Posted here.
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And no, it's not just about bcuk!
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The content of this website belongs to a private person, blog.co.uk is not responsible for the content of this website.
]]>If you have this blog in an RSS feed reader please go to http://www.iamlanders.com and replace your feed with the blog seen there as in the next few days/weeks posts on this server will not be displayed fully and will not allow comments. Thank you for your time. Sorry for any inconvenience.
Dear Landersuk,
It's welcoming to see you over reacting about blog tags (even if you have deleted the entry and images) because I can see it means you're leaving blog.
This is something many people have been looking forward to.
Your humour is not a pleasant one and rarely funny and I speak for many when I say it will not missed.
Neither will your language which is always disgusting.
The disappearance of you and your arrogance and righteousness will lift blog.co.uk and bring it back to the place it used to be before you joined.
I'm not going to go on as I know you're going to do a blog entry about this, hence the fake email address as I know you'll publish it, but I think I speak for all of blog.co.uk when I say you really will not be missed.
Goodbye.
My reply:
Hello RT.
I'm calling you RT as your email address was just that repeated over and over again. I doubt those are your actually initials and I think it has more to do with them being next to each other on the keyboard.
So you think I'm over-reacting over the tags. Well you're entitled to that opinion and I'm quite sure you're not alone in those thoughts. I'm damn sure there are many others who think I'm over-reacting. So be it. I don't really care. I don't think I am over-reacting and I have my reasons for being incredibly pissed off about it.
Sorry to disappoint you but I haven't actually deleted the entry, it's just currently private. The people at BCUK weren't happy with me for that entry and have asked me to delete. I've stated that I'm just giving my opinion and there is nothing they can really do about that but while it's in discussion between myself and them I'm happy to keep it private until a decision is made.
What makes you think I'm leaving? I'm going to change the way I write in this blog but the Bloscars will stay, as will I. I might move the Friday Five and the Cunt List (something you could be on!) to another server but I'm not leaving. I am cancelling my pro account and going to a free one as BCUK don't deserve my money anymore but I'm not actually leaving. Again, sorry to to disappoint you. It's really not your day is it?!
My humour is just that, it's my humour. If you don't like then don't read. My humour can often be sick and twisted and is mostly sarcastic (I think) and most people seem to accept it. If they don't then they don't read, I assume.
Yes, my language is disgusting. You're right about that one. There is a word there you should pay attention to. MY language. How I want to speak on my blog is up to me. It won't change. If you don't like it then fuck off you ignorant cunt. (Do you see what I did there? I used bad language! Ooooh me, I'm sure a rascal!)
Yes I'm arrogant, yes I'm righteous but I admit these things. Agains it all comes back to this being my blog. It's my area to write. If you don't like then don't read!
For the love of God is this not a simple concept to understand? There are many blogs I can't stand so I don't fucking read them! Why if you don't like mine do you continue to read? Are you slightly fucking retarded? Are you incapable of understanding that very simple concept? Are you one of those people who I don't read and you don't like it?
You know, I might not be missed, oh well. This blog isn't written for the readers (anyone with half a brain would know that - have you seen the number of people I upset or disagree with? Would I do that if I was writing for the reader?) it's written for me! If I get no comments it doesn't matter, I'll still write. I don't write for the attention or because I'm emotionally damaged or socially stunted. I write because I want to. I like going back and readign old entries. I do it for me! I'd miss me and that is all that matters.
In conclusion fuck off you dumb cunt.
Love and kisses
Landers.
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On the radio last week they talked about how people are travelling "up north" to do their shopping, christmas and general grocery. I decided this sounded like a good idea so thought we should give it a try.
Enniskillen is only a couple of hours away from where we live and interestingly enough my maternal grandmother and all her family are from there so it was an extra special trip for me. 
We set off around 7.30am and got to Tesco for 10am. We didn't even realise we'd gone across the border until we saw the PSNI station in Belcoo. The PSNI is the Police Service for Northern Ireland. They didn't want to be known as the Northern Ireland Police Service. The PSNI station is incredible. It's like a small prison! It certainly makes you feel unwelcome as you enter the UK but it's a left over from the troubles and as a border station has blast walls and bullet proof glass.
The Tesco store was laid the same as any Tesco store I've been in so we, thankfully, knew which aisles to head for.
Our purpose was to buy birthday, christmas and anniversary gifts and once we'd done that we'd do a bit of grocery shopping.
We had a nice slow walk round Tesco and then over to Asda and then into the Erneside Shopping Centre and by the time we'd finished we'd got a car full of goodies and sore feet.
The trip home took longer than the trip there as we missed two turns and really had no idea where we were going.
We unloaded the car in the rain and then loaded up with the stuff we need for tonight and tomorrow as we're staying with Mr & Mrs Duggan tonight and tomorrow Helen and I are having a baking day.
So there you have my day and I bet you're wondering why we travelled north to do our shopping given that we live in a very beautiful part of Ireland with every shop you could imagine. Well the cost was the issue.
I've already been told how I'm not supporting the Irish economy by doing this and I agree that I'm not but I have my reasons. I'm currently paying a pension levy on my pension contributions in my wages on a pension I will never get. This started in April of this year. In January we got hit with a 1% income charge to try and stabilise the economy and, as we all knew and expected, this failed hence the pension levy. Sadly the pension levy is only for those of is in the public service and in December we're going to get hit by more taxes. In one year my income has gone down by 12% and even though the government tell me that the cost of living has gone down and I can assure them it's not.
Fuel (petrol, diesel and heating oil) has all gone up, milk and butter has all gone up and alcohol has gone up. This list is not exhaustive. The only things I know that have down are house prices (we not buying yet), rental house prices (ours hasn't!) and clothing prices.
Great, so the cost of clothing has gone down but the cost of food has gone up! It's just as well it's that was round so I can afford to buy new clothes as I get thin from not being to afford to eat.
Cowen and his fucking cronies can tell me as much as they want that the cost of living has come down but the people they really need to tell are the shops! Maybe they'll reduce their prices then and prove him right! Until then my taxes think he's a lying cunt, just like the lying leader before him (I'm stating opinion there - mine, no one else's! I'm allowed to state my opinion!)
So once we'd bought all our christmas (and etc) gifts we bought some things from ourselves. 
I'd now like to share five items from our shopping trolley.
1 x 250g Kenco Really Smooth Instant coffee.
