October 29, 2004
mighty task, that
no, i'm not delving into the subject of sheep though it is inevitable whenever the topic on wales is brought up.
anyhooo, ian rush is putting himself up for the wales gaffer job.
crikey
telly programme code for asian golf tourney: GOAT
the mental image is very very utterly disturbing.
October 28, 2004
warblin' along
in the midst of utter madness that's sweeping this part of the workplace - thanks very muchly to the MLB *World* Series that ended earlier today at game #4 - off the radio, this very tune that made me blinker's watered:
swing low, sweet chariot
and this is the first time i heard it played on a wee island radio station. i think.
it comes in three's
right now, i'm suffering from:
1. THE gob ulcer
2. a wee paper cut on the thumb
3. a wee bruise on the arm
please i beseech ye's, have pity on moi.
[yeah, ever since when the letter b has turned into a whimperin sod. must be the air around 'ere, i tell ye.]
October 27, 2004
late night?
spotted this off an article about the wee isle going the biometric way, see emphasis:
..The passports are virtually forgery proof and will be an improvement on the security features that were introduced into Singapore passports in October 1999. Those passports have digital photogs and special ink to foil forgers...
the letter b's definitive definition of photogs: mugshots of effin' ugly wotsits.
ouch
i'm nursin' this rather monstrous mouth ulcer, and i must say that it is a very evil thingy ever inflicted on humans. of course i'm whingeing 'cos i can't snack on my favourite thingies as much as i'd like to.
and i'm feeling oh-so-irritable that i just have to throttle anyone who ambles past me cubefarm.
October 26, 2004
currently listenin' 2
check this site out for the full playlist. one can well imagine how chuffed i was to see it by chance. when i walked aimlessly in to the cd shop earlier today.
i was really enamoured over 'em back then, just before i sat for my 'O' levels. after i first heard "people are people". and then "everything counts" and "master and servant". not that the lads were fit, it's the broodingly dark, between-the-lines tunes.
sample the following, off "everything counts":
...
The graph
On the wall
Tells the story
Of it all
Picture it now
See just how
The lies and deceit
Gained a little more power
Confidence
Taken in
By a sun tan
And a grin
...
i was so enamoured with 'em that i fancied becoming their fifth unofficial member. as a keyboardist.
some real fanciful thought, that.
October 25, 2004
break, broke, broken
apols for the silence, folks. me braincells took a well-deserved rest from work today and tomorrow, that's why.
seriously, it's my business that's keeping me away. i'm fine-tuning the marketing tools required to attract customers as we speak. and will be meeting a mate tomorrow who i hope will help me to spread the mantra.
briefly, the business is all about how to give pesky but mostly dimwitted wee islander's stick. in other words, "intercultural awareness" in its politically correct form.
no, i have not quit the day job as yet as it's rather early days. though it is extremely hard to not wallop the gaffer - and his 23-year-old slapper-face mistress also - whenever he's within a 100-yard radius.
and no, it is not easy juggling two jobs simultaneously. can't wait for the day when i finally am me own gaffer.
finger's and toe's crossed.
October 23, 2004
rats!
nicked off the guardian's the northerner:
Across the Pennines, rats are running amok in the sewers of Yorkshire. According to the Yorkshire Post, Hull officials are levelling the blame at Yorkshire Water, which they say have failed to fulfil their responsibility to bait the rodents. Research by Hull Council has shown that since Yorkshire Water employed private contractors rather than the council to deal with the rat population, rodent numbers in Richmondshire, York, Doncaster and Sheffield as well as Hull have increased year-on-year. The council suggests that frequent change in contractor and half-hearted baiting measures are principally to blame for the swell in population.
"The method of hanging poison in plastic bags on string down the manholes is not very effective and is inflicting far fewer casualties on the rats than the former methods of its own staff," reported the Post. The Pied Piper was not available for comment.
i'm not aware that northern rat's are clever :D
some advice
off the kaiser's, a "guide" for clueless blokes on how to treat their spineless albeit delusional bird's nicely.
honestly, bloke's are better off alone unencumbered. than be humiliated by these spoilt mong's of a slag. even if said slag is so effin' minging with really bad teeth, the poor sod has to compliment how "beautiful" she is?!?!??
good grief.
