over the payment issue last year and over the placements that ended badly, thankfully all for reasons due to the parents or the kids or the department, never due to us as carers.

We have to explain our issues over lying and useless social workers.

We will have to tell them how angry we were the way things changed and we didn't have a say in the matter.

Everything that happens and is said today will decide if we can be foster carers for another year.

Now, blowing my own trumpet here, I know they will reregister us because they cannot do without us. Not just because they are desperate for carers but because we've never said no. As two men (well nearly!) in the house they think they can place the violent or angry children with us. We won't mind being kicked or punched or bitten because we're two strapping (well, Brad is) young men who can deal with these types of children.

These panel meetings are meant to last 30 mins. This one will be longer because of the issues we have to raise. Most panel meetings are a formality. New foster carers have to go to panel before being approved and if you've got that far in your application process that you're at panel then you're going to get a yes.

Re-registration panel meetings are a bit different because you've already been approved and now it's looking at whether you should be approved again.

I have big problems with the department and am worried I'll say something that although I mean, I probably shouldn't say. Such as "Jake, you're sat here now, can you tell me why you couldn't be fucked to answer a letter sent to you?" I actually don't think Jake will be there. I think he'll chicken out because he knows me and knows I won't let this go away. I think he'll send Anthony. Anthony is just below Jake in the social services ranking (ranking Juzzzy, Charlie, AJ, Nick CJ) ladder and is actually a nice guy but he's also very good with his words. I can't help but like him and I know he'll say something like "Well jake didn't answer because he didn't want to!" and the tone of his voice and the way he says it will just make me think "yeah you're right!". He's like that. Damn it!

Oh well... leaving the house now. Here goes nothing!

Feeling rather moody.

Don't know why.

Hmm... maybe I need chocolate!

As you can see I'm still beggering about with the blog design. Didn't get chance to do it last night as after I'd finished painting the bathroom Affie and I sat down and watched "Turistas" which was watchable but not fantastic.

Anyhoo, I'm sure I shall work more on the blog design at some point today. Any suggestions would be welcomed.

Oooh, we have our mock assessment for sign language tonight ready for our final exam next week! *shudder*

Loyal viewers, people of blogland, anyone who uses the internet...

Download it now... it's what the internet was made for and now you Microsoft Windows using heathens can get it!

http://www.apple.com/safari/download/

So how do you get a piano in a Ford Mondeo.

Well the obvious answer is that you don't... well not in one piece anyway.

So I didn't.

But Big Strong John will hopefully have room in his Big White Van and he'll pick it up for me at some point... with me and Brad helping him of course because it weighs a mother-fuckin' tonne!

So tonight, instead of playing my new piano or playing on the wii redesigning my blog I shall be painting the bathroom.

I've just sugar-soaped it and am now about to paint it.

Ten minutes left at work and for some reason I'm starting to feel a bit pissed off. I think it could be because I'm not happy with my blog design.

Mind you, I rarely am. I loved the one AJ did with Wentworth and the tiara etc.

I shall spend some tonight playing on my new piano and on the wii trying to come up with something.

I think this'll do for now.

I really can't make my mind up.

I have to get one of these

into one of these

Advice please.

I think it might be time for a blog redesign.

Waddayafink?

Jeremy Kyle
I have a distant cousin (by marriage only) who works on the Jeremy Kyle show. He’s quite high up and has the power to pull episodes if he so wishes. On June 18th ITV will be airing an episode of the Jeremy Kyle Show where a convicted paedophile is one of the people chatting. He tries to justify his crimes. His wife is sat with him. She knew of his conviction before she married him. So she could marry him and live with him she put her teenage daughter into care. She then had a child with this guy. One member of the audience was so disgusted by the story she was physically sick.
Pull the episode. Don’t show it. It’s just wrong! Very very fucking wrong!