20 x Tubes of Pringles*.
6 x 900g Tin of Cadbury's Heroes
1 x 1ltr Smirnoff Red Label Vodka
1 x 1ltr Teachers Whiskey.
The coffee cost £2.49, the Pringles were £1 per tube, the Heroes were £5 per tin and the alcohol was £20 for the two (on offer).
In total (just those items) cost us £72.49.
In Tesco Ireland same items have a very different cost!
The coffee is €4.50, the Pringles are €2.49, the Heroes are €12.49, the Vodka is €29.99 and the whisky is €22.49. There is no offer on the alcohol in Tesco Ireland.
That total would have been €181.72.
In sterling that's £162.40. That's a saving of £89.91 which is over €100!
Should we really shop in Tesco Ireland? I think not! This trip will now become a once-a-month spin. Not just for the shopping but so I can find my relatives!
* We bought 20 because they were so cheap!
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1. Do you have a favourite part of autumn?
No. I hate it. Wet leaves make everything too slippy!
2. "It's too cold to snow!" Do you think it ever is?
Yes.
3. Do you feel there is still a place for British Summer Time or should we just stop changing the clocks?
If only for tradition I say keep changing the clocks. Or maybe just put it forward once year! Every twenty odd years we'd gain a new day!
4. Are there certain meals you only eat in certain seasons (salad in summer, stew in winter)?
No, but 'im indoors won't eat stew in the summer. And I love stew!
5. Autumn is…?
Shit.
I'll remove ALL copyright for these. Feel free to use them.
I'm not leaving but I'm cancelling my subscription and going back to being a free member. I'll still run the bloscars but will have to think of new ways to tag certain awards.
I don't see how it improves anything!
And what the flick does any of this means:
- Die Mindestanzahl von Zeichen für ein Tag wurde nicht eingehalten. Ein Tag muss mindestens aus 2 zusammenhängenden Buchstaben oder Zahlen bestehen (a-z, A-Z, 0-9).
- Das Tag enthält zu viele Wörter. Ein Tag darf nur aus maximal 5 Wörtern bestehen. Bitte trenne Deine Tags mit Kommas und nicht mit Leerzeichen.
- Tags dürfen nicht länger als 50 Zeichen sein.
I'm using a UK blog server and it should be assumed that my main language is English so send my complete message in English!
BCUK you flicked up big time on this one!
I've put up with pathetic stupid flicking messages from that dumb flick who lies about messages sent to her and I've ignore all her stupid attempts to get me off blog but all this by "The Team" has bought me closer to leaving blog that she ever did. She made me more determined to stay, even when she sent me threatening messages telling me how her friends know what I look like and are going to beat me up then she's going to cut me it didn't make me leave but this makes me want to delete straight away. You flickers!
What makes it worse, what makes it seem more rude than just a flicking improvement is that I can't even reply to your message to tell you I think those of you that made this decision are flickers!
See ya!
]]>Hello LandersUK,
in order to use your tags to improve the searchability of your blog posts, it has been necessary to make a few changes to the tag system.
The changes are as follows:
- tags will continue to be separated by a comma
- a tag must consist of between two and fifty characters
- a single tag can consist of up to five words
- almost all characters can be used as tags, except and any other HTML code symbolsUnfortunately, these changes have caused some of your tags to be deleted.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The following are your tags were deleted:Media Itemtag: 2
Blog Tag: i
Post Tag: k | blogger-you'd-like-to-know-personally | meno's-first-annual-numpty-awards-1 | meno's-first-annual-numpty-awards-2 | meno's-first-annual-numpty-awards-3 | meno's-first-annual-numpty-awards-4 | meno's-first-annual-numpty-awards-5 | meno's-first-annual-numpty-awards-6 | meno's-first-annual-numpty-awards-7 | could-you-say-fuck-some-more-please | before-you-tag-this-post-about-god-just-trust-me-god-doesn't-give-a-fuck-about-my-swearing | jesus-will-not-love-you-if-you-swear | i-hope-i-dont-get-fucking-sued. | i-fucking-hate-you-you-vile-fucking-tramp-whore | i-often-wonder-if-nick-will-ever-notice-this-tag? | he-didn't-notice-so-i've-tagged-this-one-as-well. | over-48hours-and-he-still-hasn't-noticed-folks.--do-you-think-he'll-see-this-one? | things-to-do-before-i-die | i-once-french-kissed-a-horse | the-moria-smith-forget-me-not-award | landers-is-a-working-girl-now-so-won't-be-about-that-much-in-the-day---i'm-sure-you'll-cope! | i-don't-know-what-to-do-anymore | wake-me-up-when-september-ends | i-have-no-idea-what-to-do-anymore | firefox-3-may-as-well-have-been-called-safari | what-did-you-want-to-be? | we've-got-mother-fucking-snakes-on-a-mother-fucking-plane | i-do-hope-that-vile-stalker-bitch-isn't-reading-as-that-would-piss-me-off-even-more | oh-shit-what-have-i-done? | you-don't-talk-about-fight-club | i-do-not-care-that-this-post-may-seem-a-bit-petty-i'm-just-in-one-of-those-moods-this-morning | some-stupid-cunt-is-trying-to-comment-but-not-getting-them-approved | i-have-to-wonder-if-one-of-you-will-copy-and-paste-this-to-her | i-wish-she'd-just-leave-and-i'm-sure-she-wishes-the-same-about-me
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The tags were deleted because of the following errors:- Die Mindestanzahl von Zeichen für ein Tag wurde nicht eingehalten. Ein Tag muss mindestens aus 2 zusammenhängenden Buchstaben oder Zahlen bestehen (a-z, A-Z, 0-9).
- Das Tag enthält zu viele Wörter. Ein Tag darf nur aus maximal 5 Wörtern bestehen. Bitte trenne Deine Tags mit Kommas und nicht mit Leerzeichen.
- Tags dürfen nicht länger als 50 Zeichen sein.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for your understanding. We hope you enjoy the new improved tag system.
If you want to read more about the new tag system, or give us some feedback on the changes, please click here: The Blog
Your blog.de team
1. Are you superstitious?
No but I do salute magpies because my nan always did.
2. Are you attending or hosting a halloween party this year?
No, I'm working and that's horror enough.