October 22, 2004
wee island idiosyncracies
typical exclamation uttered by responsibility-shirking wee islander's: so how?
example of use of "so how?":
amoeba #1: i don't know how to operate this machine, you know or not?
amoeba #2: i also don't know
amoeba #1 addressing other spastic's within the herd: you all know, or not?
said spastic's all shook their heads and then chorused in unison: .. we also don't know..
amoeba #1: so how?
and then each and every amoeba of said herd turned to look at one another with a blank expression on their sad mug's.
and the letter b will inevitably ask herself in wonderment how the effin' fuck she remains sane all this while.
bring 'em home
i'm utterly repulsed by the news of 850 british troops who are on their way to their death's to, amongst others, "..free up the 650 US marines.." or summat.
someone ought to sort Blair out before he harms the UK further.
and then read what giles has got to say about this complete bollocks.
quibbleworthy
had just rang the cable service provider (CSP) about my monthly payment when the voice machine thingy blurted:
...for more information on the change in sports subscription wotsit, please press 1...
so i asked the utterly polite "customer care" lad what it was all about, only to be told that said package - w.e.f next month - is upped nearly 100%. ie. from *WID8.00 to WID15.75.
WT effin' F? after the right massive quibbling between the CSP and the workplace (TWP) about two months ago, i crossed me fingers hoping for a complete blackout of the english premiership throughout.
and when i received subsequent billing's afterwhich - for the months of september and october - there was no mention of price increase whatsoever, i smelled a rat.
to only gotten a near heart attack when told about it. twice the current amount i'm paying. and i'm very sure the red mist would descend upon alot of subscriber's all over the wee isle.
which is a greater loss to the CSP, can't say for sure if it would be a mighty loss though. but not to TWP certainly.
i tell ye, it's daylight robbery. and the main culprit is TWP.
* wee island dollars
piccy © b_mctavish 1996
cambridge, near to the river cam
October 21, 2004
b_mc.t's sparklin' gem
two-legged amoeba - ain't a pretty sight, innit?
copyrighted stuff geddit? © breanagh mctavish 2003
i lurve this bird
sample this bit with a colleague, took place just moments ago:
the letter b: i don't think i could give you the additional commercial break as it's a 'live' telecast; BUT if i'm not wrong Joe could do his magic on it. a shame he's not in the office today
colleague: hohoho, he did not pass his magic wand to you?
the letter b: no because i'm not qualified as yet
there is hope for humankind after all.
what the eff' is it?
label on the new pair of jeans from my favouritest clobber shop, see emphasis:
LOW RISE BOOTCUT
what exactly did they mean? should there be a correlation between "low" and "rise"?
October 20, 2004
what will they think of next?
spotted on the daily mornin' freebie, of a peopre's lepubrik of wotsit bird's name:
DOLPHIN WOTSIT
really, i'd lurve to ask her if she has got flipper's for limb's.
d'ya know..
...that band aid III - consisting of tunesmith's like travis, coldplay and the darkness - are gonna remake "do they know it's christmas time?"?
i don't quite know how to react towards this piece of news really. it will definitely make me hark back to those good old days twenty years ago.
but surely 'em tunester's could come up with something different?
Lyrics With Performers
(Paul Young)
It's Christmas time
There's no need to be afraid
At Christmas time
We let in light and we banish shade
(Boy George)
And in our world of plenty
We can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world
At Christmas time
(George Michael)
But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones
At Christmas time it's hard
(Simon LeBon)
But when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
(Sting)
And it's a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing is
(Bono joins in)
The bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that are ringing
Are clanging chimes of doom
(Bono only)
Well, tonight thank God it's them instead of you.
(Everyone)
And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time.
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time
Feed the world
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?
(Paul Young)
Here's to you
raise a glass for everyone
Here's to them
underneath that burning sun
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?
Chorus (Everyone)
Feed the world
Feed the world
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time again
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time again
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time again
Repeat
some yarn
the letter b is out re-gathering her scattered brain cells. so in the meanwhile, let this wee tale - written many many many :: ad infinitum :: moons ago - keep you company.
enjoy.
OF CELTS, VIKINGS AND A MOANER OF A SAXON TOMBOY...
"...there has been frequent border skirmishes up north lately. All the men in the village have been at their wits' end, the Celts seems to be getting bolder by the day. And rumours has it that their kin across the Irish Sea are sending reinforcements, wave after wave shiploads of 'em freckled Gingers ["Oi, ye Ginge!" Yeah fill in yer Irish jokes 'ere..]. Adding to our woes, news coming from the south that the Northmen are heading towards the city of York. Having successfully established a mini-kingdom at Anglia, it seems they don't quite get enough. Greedy sods. They'd just lay their grubby mitts on just anything.
