the manoeuvre this morning was pretty standard. I was in the cycle lane approaching a junction with 2 lanes of traffic, those who were turning left and those going straight ahead…white van man was in the straight ahead lane and the inside lane was clear. A bus in front of him was taking a while to pull off so white van man pulled out into the inside lane without stopping and cut me up so i had to jump off my bike and grab it up onto the pavement to stop me and it getting crushed….did he apologise…do i have to answer that?

However, much to my joy A pedestrian having witnessed what had just happened stormed up to the van which had been trapped at the lights and kicked the door panel while telling the driver what a useless wanker he was…I would like to say thankyou to the kind and very angry man. It made my morning ride a little more entertaining.

I have been thinking about the food chain on the london roads…whatever happens cyclists are always the bottom of the chain…we have to put up with pedestrians stepping out, oblivious due to having their iPod on and not looking, cars, taxis, mopeds, buses, bendybuses, trucks…it made me think about the closing speech in team america….

Dicks – Ipod wearing pedestrians

Pussies – cyclists

Assholes – All vehicles

We’re dicks! We’re reckless, arrogant, stupid dicks. And cyclists are pussies. And all vehicles are assholes. Pussies don’t like dicks, because pussies get fucked by dicks. But dicks also fuck assholes: assholes that just want to shit on everything. Pussies may think they can deal with assholes their way. But the only thing that can fuck an asshole is a dick, with some balls. The problem with dicks is: they fuck too much or fuck when it isn’t appropriate – and it takes a pussy to show them that. But sometimes, pussies can be so full of shit that they become assholes themselves… because pussies are an inch and half away from ass holes. I don’t know much about this crazy, crazy world, but I do know this: If you don’t let us fuck this asshole, we’re going to have our dicks and pussies all covered in shit!

Let me introduce the smelly 50 something ‘animal woman’ mostly found to reside in country villages or terraced houses in towns where they hoard everything imaginable and millions of cats/dogs/ferrets etc etc…The dress code is country casual  – high waisted trousers ( usually resulting in a camels hoof), fleece waistcoat or zip up top over rugby shirt with collar up, some sort of waterproof to make sure their body odour heats up and radiates out through their fleece underlayer… Team this with classic english pear shape where the weight is firmly focused around the hips and stomach, (breasts around the base of the distended belly) Short unkempt hair, glasses too small for their face with high magnification lenses making their eyes look even more bizarre. ….This is the sight that greats me and makes my stomach sink and my preconceptions jump to “this woman is going to be a pain in the arse”

Team the above with a loud and persistent groaning escaping from her on regular intervals and a total inability to get a sentence out without ummmmmmmmm ing about a million times.

I am in fixed grin mode with a tear forming at the corner of my eye.

She then produces one of our products after rifling through the many plastic bags (and probably a few dead animals) within her ruck sack and presents it to me with another long rambling (PAINFUL) description of what is wrong with it. I check the product and find that it is broken because she has mashed the switch completely through the mechanism…for want of an easy life I give her a replacement and advise her to be gentle with it….

Inside I hope this is the end of it, she will be suitably grateful and leave quickly.

OH NO dear reader…that would be too easy.

Instead she goes back to rifling through her bag , past a few more dead animals and plastic bags and pulls out something wrapped in a tescos bag. As she hands it to me she goes through another torturous speech about how she knows this item is not from our shop but as we “are that kind of shop” I may know how to fix it and be able to fix it for her….I am immediately expecting another mangled object which has endured her heavy handed love (poor kittys)  And sure enough the said item has seen better days.

It is a clock from the RSPCA with a different bird at each number. The idea being that when the hand reaches the hour each bird will sing – Nice (!)

She asks me if I can turn it down for her. (Oh God) I point out that she can take out the battery to the speaker so she wont have to have the bird sound…No – she says -  I want it, just not loud. (oh god, please let this be over soon) I point out that it is an encased speaker. (I do not point out that it is a cheap ass product and there is no lower volume option – just on (like the voices in your head!!) or off like when I throw it in the river and tell you to go fetch so you have an excuse to smell like wet dog…PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE CRAZY LADY)

This still is not then end of her time with me….after this she goes on fumbling her way around the shop…other customers leave when they come within smelling distance of her and the noise of her making strange sex noises. Finally after about 15 minutes she leaves…relieved doesnt even cut it.

5 minutes later I get a call….

Caller: Hello is that casting Aspersions?

yes I say.

Caller: How are you? ( I know now it is going to be a sales call – they always try to sleaze up)

Me: Im fine

Caller: So, we love your product …… (amusingly they even get the product name wrong so I correct her)

Caller: oh, yes, thats the name…well we have prepared a really good article all about the product and its going to have a big feature in the next month of business weekly (seriously??!! how many people read that if it even exists)

Me: Ok…

Caller: Its all ready to go to press we just need to let you know about the small fee for the colour processing of the article?!!!!

Me to her: Um, no we dont pay for press. Click, brrrr

Me internal dialogue: WTF? Do you think I was born yesterday go fuck yourself and your scumbag scam merchant peddlers of filth and misery.. ONE DAY the karma will get you. HOW DO these people carry on these practices without getting shut down…how do they even start up. it makes me so angry as they prey on people who may not know any better.