3. What's your favourite scary movie?
It's not really a scary movie but The Elephant Man frightens the bejesus out of me! I've never seen it all the way through and have had to watching it in three parts!
4. Trick or Treat?
Trick every time!
5. The best Halloween costume is...?
...made by Warner Bros costume department!
I have been watching the series Band of Brothers recently. A friend lent me the box-set after telling me how good he'd found it. I'm half way through and I'm throughly enjoying it but it's had an interesting but welcoming effect.
My grandfather was an engineer in the Royal Air Force, stationed in Burma during the second world war. My mother has all his medals and somewhere, I don't know where (yet), she has all the letters he sent his wife, my nan, during his time away. Sadly he died before I was born so I never got the chance to ask him about his war effort but I don't think I'd have got much information anyway as mom always said that he wouldn't talk about even when she asked. She's read the letters he sent home and from what she's told me Band of Brothers (although about the U.S. army and not the RAF) has it about right with regard to the friendships that grew and the hardships people went through.
Apparently in one of the letters my grandfather sent home he talks about a busy day maintaining aircraft. He recognised one of the aircraft as that flown by a pilot he'd become very friendly with. The engineers watched as the planes took off and hours later watched as they returned. Of course not all of them did, one of those was that of my grandfathers friend. In the letter he talks about how he can't afford to mourn his loss or take time to grieve as to do so would cause more problems. They prayed at a Sunday service and they remembered their lost friends but still couldn't mourn. He wasn't alone in this apparently. No one mourned for fear of breakdowns and becoming unstable and unable to carry out duties. In the letter he talked about how his squadron will mourn as a group when they return.
During the last ten months my family and I have suffered so much loss (thankfully none for at least eight/nine weeks now!) but I cannot imagine being surrounded by it on a daily basis, even more so when I can't mourn or grieve.
I once tried to join the RAF. I wanted to be a pilot. Not a fighter pilot, those kind of planes never interested me. I wanted to fly troop/tank carriers, the big buggers basically! I did an aptitude test, a medical and had an interview and at the end I got told my eyesight wasn't good enough to be a pilot but looking at my results someone had decided I was perfectly suited to be an engineer! You can imagine how excited my mother was and how disappointed I was. I didn't join up in the end, as I'm sure you've already worked out.
Having watched Band of Brothers, a series based on real events and real people (some of whom are interview at the beginning or each episode) I have a new found respect for the armed forces, then and now!
A friend I went to school with joined the Navy at sixteen and went out to the Gulf. He was on board the Ark Royal during the first Gulf War. He'll never know the respect I have for him. Mainly because we don't talk about more for reason I'm not going into but even though there is that wall between us my respect for him is higher now than it ever was. Another friend is currently (as far as I know) in Afghanistan. A place where 223 soldiers have died since 2001. He's lost friends, people he cares for. He could be next. That thought scares me a lot!
I always buy a poppy and occasionally my nan (dad's mom not mom's mom) and I would attend the Remembrance Day service at the Garden of Remembrance where all our families ashes are scattered but I think this year, having watched Band of Brothers and talked more to my mom about my grandfather, I think it'll mean more than it has in previous years. I know that's wrong, I know I should have always had this respect and I think I have in someway, just not the right way and absolutely not enough.
These people fight for our freedom. They fight so I can enjoy my life. I may not agree with why we went to war in the Gulf, I may agree with Thatcher sinking the General Belgrano but no matter what I think these people, these members of the armed forces go into this career of their own free will. They make the choice to enlist and face the possibility of dying for their country.
To them, those from the past and those willing to serve in the future I say thank you. Thanks is all I can offer but if you're passing I'll pop the kettle on and I'm sure I could spare a biscuit or two.
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon
Saint Crispin's day.
William Shakespeare's Henry V; Act IV, Scene 3
]]>It's a half hour American comedy from Showcase, the same people who bought you Dexter. I'll be honest and say it's not as enjoyable as the adverts made it out as there are certain parts that are quite sad but when it's funny it's fucking hilarious!
And here for your viewing pleasure is one of the funniest scenes I've seen on TV in a long while. Even though you know what's coming it's still fucking hysterical!
Enjoy!
]]>Incident Number One
So there I am trundling along in my little 1963 Land Rover that didn't go very fast. If you got above forty the whole thing shook until it felt like your eyes were melting.
Up ahead a bus had stopped to let it's passengers off and as the road was clear I thought I'd over take. As I did a girl stepped out from the front of the bus, not looking where she was going, and I hit her. If you don't included the bruising or damage to her pride she wasn't really injured but there was a spectacular tyre mark up her tights.
She soon got up and appeared fine but the police had been called by this point so I was starting to panic. Thankfully she admitted it was all her fault and a couple of witnesses had backed me up. I was breathalysed, as per procedure, and given instructions to produce my driving license and insurance at the police station within fourteen days. The officer explained that there was nothing to worry about as she'd admitted fault and that the producer, like the breathalyser, was purely procedure.
Two days later I arrive at the police station with my documents and handed them over.
"You're in trouble!" said the desk officer laughing.
"No I'm not!" I insisted.
"Oh yes you are!" he said chuckling.
"No I'm not, she admitted it was her fault!"
"Yeah you're still in trouble."
"Why?"
"The girl you hit was the sergeants daughter!"
Trying to be all brave and righteous I muttered something about it still being her fault but inside not only was I bawling my eyes out I was also preparing to spend the rest of my life getting ass-raped daily by Slasher Joyce my cell mate!
Thankfully a few weeks later I received a letter telling me the incident had been closed.
Incident Number Two
It was 1am and I'd just finished a radio show which had gone well and was giving my guest, who was a good friend, a lift home. We headed through the one-way road system of the town and chatted generally about how the show had gone and what feedback she could expect, as she was hoping to get a slot on the station.
Without warning a man ran out from a side street on the right and I swerved to avoid him, veering (over-compensating) to the left.
We both spouted out some kind of expletive and once we'd calmed down Emma asked "are you not going to stop?"
"What for?"
"That man!" she said.
"What man?"
"The man you just ran over!"
"I missed him!"
"No you didn't! He was in the road! You went over him!"
I looked in my rear mirror and sure enough a different man was lying in the road. I think I shouted fuck or words to that effect but I couldn't actually get out the car. I was quite sure he was dead.
I rang for an ambulance and explained what I'd done and asked them to send the police as well and it was the police who turned up first. I got out the car and headed over to them but kept my gaze away from 'the body.'