Well, those Northmen - some called 'em Norsemen - are gigantic thugs/savages over 7 ft (?) tall, having a penchant for wearing queer looking helmets - with horns that make 'em look absolutely gormless as rams. They are a godless bunch, but of course coming from some place called "Land of the Midnight Sun" - eh? Other sources even quoted that they are gays - oooer!!! Can't blame 'em, can ye, spending months on end at sea. Ye know what these rumours are, rumours with a capital R. But nothing is more annoying than what I heard this morning at the market square: those bunch of cheapo maidens speculating how those Northmen look like. Cor blimey, what absolutely poor taste they've got. Shameless ignorant dimwits. It's absolutely logic defying that they are even allowed to breed. How the hell did they get this far in life????
Father had a reet old flip when I told him that I've made up me mind joining the rest of the fellas at the base near the border. Mother thought I was possessed. It must be that dopey priest who put such thoughts in her mind. Just because I stopped going to church that Father Ted [with a name like that, who's gonna take him seriously?] spread such malicious allegations that I'm straying away from the flock. I pity the congregation for the weekly load of crap he dishes out. I do seriously think that bald pate of his does impair his sense of judgement massively. Or, the strenuous translation from the unintelligible Latin to Anglo-Saxon might had affected him so badly; that he started all those brimstone and fire gobbledegook. Or perhaps the Father Superior - i.e: the Pope - back in Rome might had given him some real serious stick. Hohoho, I could well imagine that. A reet old knock/slap on that bald spot! [snigger, snigger]
Oh well. Had better turn in early tonight. Oh, I really feel so good with this new sassy haircut of mine. No more cumbersome plaits then. Kewl! Nice! Whatever..."
an entirely original yarn originally inscribed in anglo-saxon by the letter b who has got quite an imagination. copyrighted stuff, geddit? © breanagh mctavish 2000, 2004
October 19, 2004
typo?
in their haste to roll out a spiffin' revamped site early today:
spotted the following bit on the daily rag's online registration thingy, as i tapped the security wotsit wrongly; emphasis mine:
.. blah.. numbers doest not match.. yadda..
and this comes from the pacific area rag newspaper of the year.
transmission delayed
apols for the lack of blahing's, folk. busy day, what else is new.
anyhooo, keep yer blinker's peeled. i may come up with something totally brilliant.
October 18, 2004
October 17, 2004
chortleworthy
sample the following snippet off James' "destiny calling", note the last line carefully:
...she likes the black one
he likes the posh one
cute ones are usually gay..
how true.
sunday non-league footy
some doodlin' i did many many many :: ad infinitum :: moons ago.
sunday non-league footy.... highland foxes f.c. vs. tap & draft inn f.c.
the pub owner/landlord of tap&draft inn f.c., mr huntingdon, about to take the penalty kick...while the opposite goalie, earl wills mckinley, jigs(?) along the penalty box, making a complete fool of himself...see directional arrows on drawing for possible conclusions.
cartoon drawn by the letter b herself. and that's copyrighted stuff, you know. highland foxes fc and tap & draft fc are but a figment of the letter b's imagination. any resemblance of the above characters to real persons - appearance-wise or name-wise, long-gone or alive or otherwise - is *purely* coincidental.
October 15, 2004
b_mc.t's sparklin' gem
i don't give a toss to what people think or say about me. i live my life on my own terms, so sod all.
copyrighted stuff, geddit? © breanagh mctavish 2003
i lurve this bloke
sample the following snippet:
colleague: how are you then?
letter b: i'm alright looking forward to 6 pm actually, and ye?
colleague: in fact i'm like you too, can't wait for it
at least there's some hope for humankind.
it's kewl to be asexual
fabtastic. now i needn't have to explain - or elicit odd looks - that i wasn't even keen about sex during my first relationship. nor it is the be all and end all for moi.