Drivers
Red lights. We see them every day in various different places. They can often mean different things. Red lights on cookers often mean the oven is on. Sometimes red lights appear on computers to tell you the hard-drive is busy working away. The red light has often been associated with prostitution. But… red lights found at the top of traffic lights… you know the ones that are red, amber and green, well they mean stop. This is very important. At traffic lights it’ll stop you getting hit by other silly cars going through on green. At road works there is often only one lane free. If you go through on red then you could end up facing a truck coming the other way that, stupidly, went through on green. I know, he should have known better maybe, but he didn’t see you coming. In fact, not only did he not see you coming he didn’t see the other five cars that went through on red as well. Now red lights are also found at the back of cars. Sometimes they are there all the time but other times they just seem to flash. These are not disco lights. These are brake lights. It means I’m stopping. Now if you’re behind me you’re privileged enough to be looking at three brake lights. Two just above the bumper, at either side of the car, and then one on the rear windscreen, at eye level. If you see them light up it means I’m slowing down, if not stopping. This is your cue to do the same because if I stop and you don’t, well you will soon enough.

Pendragon Waste Management
The green sheet covering the skip on the back of your truck is to stop debris falling out. It is not a sail. And to the driver – snot is not a breakfast food.

Elton John
You are not a gay icon. You are just gay, and that makes me very ashamed to also be gay. I, on the other hand, am a gay icon* and enjoy the status that comes with it.

Time
You are moving too quickly, please slow down.

Big Brother
Get Seany out. He scares me. His eyes scare me. He is psychotic and will kill someone before long.

Chris Moyles
I still fucking hate you, you useless piece of shit.

*In my world

So after watching the Grand Prix, doing some architect stuff, I'm now sat watching the South Park "Make Love Not Warcraft" episode, which is still fucking ace even though I've seen it about nine times already.

I do feel like a geek while watching it though as I've been known to occasionally play WoW.

Scarily the guy who is being "the baddie" is how I imagine our foster-kid ending up but that's a whole other story.*

I'm off to see my new piano tomorrow! Woo hoo!!! Still no fucking idea where it's going. S'pose I'd better look for some one in the area who can tune it.

*The Story - Basically he completely lost the plot when we told him he could only have three hours a day on the internet.

Well our power has just come back on after a lovely power-cut.

Looking over the top of the mountain (yes, I am that tall) there are lovely storm clouds approaching.

I'm bored.

Someone entertain me.

MY FUCKING TAGS!

Every last one of them!

They're back!

You know, it's lucky I still have a file on my laptop (somewhere) with the address of bloscar winners in it as I think I owe someone I rather large thank you!

So Emily has gone and the nation cares not a jot! Not only could the dumb bitch not follow the rules where taking about evictions were concerned but she then opened her gob and utter the word nigger. Now, in her defence, I don't think she meant it offensively but I can appreciate why BB chucked her out. I do have to wonder though whether I'd have been chucked out for calling Carrole a dirty lezzer, which I do call the two dykes who live in our village. This, to me, is a term on endearment and they laugh about it. They call us the filthy queers. I don't get offended, I laugh.

I also have to question how BB would cope with my excessive use of the word cunt. Those of you at the mini-blog meet please tell me, do I use that word too much?

Can you imagine if there was a Big Brother house made of bloggers? I don't think I'd last long in there!

So we have Amanda, Carrole, Channelle, Charley, Laura, Lesley, Nicky, Sam, Shabnam, Tracey & Ziggy left and rather than evict Shabtwat tonight we're getting two more men. Ziggy won't be happy but I'm hoping that these two men are the only two allowed to nominate and the both nominate Ziggy. He's a useless lying twat who has had his 15 minutes of fame he blew it. Tough shit!

Bah!

I'm getting ranty... I can feel it brewing... I'm going to make a coffee, have a fag and calm down. I have a shit load of work to do and ten course to prepare and set dates for!

Arse!