Arseholes…Im waiting to see this big Karma retribution thing happen and take down all the scum that ruin peoples lives like this….tantrum and rant over.

By the way as -  I  am on a rant I  listened to an interesting programme on the radio this morning about paying drug addicted people to go on long term birth control or sterilisation to prevent them from having lots of children they cant care for and / or dont want to care for who are born with defects and addictions….I know all the arguments about social justice and the like but I couldnt disagree with the principle too much…would even argue extending it to people who refuse to get off benefits their entire lives…..but then I would be donning my little hitler moustache and heading off to Auschwitz to line em all up two by two…I’M JOKING!

Everybody needs a pikey dole scum in their life -  middle class comfort would be unbearable without it and we would miss the struggle to pay our taxes….ohhhh, ok Im going to stop now.

Nigeria is not big on gay rights..or even admitting that gays exist, so actually witnessing the act was quite a shock for my hygiene maintenance chum. He came forth with these pearls of wisdom on why he thinks men are gay…because; he insists. It is not natural and people cannot be born to be gay.

1. “These ‘gays’ cannot handle a woman”

2. “They do not know how to make love to a woman (and) They are scared to make love to a woman” (Uh, durrr?! try physically repulsed)

And most dubiously….

3. ” They can fight with/abuse a man but not with a woman”

So back to the gay not being natural and you cannot be born to be ” a gay” I argued that I think that people are born with a natural sexual disposition be it gay, straight, bi, trans…peado even (dark subject) . That it is also common to be Bi or ‘bendy’ as I like to call it.  Especially amongst woman as they are alot more sexually liberated than men (men have penetration hangups me thinks)

This generated another classic response…

” No! and you know how I know I am right? because you never got gays before the modern day…you dont get them in history”

Me: ” Um…maybe we should google Ancient civilisations so you can have a little read about their antics”

Him after having read about ancient civilisations antics…

“oh, See, that is why it is good to have arguments – you learn new things. I still do not think it is natural.”

Me (to myself) ” Aww bless”

Why is it women lose the ability to piss in the toilet when they use a public loo?  Seriously if I see another toilet seat covered in piss and left without a wipe I am going to go mental…

In summary. Redundancy in Dec 2008 saw my life change quite drasticaly from a (relativly) high flying job doing what I loved and comfortable lifestyle to match to working in a pub and trying to find any other freelance work to pay my mortgage and bills. Them’s the breaks. And to be honest I think it has all been a positive experience.

I wouldnt swop the friends I have made and (most of) the times I have had. Anyhew…the position I am now in saw a move to the southbank where I designed and built my current bolthole.

Now,  I am a farmers daughter and of ‘athletic’ build;  good Irish stock and believe in getting my hands dirty, pulling my weight and not ever…under any circumstances playing the pathetic girly card to get out of work.  So when it came to the building works I was carrying the  sheets of ply and plasterboard and covered in as much dust and crap as the boys (my ‘ Son’ and his Dad) * my son adopted me as his ‘mummy’ when we worked together in the pub on account of him being the youngest and me the oldest. I am as proud of him as if he is my own flesh and blood and love him dearly*

These early days building the unit saw the introduction of  ‘the cleaner’ into my life. He took a great interest in my ‘strength and stature’ and told me so…enter first hilarious comment him to me>>>” you have such good stature, like a man, you are so strong”

Now I am used to getting comments or assumptions about my stature and sexual orientation but that was the most direct and amusing one I had heard in a long time. Since then (over the last 6 months) The cleaner and I have forged a friendship and share daily chats and encounters. Some strange…alot amusing and some slightly frightening…yes folks…this is not all sunshine.

He is unrelenting in his persual of me despite my constant knock backs and explanations that I am quite happy on my own.  I can share lots of tales of things he has said and done in the past..most noatably on the wrong side -  he locked me in the public loos when it was just me and him in there…On the good side we chat about cultural differences and both learn new things from each other.

He has offered me babies! I show him how to use his facebook and fix his laptop for him and so on and so forth.

So to bring you up to date. I have always loved the film Breathless and had a poster from it in my living room for years. I have lately developed a Jean Seberg fetish and decided to go and get my hair cut like hers yesterday. In a fit of january crazy I then dyed it from (natural) rich dark brown  & hints of grey to honey blonde. See picture of the desired effect. I can dream that I look like Jean now!

I dream of Jeanie

I shall now paste in the email sent to my remote colleagues that started this whole blog thing…and now we are up to date…ready to start afresh.

todays classic comment (s) from the cleaner

For those of you who do not know I had yesterday afternoon off as I am
covering the shop  on saturday. D worked the afternoon for me,
I went into town to get some stuff done I wanted to do on saturday.

I had a haircut and went blonde.

First comment was on D;

” Is your friend gay?”
me: “no”
him: ” why does he look so gay then?”

Then on my hair ( and this is in context with him getting far too close for comfort and after many dodgy encounters before)

“it is so nice, you look like a model”
” it looks so tasty, I just want to lick it”

Oh god!

Yesterday he said ” you are a big woman”

The day before ” You are so like a man?!”

He seems to not be able to make up his mind on my gender while repetadly making sexual advances which I strenuosly defend myself against…all the while making various degrees of inappropriate comments.

Keeps me entertained anyway!

Over and out