Advertisers are working hard to appeal to this newly identified target group. They're going to show Häagen-Dazs ice cream being eaten from a bowl after dinner. Cadbury's Flake will no longer be pronounced phall-ake. And at this year's motor show, the new Ferrari will be put on display with Ann Widdecombe draped across the bonnet.
that's a welcome change, i tell ye. i'd rather put up with the sight of Ann Widdecombe draping across the bonnet; than those tacky innuendoes fashion magzines holler loudly every other month at so-called sexually inept wee island slag's.
don't make me splutter. sexually inept my derierre.
ramadan
today marks the start of the month-long fasting - or "ramadan" as known bluemarble wide - for muslim's all over the wee isle.
known locally as "puasa" - which means fasting in malay - i have absolute admiration for anyone who goes through the day without any nosh.
especially so under weather conditions like over here.
October 14, 2004
to global, or not to
another viewpoint on the arguments for and against globalisation.
yet another round of utter daftness descends upon 'ere at the workplace. so have got no time to spare to blah my two penneth's worth on this pet subject.
right fiasco?
filipino schoolbairn's have had been learning all the wrong fact's. since godknowswhen, and it's right bizarre beyond words.
sample the following:
The earth is shaped like a coconut.
does that come as a surprise when coconut trees are in over-abundance over there? or is it mango tree's?
oh i could go on, but i just don't want to get slag off.
weekend warrior's
a thinkworthy read about the territorial army's involvement in iraq.
seriously, when i was considering studying in the UK many moons ago, i fancied joining them as folk from commonwealth countries are eligible to apply. however as restrictions to bank loan's surfaced at about the same time, i had to abandon my plans.
bummer.
quizzed
You're the color blue. You have the three c's in life--you're cool, caring and confident. Trustworthy and honest, people are naturally attracted to you. You're unusually optimistic, but that makes life all the better. You're an imaginative person who loves sleeping and dreaming. Hard-working and determined, you excell in school. You're everybody's favorite, and this is because you have this undefined richness in your personality and attitude. Mild-tempered and stable. Not to mention very intelligent. Along with the fact that you're conservative, you're worried about the environment. So basically, you're a generous, dependable and devoted--just the kind of person everybody needs. Wouldn't it be great if everybody in the world were like you?
What color are you? (Amazingly detailed & accurate--with pics!)
brought to you by Quizilla
October 13, 2004
mong's and such
apparently i'm not the only one having an issue with mong's today. ie: read the headline carefully.
massive u-turn
after making generations of wee islanders of chinese ancestry hating "chinese as a second language" - or the logic-defying "mother tongue" - lessons at school, the education ministry are making a right u-turn.
'Most important is, don't turn the student off, which is what we have succeeded in doing. By forcing them to achieve the standard, we have turned off one generation, which is a great pity.
'They are fed up. They are forced by their parents, forced by their school. They have bad results, they hate it, they want nothing more to do with it, which I think is a tragedy.'
exactly. how i hated memorising every single stroke of those pictograms. not that i can't recognise certain words nor not being able to speak it. but what's the whole idea behind it? it's not as if chinese *is* the language of global business. nor my economic survival solely depends on it.
apart from my not being 100% chink.
back then, nobody - well except those who can't simply get a grip on reality - 'ere had any hangup's with the english language; not only it is a unifying language inherited from the colonialists' but the very existence of the wee isle relies on it.
granted, mandarin is all the rage amongst college students in the west. and for those who think they would have massive a leg-up with business associates in these parts.
but to propogate the propaganda that mandarin is the mother tongue of 70% - or more/less - of wee islanders is mighty erroneous. not to mention, a complete insult. their forefather's hailed from the southern provinces of china; where a variety of languages or dialects exist other than mandarin.
seriously, the good old "chinese as a second language" is more fitting as after all, ain't they wee islander first and foremost?
so?
sample the following, took place just moment's ago:
cow-orker: how is it goin', letter b?
letter b: could have been better, looking forward to the weekend though
cow-orker: uhm, but today's only wednesday
letter b: i *can't* look forward to it?
cow-orker: ...
spoilsport.
now you's know why
english fellas make me go weak in the knee :D
becareful when clicking on the link. especially if you's are at the workplace.
it comes in two's three's
if it's not MLB that's murdering us - ie: there are plenty of games by both the american league and the national league such that Programming simply couldn't make up their minds which to schedule - it's the PGA tour.
joining in the fun are 'em sales mongs. who simply don't get it that they cannot demand for more commercial time for the english premiership broadcast. this has been made crystal-clear to them two season's ago. it doesn't take a rocket scientist to work out why such amoeba's ended up in sales. does it?
regardless, i'd lurve to burn each and every one of 'em at the stake.
on top of that, the evil coughing bug is back to the workplace to claim new victims. and i thought i have already got rid of it.
fuck.
quizzed
nicked off rachel ann's.