When I was a ickle boy my mommy forced me to play the piano. Bored by only having one keyboard I moved on to the organ. For a birthday present one year I was told my gift was under the phone in the main hall, in the west wing, don't you know! So I ran downstairs, through the reception, sneaking the quick way through the staff kitchen and straight into the main hall and there was a HUGE Eminent Organ... sure enough with the phone sat on top of it.

I played and played until my fingers bled and the phantom had truly found his music of the night.

Now, jump forward a few years after that but still way before now. Confused yet?

Time had moved on and all that my organ was capable was now available in one small box made by Roland. There was no way I was getting rid of the organ but in the same light I wanted something that gave me a starburst sound or a flute that sounded like a flute and not a bontempi whistle. Don't get me wrong, my impressive organ was the ultimate at resembling a HUGE church pipe organ but it's flute and strings were something to be desired. The other problem was I no longer lived at the mans but had my little cottage in the grounds and there was no way this organ would get through the front door.

So, off I went shopping, down to Musical Exchanges in town and bought myself a lovely Roland keyboard and Pro-E to attach to it.

Sat in my lounge I was in heaven. The myraid of sounds was amazing but surprisingly enough I kept coming back to the piano sound, which for once actually sounded like a piano.

Back to the shops only this time I looked at pianos. "It's a lovely piece of furniture!" I said to myself, "and would look good in the hallway or dining room."

Suffice to say they were rather pricey so I didn't bother but I vowed to myself that one day I would buy a piano.

Now, I live with Brad, I have a shitty keyboard I never use because it is so shit and I still have no piano.

Until today.

I think Brad might actually kill me because it means having a HUGE move around of the furniture but I've just agreed to take a piano off my boss. Dependant on the price!

"Well it's in my mother's house but it's actually my sisters but I don't think she wants anything for it," she said.
"Well if can find the room I'll have it!" I said.

And then a few minutes later I followed it with...

"Actually bugger the room, I'll make room. I'll take it!"

Paul Boyd just blogged about this and I think it's important enough to share.

Stop the chancellor using Lottery money to plug the funding gap in the 2012 olympics. If this goes ahead at least £900m will go from Big lottery, Sport England, Arts Council and Heritage Lottery much of this money would fund projects within the local voluntary and community sector. Services to disadvantaged people will be directly affected by the loss of this funding, people who will have no opportunity to benefit from the olympics directly but rely on local services provided by the voluntary sector.

Please click here to sign the petition.

Why, in my head, am I arguing that I'm not a nerd yet the only way to prove I find something funny is to prove that I just might be?

People of blogland I implore you to pass this idea on!

Remember when the Bloscars were a small awards? Remember how big they became last year? Okay so it wasn't that big but it was bigger than it was before...

Well... another blogger of repute has come up with an idea that deserves applauding and promoting. Remember LyndLJ's Secret Santa and the fun we had all taking part... CJ's quizzes... and all the other great things blog has brought us... well here's another one!

The gorgeousness known as MenoMama or often just Meno... or even Mama has come up with the idea of The Annual Numpty Awards and now is your chance to be in on from the start.

Click HERE for more info and why not take a look at my blog entries about when I was a numpty, just follow the links in my tags! Meno is also putting up prizes from her own pocket and WE... yes that's you and me... to vote on who we think is the buggest numpty!

Come on... have a go... It'll be fun!

So Emily is out of Big Brother!

Oh well!

This is the dumb bitch who claimed indie is new music! Which lets face it, is blatantly wrong... unless you're Juzzzy where ALL music is new music!

Ladies, can you comment BEFORE you listen so I can start running.

I give you... the new Sheilas Wheels song and I'm saying nothing about Friday night.

I once read a blog entry which discussed an idea called "Meno's First Annual Numpty Awards" and decided to enter!

While working for a TV company I spent half an hour on the phone slagging off the pop group Blur, who were due in to be interviewed, only to hang up and find them stood behind me.

I have a speech impediment and cannot say the word ambulance without pausing and thinking about it. This didn't help when I used to work for the ambulance service.