"It's me, I did it!" I said with my hands up as though they were going to shoot me.
"You did what?" the female officer asked.
"I ran over him!"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I hit him."
"You hit him?"
"Yeah, with my car!"
"Hang on!" she said putting her hand up.
She called her partner over and explained to him what I'd said and he came over to talk to me.
"Sir, you say you hit him?" he said.
"Yes."
"Just?"
"Yes!"
"Actually you just drove over his legs," said Emma who was now out the car and at my side.
"Did I?"
"Oh yes, just his legs. He was already lying in the road!"
"And you didn't see him?" asked the officer.
"No I didn't! I'd swerved to miss a guy running out of Edington Street!"
"Right, miss," he said talking to Emma, "can you drive his car round to the station please?"
"I suppose," she said, "but I'm not too sure where it is."
"You can follow us," he turned to me, "sir can you get into this police car and go back to the station to answer some questions."
As we pulled off I saw the ambulance turn up but I still couldn't look at the body of the guy I'd just killed. At the station I was arrested and read my rights and then taken to an interview room, Emma was asked to wait in reception.
A few minutes later the female officer came in and started to ask me questions. She explained how everything was really a formality as, even though they hadn't heard much of it, they fully believed my story and Emma had already given them a quick rundown (excuse the pun!) as well.
She breathalyser me, which was clear, and then wrote my statement out. It's been too long to get anyone in trouble (because Staffordshire Police read my blog! - ha!) but she kind of lead me along, making sure there was no way I could get into trouble about it. In another room Emma was giving her statement but she didn't mention the guy coming out from the right as she hadn't seen him. This didn't seem to matter.
Everything was going well. Too well. One thing confused me!
"Excuse me," I said, "if you didn't know what I was talking about when you turned up why were you there?"
"What do you mean?" asked the officer.
"I called you. I called the police to say I'd hit the man with my car but when you turned up you knew nothing about it!"
"Oh, we'd been called in for a riot in the chip shop!"
She continued telling me how they, two other cars and a van, had turned up to sort out a big drunken fight going on in the chip shop. The guy in the road had already had the crap beaten out of him and was lying half-in half-out the road with a dislocated shoulder. I just bounced over his legs!
I was relieved he wasn't dead but now felt really guilty for breaking both his legs.
"Is he seriously hurt?" I asked.
"Who?"
"The man I hit!"
"Oh no! As soon as the ambulance turned up he got up and ran off!"
I never heard anything further from this one.
Incident Number Three
Dale, a best mate (and still so even after this!) was living with me on and off and I had to go away for the weekend.
I was in the process of sorting lots of things out and the house was a mess. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the only carpet visible in the dining room was a thin path from the kitchen to the lounge.
Dale was under strict instructions not to let Rachel in while I was away for the weekend. No matter what! There were two reasons behind this. One I won't be going to and the other is just that I didn't want her seeing the mess.
Back from my weekend away Dale, Rach and I were in the pub having a drink when one of them (I forget which) let it slip that Rach had been in the house that weekend as she needed to use the toilet. Rather than shout in the pub I got up, walked out and got into my car.
Dale came out and stood in front of the car, wanting to talk and explain. I was in no mood to listen so I started the engine and aimed for him.
Thankfully he moved out the way! I drove home, furious, but him and Rach followed me. While Rach sat in the car Dale and I sorted things out over a coffee on the back patio. I'm trying to make it sound posh but really it was just a little back yard. But it was nice!
I'm quite glad he jumped out the way really as he and Rach are the Heroes I talked about in Ma's post months ago as they're both paramedics, and very good ones at that!
]]>----
My name is Rob and I will no longer tolerate online stalkers or trolls.
I will not feed their fire by responding to their comments or posts except in three ways:
1. I will choose to delete their offending comment if I can
2. I will ignore their comments/posts on another blog
3. And then, I will move on.
I will not give them blogging space or another thought for there are many other people here that deserve my energy and attention.
May this blogging community regain its blogging spirit and take back this community from stalkers and claim it as their own.
If you believe this as well, then copy and post this on your blog with your user name.
]]> 
During a rehearsal for a performance of 'An Inspector Calls' in which I was playing Gerald Croft my on-stage fiancée, Shelia Birling, had the following line "He knows you know! And I hate to think what else he knows that we don't know he knows yet!" She found this hysterical and would begin to giggle every time she said it. Nothing could stop her! Janet, the lady playing the Birlings maid, a role she didn't want but took anyway, was furious! At one point, as the line approached, backstage we all heard her mutter in a stage whisper louder than her own stage voice "Do you think she'll fuck it up this time!" Well we never actually got to the line at that point because Ann (Mrs Bilring), Terry (Mr. Birling), Jayne (Shelia Birling), Simon (Eric Birling) and myself fell about laughing. Of course this didn't go down well so we took a break and came back to it later.
Thankfully most of the gags, gaffs, goofs and corpsing took place during rehearsals and once it was out of our system then the actual performances usually went on without a hitch. Unfortunately An Inspector Calls must have been cursed.
The set had been built to resemble a typical wealthy family dining room in 1912 and our set builders we're fantastic at designing and building sets so it look extremely realistic. Leading from backstage into the dining room were a pair of huge doors which the director had insisted were both opened when we entered the room. This was fine other than once we'd let go of the doors they slammed shut and made the whole set wobble. Mr. Director wasn't happy about this so David was ordered to find a successful way of making the doors shut quickly, without banging, without using anything that wouldn't have been available in 1912. In the end it was decided that as we stepped through the door we should turn, grab the door handles, and close the door firmly but gently.
Cue opening night. Ann, as Mrs Birling, flings open the doors and storms in to give her line. As she turns and grabs the door handles they both come off in her hand! I'm stood getting a drink at the time (flat ginger ale as whisky) so I turn my back to audience and try not to piss myself. Jayne pretends to wipe her mouth with a serviette. The others look around wondering what she's going to do. She calmly and strongly walks across the stages, slams the handles on the dining table and says "Arthur I'm sick of telling you to sort these bloody door handles out!" turning to me she continues, "Gerald maybe you could do it at some point as I can't trust that drunk of a son of mine!" She then gave the line she'd actually come in to for.