You are starch. You are rigid, opinionated,
hard-willed and not too friendly about it. You
keep people out of places, or you keep them in,
and without you a lot of things would collapse.
hopefully you'll never have the authority to
burn people at the stake. Sir. Ma'am.
Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
October 12, 2004
hoho
extract from robin cook's the point of departure:
Tuesday 9 April
Funeral of the Queen Mother at Westminster Abbey. The entire Cabinet is on parade seated in the Canons' Stalls in the choir. The ceremony was conducted with minimum pomp and maximum dignity.
The medieval acoustics of Westminster Abbey trump any state-of-the-art concert hall. The meticulous punctuality of the whole ceremony was stunning, especially as it was carried out at a week's notice. Stephen Byers was sitting next to me on the pew and got mercilessly ribbed on why Britain could run a royal funeral with such punctuality but could not get its trains to run on time. Would it not be better to take Railtrack out of administration and hand it over now to the Household Cavalry?
In the hopeless melee outside the Abbey afterwards it was impossible to find our cars. I walked down Victoria Street to the flower stall where I bought a bouquet of white lilies for Gaynor as it is our wedding anniversay. The quickest way back was past Buckingham Palace and up The Mall. For half a mile up The Mall the verge was carpeted with flowers laid outside Clarence House by well-wishers of the Queen Mother. It was only when I was coming to the end of this field of commemoration that it dawned on me I was getting suspicious looks from members of the public who were clearly concerned that I'd helped myself to one of her bouquets of flowers.
October 11, 2004
happy thanksgiving
today's thanksgiving day in canada. canadian's celebrate it much earlier than their neighbours down south as the country's northerly position ensures an earlier harvest; hence an earlier giving of thanks.
well, happy thanksgiving, folks.
unreliably reliable
UNRELIABLE FACT OF THE DAY
From the Brains Trust
11 October 2004
A SPOONFUL OF SUGAR
After fifteen years of exhaustive research an international team of scientists have discovered that a far from helping medicine go down, mixing in a spoonful of sugar (in extreme cases) can cause rips in the space-time continuum
like a trooper
or a sailor. i muttered "fuck" and giving the finger no less than, erm, 10 times today.
it was all due to scheduling changes to the annual major league baseball compo in the U S of A; as st louis cardinals won game #4 against LA dodgers. or summat.
more madness expected until they are done with the world series. or summat.
October 10, 2004
post match
reet. so it was more like a typical premiership match than a world cup qualifier. where st george didn't exactly slay the dragon the way as he should. okay, so it was a toothless dragon to begin with.
seriously, was it just me or that the two sides had enormous respect towards each other, such that there wasn't much of an incident except beckham's injury?
whereby:
1. mickey owen could have scored but didn't have much luck; otherwise it would somehow boost his morale given his sorry episode at real madrid
2. shrek further demonstrated his maturity but still has got miles to go before being crowned the "next" paul gascoigne
3. england, in typical fashion, defended to death immediately after taking the lead until the opposite team equalised; which in this case wales did not
4. not one of 'em three strikers demonstrated the genius of alan shearer or teddy sheringham, cleverly drifting into the six yard box shaking off their markers
5. every one of 'em england players was inside their half defending, see #3 above
6. wales didn't much scare 'em either except attempts by bellamy and speed
7. the squad were once again dominated by manyoooo players
8. hargreaves' barnet vaguely resembled my, erm, last fling's
all in all, it was quite an entertaining game. beside some eye candy to ogle at. at the local that is.
October 09, 2004
howay the lad's
yes i'm gonna waddle my way down to the local later in the evening. to watch the "derby" game in my three lions shirt.
c'mon england, go slay 'em sheep dragons.
yummy yum yum
choccy's, crisps and ribena: make way for the letter b's newest addiction..
::drumroll::
apple strudel. yummy yum yum.
but in the wee island context, there're those that come with fillings of mango, strawberry, peach and durian. hence the apple bit is a misnomer.
eh, none in papaya? or blueberry?