Late one afternoon I popped into the little local supermarket to get some bread and milk. The place looked pretty empty and as I walked in the staff behind the tobacco counter smiled and say "Evening". I smiled back, said "Good evening!" and proceeded to let out the longest and loudest fart ever. No one, including myself, knew where to look. As I walked away everyone, once again including myself, burst into laughter!

Quite recently I lost the plot at one of our foster-kids because I found cannabis resin in a tin in his bedroom. It turned out to be a blue candle!

While sat in my car, outside a rugby club, another car pulled into the space next to mine. The driver got out and started getting something from the boot of his car. My first thought "Oooh y' would!" as he was rather cute! He closed his boot and walked past the front of my car and into the rugby as I said "Raaarrrr!" in a homage to my friend Sam. This is a phrase we say when we see cute. It's rather a posh growl. To my horror my window and sunroof were open so he heard everything. He turned back to me, winked and did the pistol point, then walked into the club!

Once day during a piano lesson I sneezed so violently I fell backwards off the piano stool and broke my wrist.

Faith doesn't have to be explained or defended.

Brad says this is Snail Poo.

I don't believe him.

I've just realised I'm going to lose all my profile tags!

All my lovely profile tags!

I think I'm going to cry.

No, I'm sure I'm going to cry!

Bacon Butties....

I had a lovely message from a blogger asking if this blog would take the same form as the other one. She was worried that because foster-bastard had read my blog I wouldn’t be as vocal as I was before.

Well rest assured my loyal and faithful audience of one, I will still be gay and not Welsh, I still be vulgar, I’ll still be flirting with men just as much as before and I was still be over-using the words fuck, cunt, so and well.

I hope that clears things up for you.

This blog has moved.

Please email/message/comment for the new address if you don't already have it.

Thank you.

So how long do you think it'll take me to settle in?

Taken Brads blog...

EDIT:

Anyone who needs Paddy's mobile number, leave a comment on his blog.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Hello all,

Whoever is coming out to play in Birmingham/Solihull this weekend - this is for you!

Plans, such as they are, are as follows:

Friday:

8:30pm - Meeting at Bacchus bar, which is located under the Burlington Hotel on New Street (there are links to maps below). It's very easy to find, the hotel is easy to see, it has big flags with it's name on hanging on the outside. You walk into a sort of arcade and there are some stairs and also a lift to go down to the bar.

At some point that evening (after 10pm) we will be heading off to Snobs nightclub which is up on the Paradise Circus, just a few minutes walk from Bacchus (see map).

Dress code - pretty much anything goes. I'll be wearing jeans, trainers and a shirt or t-shirt. I wouldn't reccommend dressing up too much cos Snobs is a bit of a dive, but it's cheap and cheerful.

Saturday:

Daytime - Meet up for something to eat at 1pm at All Bar One in Brindley Place (just off Broad Street, see map).

Evening - Solihull - easiest way to get there from Birmingham city centre is probably by train from Snow Hill station (see map of Birmingham), but there are also buses if you prefer, the best option is the number 37 (see map for the stop), and then you can get a taxi back to your hotel or whatever at the end of the night.

For those who have tickets for the show, it's at the Library Theatre which is accessed through the Touchwood shopping centre, which is easy to find. It starts at 7:00pm. See map of Solihull below.

Those of you not coming to the show could find a bar in Solihull (there are loads of nice ones) or have something to eat or whatever.

Following the show - around 9:30 or 10:00pm - we'll be going to a place called The Barley Mow, also in Solihull. It's a pub with a late license and a dance floor. They play cheesy shite, 70s, 80s, chart stuff, all that jazz. A good party night out.

Dress code - a bit smarter than Friday night, jeans are OK as long as they're tidy, no trainers, no tracksuits, basically smart casual. A shirt would be safer than a t-shirt.

MAPS

Map of Birmingham

Map of Solihull