Only certain members of the audience actually realised what had happened and there was a small titter racing from the front to the back and that would have been the end of it. If it wasn't for Jayne! A very few short minutes later she picked up one of the door handles, thinking it was a salt shaker. Not knowing what to do she just shook it over her dinner, tutted and exclaimed it to be empty, slammed it on the table and carried on as normal.
During the interval Janet reprimanded us all for our on-stage conduct even though we all thought we'd done quite well. Ann got a round of applause and lots of "well done's" and the director appeared pleased with how things had gone so far although we could see him chomping at the bit with David on stage behind the curtain trying to reattach the door handles.
Now with theatre the sad thing is that these bloopers often don't get caught on tape. You only have the image I've created to get an idea of the mistakes made and how funny they are (well I think they are). Although you can still make your own mind up you can't see it or see how funny I think it is. You can't rewind to the funniest bits or skip the rubbish.
Thankfully, with film, you can capture those moments that make you giggle. In celebration of that (and the main reason for this post in the first place) here is something I was sent this morning that I find quite funny.
]]>
Neither of them are me.
The L of Landers is a capital i.
This would be someone's idea of fun. I wonder who?
Anyway, the good thing is that using that header is copyright infringement given that I designed it so hopefully BCUK will furnish me with the owners details and then I can pass this on to my solicitor. And there was me wondering what I could do to get some money for a new car. Compensation would be the answer!
Of course they do say plagiarism is the highest form of compliment. Maybe I should be pleased?
It goes without saying that you should under no circumstance think this is me and ignore anything posted on it. I'm flagging it and inappropriate, I'd love you to do the same. It's infringement given that it's my header and my profile pictures. 
On Wednesday we we're back in Wales for the wedding of some close friends of ours. The friends are the dirty lesbians so it wasn't a proper wedding it was one of them there civil partnerships those disgusting queer people go through! Personally I don't think it should be allowed and I totally agree with what someone once said to me which was "all gays should be stuck on an island and left to bum themselves to death!" Well I'm in!
So the wedding was lovely. Both Vicky and Denise looked radiant and so happy! The registrar made the event go with ease and was very accommodating and as it was only a small family affair once the ceremony were over with we all went back to the girls to enjoy drinks and enough food to feed the five thousand.
Of course with these being our friends that breed labradors, bassets and Rottweilers then the obligatory moment with a puppy came later on in the evening.
Here's a few snapshots of the day and a puppy video to coo over.
]]>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author: fatprickpartridge (IP: 66.35.1.170, tor-exit-router.viol8r.org)
Email: anon@fatprickpartridge.com
Url:
Comment:
Hello fat prick partridge. do you still think i am in manchester? your not very clever are you? must be sad, being as fat as you, and being stupid to. maybe thats why you have to stay up all night on the internet. then again being as fat as you are your probably impetent, makes sense really. so that would mean it would only be a waste of time telling you to go fuck yourself, because i doubt you could, i really do.
when are you going to look at yourself and realise just what a totally dissgusting, degraded piece of shit you really are. have a nice night fat prick, maybe i'l see you around.
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They just get better! Well, the content does, the spelling and grammar doesn't but you can't ask for everything.
Well, I'll reply..
I never said you were in Manchester, I said the IP address pointed to Manchester. My IP Address points to Dublin but I'm not there jackass. No, it's not sad being fat. Haven't you heard? Fat people are jolly, it's skinny fucks that are sad. Stupid? Well that's a matter of opinion. I'm not the one sending these comments so who's the stupid one? Stay up all night on the internet? I was at work dumbshit. In my job I get to use the internet, I don't have to stack shelves or look for a barcode. It's a professional position. What were you doing? Hiding from mommy in case she saw you on the computer past your bedtime?
You know weight isn't associated with impotence don't you? It can be bought on by people who hold on to too much stress. I don't really have that problem as I don't hang on to my stress. Not even your messages stress me. You're upset about that aren't you. Never mind. When you're all grown up and not so much of a baby you'll get over it.
I don't think I'm disgusting, neither do quite a few other people. It's your opinion though, you're entitled to it. My opinion thinks that people will find you more disgusting than me.
Now, this will be the last blog entry about this situation because I'm not prepared to give it any more time. If you're her then grow up and fuck off you pathetic child. You bought this on yourself with your lies. Be a grown up and face the truth. If you're not her, and again I don't care, then be a grown up and show yourself. Roll with the big boys as you put it and stop hiding you pathetic wimp. Name calling and hiding behind an IP address? Is that all you can muster up? You fucking child. Bring it out of the playground you fuck whore! If you want to take it further you have my email address. If you want to remain the pathetic child everyone thinks you are then carry on with the unapproved comments. No one but me will see them and I don't care about them. You'll get no more attention here child. Now fuck off bitter baby.
]]>Coming soon....
The BB emails! See how she cries over Robbie not loving her as much as she loves him! Read the things she'd do to the McFly boys! Listen as she tells you it's her last night on the earth... four years ago! And laugh as she explains its her mothers email address so to be careful how you reply! Each on in glorious detail, the to's and from's, the subject and the content! Read it all here!
The only reason was that I may have been mistaken about the author so to that end I've deleted it.
I'm now getting "harassed," as it were, from a blogger called Zukth-Fu.
I've flagged them as inappropriate and it's been deleted now, ether by the author or BCUK, either way is good.
The messages (unapproved blog comments) are going to continue, or so I'm told, because apparently he/she "likes pushing useless fat shits around."
If I'm reading between the lines correctly then I've already gone down in his/her/it's estimations by deleting the other post. Apparently it's back-tracking. Well not really dumbshit, it's correcting a situation. Something you and a certain skank should learn to do.
This idiot also seems to get enjoyment from calling me gay and fat.
But but but… pointing out the obvious… please don't, you might hurt me!
Christ, if you'd ever read my blog properly or even been told the correct information from the skank then you'd know things like that don't bother me.
At one point it says "thought I'd see if you could roll with the big boys" well love, the big boys usually know how to spell as they've finished school. The big boys don't hide behind a blank blog user id. The big boys usually put a face to the name. You're not a big boy. You're just a cunt.
I await the next comment, none of which will be approved.