October 08, 2004
found
a gem, this. so some of you's would now understand my ramblin's, rant's and wotnot better.
eh?
spare me the drama, puhleease
they thought they were back home in the peopre's lepubrik of wotsit, emphasis mine:
A RETRENCHMENT exercise took a dramatic turn yesterday when two Chinese nationals had to be taken to hospital.
Panasonic AVC Networks Singapore in Bedok South had retrenched 35 Chinese nationals. It was at the third meeting with their agent in Singapore and Panasonic AVC yesterday morning that one of them, a woman aged 28, became very emotional.
She started cutting her wrist with an eyebrow shaver. A second woman, 20, started banging her head on the table soon after.
oh, and that incident where hundred's of unpaid china labourers demonstrating - including some yelling's and banner-waving's for days - in front of parliament house many many moons ago.
obviously these foreigner's don't behave like romans do. while in rome.
news flash
an explosion outside the indonesia embassy in paris earlier today, with the soon-to-be-sworn-in president blaming it on "terrorists".
i wonder who.
October 07, 2004
mangled engrish
yet another atrocious email from the taiwan office, addressed to everyone in the team including yers truly:
Hi Jxxxx.
because Rxx on leave office.
can you tell me about NOV.program
On NOV.program scheduling i can see NBA program,
but NCS system i can see it,
When format finished?
Regards,
YET ANOTHER MINGER FROM TAIWAN [she did capitalise and bold her westernised name, obviously adopted]
should i go burn the taiwan flag now?
a right [inter]national disgrace
goodness gracious me. news of the Legitimate Gangster-backed bank which got themselves into a right royal cock-up has gone bluemarble-wide.
that's always the case innit, the wee isle always got into the headlines for the wrong reason's. also, given that a japanese firm was tasked to remove the boxes, surely there must be a miscommunication of some sort?
imagine the hoo-ha if a calamity of similar proportions happened over here on the wee isle. the last such occured in living memory was the POSBank acquisition. an acquisition in name only, as nearly the entire islet was very annoyed with the Gangsters as their pleas fell on deaf ears.
anyhooo, ta to the chair for the tidbit.
unreliably reliable
UNRELIABLE FACT OF THE DAY
From the Brains Trust
7 October 2004
HANGING GARDENS
The Hanging Gardens in Babylon were not suspended flowerbeds but simply gardens where public hangings took place.
effin' c*nt
again off football365, sample this morsel from that mighty cheat, emphasis mine:
"Of course, before the match we said that football had nothing to do with the Malvinas War, but we knew a lot of Argentinean kids had died there, shot down like little birds. This was revenge. It was like recovering a little bit of the Malvinas. In the pre-match interviews we had all said that football and politics shouldn't be confused, but that was a lie. We did nothing but think about it" - Extract from Diego Maradona’s autobiography, El Diego. Don't even bother to ask which match he was referring to.
but i thought 'em falklanders had made it very clearly before the war that they had never wished to return to argentina, senor?
get a grip, you dodgy twat. hand of god, indeed, that.
btw let me remind ye once again, it's called the FALKLANDS, geddit?? GRRRR...
eavesdropped
got me ear bashed on my journey to work this morning on the train.
by a whiny 20-something trying-hard-to-sound-yank-&-utterlyposh clad-in-all-black heavily-war-painted wee island malay cow. whose loser 40-something english paramour rang her on her mobile. obviously wanting to bonk her later in the day.
of course i knew all these 'cos she was stood beside me; subjecting everyone within hearing range to her pityworthy account of a, and i quote, "psycho calling my home, waking up my mum at six in the mornin' demanding to speak to me..". who proceeded to insult her modesty. oh, he didn't just stop there as he also rang her on her mobile and then hung up.
what made her think it was the same person?
anyhooo, she speculated it could be some "idiot" whom she rejected six years ago. and then she whispered into the phone for a bit before she resumed her twaddle. repeating the "calling me at six o'clock blahyaddawhinge.." line throughout my 18-minute travel.
for someone who couldn't stop fingering her long dyed barnet, and giving every bird inside the train the dirty look; is it of any wonder she got herself outraged by a "psycho"?
October 06, 2004
why i lurve my job even though it's utter tosh
on the telly's as we speak:
1. repeat of india vs pakistan hockey test series
2. 'live' india vs australia cricket
although i've been working here for a total of 4 years, 8 months and x days, i have yet grasped the rudiments of cricket. partly due to its giving me a shedload of problems scheduling-wise, the long playing hours, and the ridiculously massive number of commercial breaks.
still, i have absolutely no idea how come i found today's game remotely interesting.
October 05, 2004
the effin' cheek
yet another geezer tries to lay his grubby mitts/paws/flippers/suchlike on my beloved manyoooo. the cunning rupert murdoch failed miserably back in 1998. and before him, michael knighton in 1989. so okay, it was martin edwards who was wanting to sell the club.
wanker.
if the latest bollocks does go through, just imagine what this malcolm wotsit would do to the beautiful game, as speculated by aussie Simon. honestly i'd switch my loyalty to arsenal - cor, they used to play boring footy didn't they?
call me a glory seeker - go on, i dare you - but at least 'em frogs utter, "le football".
desperately seekin' wifey
the length's folk go to seeking spouses. some do it via mail order, whilst some really desperate types engage the services of matchmaker's.
whereas 'em greek blokes go to the ukraine and bulgaria mainly, their wee island chink counterparts flock to vietnam and taiwan. apart from the traditional bride-supplying areas of china, malaysia and indonesia.
"There are many (Ukrainian) women who would like to live in Greece," Mr Bilionis told the Greek daily Kathimerini. "The standard of life there is not satisfactory, and they regard our country as a kind of paradise."
ain't all birds the same regardless, Mr Bilionis? the grass is always greener on the other side.
or that they are evil manipulative opportunists.
public service - footy
vs 
'live' on wee island channel 24 this saturday @ 22:00 hours WIST.
C'MON ENGLAND.
this message is kindly brought to you by yer friendly neighbourhood wotsit the letter b.
traitor or hero?
how the yanks moved in rather quickly rounding up some of the most wanted saddam hussein cronies, all due to this 13-year-old iraqi lad codenamed steve-o.
the gobsmacking bit is one of said cronies was his father, then his mum was killed by an insurgent; and the fate of his siblings is still unknown.
October 04, 2004
dya know..
it's choccy week this week? yay, a fine excuse to indulge meself. in an aphrodisiac.
ooooer.
oh, i did put on 2.5 kilo's after all. finally. so it took days to show some result then.
it's a monday
so what's new?
in chronological order are the following rants:
1. the only connecting bus i take to work didn't turn up at its scheduled time of arrival. so i waited for a good 15 to 20 minutes before one came along. nay, make that two.
2. so i was late for work. reached the workplace at half 9. not my fault, wot.
3. the minute i stepped in, the workplace's system server's went wonky. and so was the email's.
4. due to some MLB teams' weekend performances, telly schedulings are changed accordingly.
5. cue: the usual whining's from some cow-orkers on how their work would be much delayed. whingeing twats.
6. some cow-orkers are coughing whatever's left of their lungs and brains out yet again. must be the avian flu i tell ye.
erm, that's about all for now. and i should stop my choccy bingeing.
October 01, 2004
poem
nothing clever to blah about at this moment. so a footy poem here. enjoy.
MUSINGS OF A PARK PLAYER
The agony of a missed penalty
The euphoria of winning the cup
The joy of scoring a hat-trick
Only if…
it was all me
Various trials I have been
Sunday Leagues I have gone
The only decent thing I have done
is standing between the sticks
… not that I am any good
Wish I could play brilliantly
bending the ball in like Beckham
Alas! I am but very poorly
“You could hardly hit a cow’s #&!* with a banjo!!!”
screech my mates, baying rather loudly
Shrugging them off
I go about kicking the ball
I don’t care if I can’t even score
At least I have the gall!
(Andy Cole I am not!!)
breanagh mctavish © 2002
unreliably reliable
UNRELIABLE FACT OF THE DAY
From the Brains Trust
1 October 2004
QWERTY, ANCIENT FORM OF TORTURE
The layout for the modern keyboard is actually based upon an ancient Egyptian game called P'Tempus. The players must try and press the correct pictograms (since replaced by letters) to make a sentence, the fastest one making the sentence wins. Losers were often obliged to cut off their smallest finger if an inaccurate saying was produced. Traditionally used as a trial of manhood or punishment it was put forward as a joke by an amateur egyptologist working for IBM, who sadly died before he could tell anyone he wasn't serious.
why i lurve my job even though it's utter bollocks
a gobful that. i'm watching the US election debate thingy on the telly as we speak, courtesy of bbc world service.
and no, i'm not skivin', in case yer wondering.