]]>Eventually the emails turned into stories of self-harm and suicide. In any normal situation I'd have paid attention and maybe replied with something supportive but these were quite obviously the cold and calculated thoughts of a drama queen. I've done enough training in various aspects of of the topic to be able to tell the difference. In fact, when you know the signs it's quite easy. In the end I stopped replying at all and had most of them rerouted to my junk mail with auto-responders sent out to say it was being considered junk or just ignored. Still they came. The writing on her blog was of the same style, self harm and suicide, and again was quite obviously just someone out for as much attention as they could get. I didn't want to read the crap she was writing and didn't want anything to do with her so I bumped her from my friends list.
A little while later we had a run-in because she thought her opinion overruled mine. Take a look: it was ridiculous. She is the 'deleted user'. http://juzzzy.blog.co.uk/2009/06/25/michael-jackson-is-dead-6392147/
Last week, a 'new' blogger started commenting on my blog. From her writing style and, not surprisingly, her photograph, it was clearly her. Although challenged several times, she denied being the same person as all the other identities, but it's definitely her. Also, she has a much too intimate knowledge of Groups to be the new user she claims to be.
So. She was commenting on my blog, annoying me, and I told her where to go before deleting her comments. I thought that would be the end if it. How wrong I was!
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I dont feel very welcome here
by AlwaysHisGirl @ 08.10.2009 – 03:28:52
New private message on blog.co.uk
From: blog.co.uk (info@blog.co.uk)
Sent: 07 October 2009 01:31:55
To: me
Dear AlwaysHisGirl,
There is a new message waiting for you
in the Blog Messaging System.
From: LandersUK http://www.blog.co.uk/user/LandersUK
Subject: fuck off
You really are self obsessed stupid Fucking bitch! Stop creating new profiles, stop harping on about how Fucking bad life is for you, stop commenting on my blog, and my friend's blog stop being so Fucking pathetic, stop going on about self harm and suicide and stop annoying every one! Just Fuck off and kill yourself! . You are not welcome on BCUK!
so... am I welcome here? I am only asking because some say I am not.
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This appeared on the Ask or Answer group blog, the Stepping Stones (depression support) group blog, and apparently more than once on her own blog, as private posts. Thankfully they have both been deleted.
A few points to bear in mind:
First and foremost, if I'd actually sent the PM AlwaysHisGirl is posting everywhere, I'd admit it. In fact, here and now, I am proud to say that yes, some of the words in that PM are mine. But, and this is a big but, I never told her she should kill herself, and I never told her she wasn't welcome on BCUK - just my blog. The capitalised Fucks? Not mine either. One capital F could be a typo, but all of them? It's a really bad cut and paste job. Look at the full stop/exclamation mark collision at the end - classic sign that a sentence has been pasted in.
I did tell her to stop creating new profiles but I actually didn't swear, at all. Strange for me I know but I thought if I sounded calmer she might take it more serious. I told her she was not welcome on my blog, not on BCUK. I wouldn't consider myself to have that right. I would also never tell anyone to kill themselves. I think the world and his mother knows that's not me.
Also, it wasn't a PM. I replied to a comment of hers on my blog, and then deleted her first comment, which got rid of everything that came after it. This means I don't have a copy of the comment I sent, unfortunately.
At the time I supposedly sent this message, I was in a bungalow halfway up a mountain in Wales with no landline, let alone an Internet connection. My iPhone was not online either, before you ask - O2 Ireland charge way too much for data roaming. The actual comment was sent and deleted on the 5th - the last time I had access to my laptop, which I left in Ireland.
I think the most compelling evidence that AlwaysHisGirl is a total nutjob is here, though:
That is a screenshot of her profile page. If you look closely, you'll see that the link to send a PM is missing. It must be set to friends only. Now, as utterly fantastic as I am, even I can't magic myself onto someone's friend list in order to send a nastygram.
(click image for a bigger version)
The places she posted the edited comment were obviously chosen to try to heap the maximum amount of humiliation onto me. Well, AlwaysHisGirl is a nasty, vindictive, and apparently stupid individual, and I'm glad she's finally shown her true colours so publicly.
At least when I'm being a cunt, I'm honest about it.
I'm not asking anyone to take sides. I know she is on some of your friends lists but please just don't listen to everything she says and take it as gospel. Remember there are two sides to every story.
And to AlwaysHisGirl - as I know you're reading - if you want to carry this on then do so on your own blog in public entries like I am. Not on group blogs or in private. If you think you're so right then stand up for what you believe in and stop being a lying vile little tramp and hiding behind private entires. This best thing you can do now is drop it. Don't comment here, don't blog anymore about it and don't read my blog. I don't read yours as I don't like you, you don't like me so don't read mine. Even you should be able to understand that one!
]]>There is currently a post on the Ask or Answer blog that is about me.
It displays a private message I apparently sent.
I'd like to say now, quickly, before I fly, that the private message displayed is a lie. I did not send a private message, I replied to a comment on my own blog.
Later, when I'm home, I will do a bigger entry and fill you all in on the actual story.
I'd like to say I don't care what you believe but I actually do and I'd like to think that those of you who have met me, who know me or have gotten close to me during my bloglife will be able to see the truth between the lies.
If her task was to piss me off then it worked and she can gloat in her satisfactionthat I'm angry, angry enough to go through the old emails she sent and go to the Tescos she works in and publically call her a bitch. I have five weeks before we're back in the UK so that's plenty of time Miss. Brown.
If her task was to try and make me leave blog or lose friends then I highly doubt this will happen.
I apologise if you feel you've been dragged into this.
]]>Over at http://PopQuiz.blog.co.uk/
Enjoy!
]]>
I was once part of a stand-up comedy duo. A friend and I wrote our own routines, made our own props and became our own managers. I was the stooge and she was the straight-man, well straight-woman. We had a few gigs in various comedy clubs and actually did quite well even if I do say so myself. In the end my priorities changed and we called it a day. How far would we have got if we'd stayed together? Would we be on the big comedy circuit right now? I doubt it. There are too many good comedy acts out there, as good as we may have been I don't think we'd have been one of them.
I met Jo through a radio station I used to work for. Jo used to do the mid-morning show on a Monday to Friday and I would do evenings from 8pm to 12am. Sometimes I'd engineer for Jo as she wasn't fantastic at working the desk and couldn't cue up an advert for love or money. In the end we got offered our own show on Saturday and Sunday mornings. We had a lot of fun and in part it was this that lead to our stand-up stuff but the radio station was changing and neither of us liked where it was going. Jo had her daytime show taken off her when the station was sold to one of the major media companies and her slot was given over to the new station manager. My slot was changed from 7-10pm and Jo & I lost our Sunday. Jo was the best interviewer the station had and taking her away from the mid-morning show, our 3rd most popular show, was stupid. Jo left soon after and no one could blame her. I haven't spoken to her in fourteen years. I wonder what she's up to now. 
I used to play rugby for the school. If I'd have carried it on would I be some hulking great rugby player now or would I be sat next to Martin Johnson as a pundit talking about the game we'd just watched. At my mothers house, tucked away at the back of a cupboard I have a medal for playing for playing for the school. I wonder if it's worth wearing it when Brad and I get married, you know how service men wear their uniform and medals. Maybe I should turn up in rugby gear.
There are many other things I've done that I could have done differently and many other opportunities that maybe shouldn't have been ignored but I am quite happy where I am thank you. Look at what I've got! How could I not be happy?
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As some of you will know I'm a course through work. This course has eight modules to it and yesterday and today we began Module Two. Intellectual Disability Studies.
What we have learnt over two days could have been taught in half a day. We were basically taught how to fill in a work book. A work book that comes with a second book. The second book teaches you how to fill in the work book.
This is why I've had to suffer a tax increase and pension levy! A pension levy that only health workers, teachers and the guards are having by the way! Why only us? Because we're public servants and our job is secure! No it fucking isn't! My job is just as at risk as those in the private sector! Wankers!
Anyway, aside from spending the 1st morning filling a page with stars we did actually learn a few things. Nothing eligible for work or the course but still learning is learning.
I have learnt that some people who work in our industry are judgemental bastards who may not harm a client or service user but given one story I've heard I have to wonder what psychological damage they are doing! Thankfully this is no one in our service!
I have learnt that he who shouts loudest wins. Wrong but true.
I have learnt that my manager, even with his faults, is far superior to others and I'm damn lucky!
All the names have been changed in the following stories.
Story One
Patrick works in a different county for a similar organisation. Every day he deals with young adults who need support due to a learning difficult or physical disability. A few weeks ago he headed off on a train to visit some friends. He told us this story:
"While waiting for the train two guys went passed me in wheelchairs. A train came in, not mine by the way, people got off and some got on and then it left. The two guys in the wheelchairs didn't get on. They head off the platform and as they passed me I said about how disgusting it is that they couldn't get on the train. They said they didn't want to they just waiting for someone and I said sorry as they head off. The next train comes in, again not mine, and a girl in a wheelchair gets off. She looks around as though lost and confused and I assume she's looking for the two guys. I head over to her and say "Your friends have just gone down there," and I point off the platform.
"What?" she asks.
"Your friends. The two guys. They head off the platform. I think they're over there," I tell her.
"I'm sorry I don't understand."
"Are you looking for two men in wheelchairs?"
"No!"
"Then why do you look so lost and confused?"
"I've got off at the wrong fucking stop!"
As I sat back down I saw the two guys on the other platform talking with a man who just got off the train."
When Patrick told his story the people sat around him in the lecture room actually laughed but talking to one of the other girls we were both amazed at his attitude. He'd made two incorrect assumptions that if he'd made at work he'd be reprimanded for. First off why assume that the guys couldn't get on the train just because they didn't? He didn't get on two trains! Should we assume he was stuck to his seat? Secondly how dare he assume that because she was in wheelchair she must be meeting the other guys!
Now, for someone who has never worked with anyone with any form of disability or had any connection with anyone with that background I can kind of understand how that assumption might be made and I'd be forgiving but this guy works with people who need support due to a disability! He should know better! How does he still have a job?
Story Two
Janet, like Patrick, works in a similar field with a similar client base in a residential house in a different county for a different organisation. There they have someone who goes home one weekend a year. The family have applied for a grant for an extension to their house so they are better equipped to cope with this resident when he goes home. He goes home without support! I don't mean that they kick him out the door and say "Seeya Monday!" but I mean that no staff stay with him. He has a sufficient level of independence and enough family support to cope without staff. So, one weekend a month a year he goes and home and the family are applying for a grant to deal with that weekend better. A grant of €35'000 has been approved.Questions:
1. Have assessments been done of the family home to see if it's already suitable?
2. Have the family been assessed to see how good the family support is?
3. Has the awarding body seen the plans of the current home?
4. Has the awarding body seen the plans of the proposed extension?
5. Will the family take the client, their son, for more weekends once extension is built?
6. Has the client been asked if he wants to go home more than one weekend a year?
7. Has the client been asked if he wants to stay in a purpose built extension?
8. Has the client been consulted at all with regard to any of this.
The answer to all of these questions is the same. No.
Why is Janet not speaking up? If this family are getting the extension they should be able to care for the relatives themselves. From the way she spoke it sounds like he is independent enough to look after his own hygiene needs and can even make himself meals and drinks he just needs support in certain areas that even the most basic family could cope with - especially with a €35k extension!
Yet another reason why my wage packet has gone down by over 10% since April and will go down again as of October!
Story Three
Tommy
used to work on the docksworks in a similar environment to Janet and Patrick. His manager insisted that one of their clients be given a mobile phone and taught how to use it. Tommy argued there was no need but the manager forced his hand. Given how many times the client uses the house phone it was deemed that €10 credit a week would be plenty and the client was taught how to use it and how to top it up. Everything went swimmingly. The client knew how to use the phone and how to top up and knew that €10 a week was plenty. Six months later a review takes place, as it does with our service users as well.
"And how is he getting on with the mobile phone?" asks the manager.
"Oh fine. He puts his €10 credit on every Friday and that lasts him the week," replies Tommy.
"Can I see the phone?" asks the manager.
Tommy goes and collects it and hands it to the manager.
"How do I get the balance up?" he asks.
"I'm not sure," replies Tommy, "why?" "It's mid week, I just want to see if he uses it all by the weekend and has nothing for the week."
Eventually they work out how to get a credit balance. The balance is €236 euros. It would appear the client never uses it. There are only four calls in the call log, all to the house phone, all dated six months ago when Tommy was teaching the client how to use the phone. The client thinks that whether the phone is used or not he has to put €10 on it.
Whether you are dealing with someone with learning difficulties or not there is a simple thing you can do to make the person feel respected. Ask!
It doesn't matter if the person has a diagnosis of Autism, Asperger Syndrome, Fragile X, ABI or self-diagnosed fake bi-polar! You still ask, you don't decide for them! Even when you know they can't make the decision themselves you still go through the motions of asking because this could be the one time they know what they want and are capable of deciding! If I asked one of our service users if he wanted to get on the bus with another service user he'd say no! He'd flatly refuse! He knows his mind. He knows if he wants tea or coffee, cheese or ham and he knows what clothes he wants to wear. I don't make these choices for him. He makes them. He makes them because I ask him to!
Now the client Tommy was dealing with was even more capable of making his own choices than the lads I deal with. Our lads couldn't have a mobile phone. Three of them can't verbally communicate well enough and the other wouldn't be able to learn how to use it. The manager was at fault in Tommy's story and he should have been reprimanded for it. I agree that Tommy is partially to blame for this as he obviously didn't teach the client correctly but did anyone ask him if he wanted a mobile phone? No they didn't! The manager just decided to do it one day and no one could argue about it. With that in mind why did Tommy have to pay the client back €230? Just tell the client to start using the phone to use up the credit and stop paying €10 a week! Tommy argued but was told either pay it back or they'll take out his wages.
Fucking managers!
With what I've heard over the last two days I can honestly say the place I work in is fantastic. No, I'm not saying that's because of me, but yes I am going to take a small bit of that credit. The staff (99% of them!) are damn good at their jobs and they need telling that! Maybe it's the training we've had, maybe it's the support we get, either way I could happily assure all our families that their loved ones get the best care. Christ, we put up with beatings and go back for more! We get covered in shit and don't quit! We spend our own money on the lads and give up our own time to go out with them and not get paid for it.
We rule!
]]>Right now I'm on a course through work and during some group work, when we'd actually finished doing the work, me and another guy on the course got to talk about lunch and what we were planning on eating. One thing lead to another and we started talking about the things we had eaten in the past.
I revealed that I'd once eaten what looked like a prawn cracker but turned out to be a sperm cracker at a fetish exhibition. I've no idea what fetish this fulfilled but it didn't taste all that bad although I was little shocked when I found out.
So as I'm as bored as hell here are some facts about semen.
Semen Facts:
- It can stain. Always wash in COLD water.
- A black light will show semen.
- A single ejaculation has an average of 200-500 million sperm in it.
- Semen is okay if you are on the Atkins diet.
- The average speed of a shooting ejaculation is 23 mph.
- A woman's mood can be elevated to 'happy' by frequent exposure to semen.
- Pineapple, watermelon, cranberries, and sweet fruit can improve the taste of semen.
- Semen is usually a cloudy white fluid that within 30 minutes becomes runny and clear.
- A chlorine type smell in semen is normal.
- The taste is slightly sweet due to fructose.
- The taste of semen tends to change slightly from person to person.
- A study conducted by American scientists in Newscientists.com among 30,000 men over eight years found those that ejaculated most frequently have had significantly less chances of getting prostate cancer.
- Semen contains small amounts of more than thirty elements, including fructose, ascorbic acid, cholesterol, creatine, citric acid, lactic acid, nitrogen, vitamin B12, and various salts and enzymes.
- Blue whales produce four hundred gallons of semen with each ejaculation.
]]>
We arrived to view the venue at 10.30am as booked and we're greeted by the duty manager. I knew the events manager wasn't available as she'd already told me the night before that she wouldn't be about but I only wanted to look at the rooms and maybe get a price so it didn't matter too much.
The events manager, Niamh, had told me that the dates I wanted had already been pre-booked by two other couples but they were only pencilled in so she'd call them to see if they'd made their mind up. I explained to her that I'd rather have my party on the actual date of my birthday what with it being a Saturday and all that but I'd be happy to change it if need be. I'd happily have it the week before or even week after if it meant I could have the venue I wanted.
I've been to the Galway Bay Hotel quite a few times now. The Duggan's wedding, meetings, nights out for drinks and such like and I've always been impressed by everything. Quite literally everything. The place always looks stunning, the staff are always nice and friendly.
It's all that which makes me want my birthday there.
It's all that which makes it so much worse when the treatment we got today was so awful.
I don't think I've ever felt more unwanted! If I didn't know better I'd swear she was trying to stop us from booking the place. I came home with a couple of brochures on a different hotel, miles away in County Westmeath, rather than gorgeous Galway.
I didn't get a price but I did get a brochure on booking a conference. Interestingly enough Niamh told me that if I wanted a seated dinner the room she had in mind will hold 250. I told her there would just be a buffet and she said that it would hold many more then. This was great as it was the room I wanted.CED736FFD/view-of-galway-bay-just.jpg" alt="view-of-galway-bay-just.jpg" />
Today the duty manager tells me it will only just hold 200 and not really many more for a buffet. The website gives a third figure.
She also told me that they try to save Friday, Saturday and Sundays for wedding so could I possible have my birthday midweek? Well no, not really, I want it at the weekend so my friends can come!
So now I have a dilemma. I really want my 40th at the hotel but I don't think I want the shite (look I said shite and not shit!) service or weekday party.
Do I compromise or do I find a different venue?
I think I'll end up finding a different venue given that I've still yet to hear off Niamh or anyone else. All I really wanted was a price but overtime I ask I get fobbed off with another question.
What makes it worse is that the course I'm attending today is the same hotel and I'm heaven. I'm sat in the lounge looking out over Galway Bay and the Atlantic Ocean and it's lovely. I want the bloody party here but I will not have it midweek. As if she'd even suggest such a thing!
]]>
Today I'm off to view the venue for my 40th birthday in 2013. Yes I'm planning well in advance but I want it at the Galway Bay Hotel and it gets booked up REALLY quickly. So quickly in fact that the date I want (June 1st) is already pencilled in for someone else, two people in fact, but she's going to contact them and see if they really want it or not.
So for your information..
Quite literally EVERYONE is invited. If you can read this then you're invited. Now although you're invited you will need a ticket. I need to know numbers for the caterers so I'm going to give out tickets rather than invites that way I can know who and how many are coming and I can stop gate-crashers. Yes, you will need a ticket to get in. No ticket, no party. Harsh, maybe but I'm paying a fortune for this place and the food and the entertainment so I think I'm entitled.
Well more details on how to get a ticket and all that will be available shortly but I'm off to look at the room now! Oooh excited!
]]>