is this the voice of the mysterons?

Do they even wear boxers?

2007-09-06T14:18:00.000Z

It wasn't until I stepped up that I realised I'd put my boxers on back to front. The bloke next to me tried to start up a conversation: Alright? How's it going? Like he cares, he shouldn't be talking anyway, it's against all the rules of engagement. My reply is usually mumbled anyway, but the added confusion of an impenetrable cloth barrier meant that I didn't actually say any words, just a vague uncomfortable murmur of noises: Gablimeerraugh, yeh, flip, sytupoed, nuhbad. I stared at the corner of a tile and was silent.

Still my pride was restored. I was walking round the office, and everyone was saying hello to me, in increasingly animated ways. "Jono!". Hi Mike. "The Jonster!". Hmm. "Jono-o-o" (My very own football chant). Yeh, not bad. It was like being in a film, I was so excited, I even got an apprentice to join in. Andy, say hello to me. "What?" Just say hello to me. "Hi Jono". Hey there! Peow Peow went my hand pistols, blow the smoke off the tops, then return them to the hand holsters.

I am the dog.

The dog, with his boxers on back to front

Crash Bang Wallop

2007-07-20T17:18:00.000Z

Don't worry about it, said John, It's just a little scratch.

Ok, said I, I'll carry on.

Next part onto the welding machine. Bleep. Bleep. Pop. Sparks! Ooh they look nice! They are hot though, and it looks like my glove has burned through. It shouldn't do that really. It makes my hand burn. Again.

Oh diddums! I exclaimed. That smarts somewhat.

Its not all bad though, I now have weeping sores where once was supple skin.

Ba da Bing

2007-02-23T13:05:00.000Z

Thats the noise that msn makes when you get an email. Usually it's from some Viagra merchant (although apparently, its not Viagra, they are marketing Sildenafil (which is Viagra's generic name) or an alternative) or other ways of getting a bigger willy\boobs\both. Today however is different, as I sit bleary eyed in an apartment a block from Central Park, a lady called Louise emailed me to say I had bought a house. Well, thats a new one you might say. No! I reply, for you may not know this, but you don't have to be in the country to buy your first house. It does make for difficult communications, and a few moments waking up in a cold sweat, or going to sleep in a hot sweat, or just sweating, but it is possible.

So now, we do own a house, but none of our appendages are getting any bigger

Spinny roundy Head thing

2007-02-20T22:50:00.000Z

So I'm on the subway right, in Times Square, and we are about to catch the train and we stop and there are these blokes with hats, and Michael Jackson is singing. Then we watch in amazement as they perform an acrobatic thing and lie on the floor in funny shapes. They call it "break-dancing", its pretty fabulous. Click here if you wish to watch it.

Oh, I'm in New York by the way.

Sing lullaby

2006-12-21T15:03:00.000Z

Went carol singing at an old peoples home yesterday evening. When I say old peoples home I mean, "An exclusive development of apartments for the over 55's". Sing a few carols and serve them some tea, and they would do anything for you.

There is something about carol services that bring out the naughty little boy in me. Singing the descant at the top of my voice, whispering and laughing at the "rude" words (virgin, breast, throng - that last one is top funny). Tried not to get the giggles when one old chap sung every line two bars behind and with a warble worthy of any ambulance siren. Dave read a reading, and got solitary applause from one lady. "Ooh, it's getting hot in here" said the minister, "So take off.." began Jono. He's flipping hilarious he is. Alan "Fingers" Bennet led us on the Casio in renditions of carols, sung from the same carol sheet as 50 years ago, with pictures of birds and trees from the Bible.

The old ones are always the best.

No, it's not always like this, is it?

2006-11-07T09:10:00.000Z

Some days.

Toothache. Men who trim their sideburns above their ears. Foreigners with names that sound like swear words. Air-conditioning smelling like the bit between train carriages. When it works. Talk of yesterdays traffic. Foreigners swear word names shouted across the office. Confused looks from ladies talking about pregnancy. That man looks like Elvis. My phone spins much better on the desk when the keys are facing downwards. Left over buffet food. Big bit of gristle in a pork pie. Cleaner doesn't like hoovering because it's noisy. So is a carpet sweeper, and it's more annoying. I washed my cup today! First drink tasted of lavender washing up liquid. That's why I don't wash it up that often. Complaining. Does everyone complain about their job?

Bang!

2006-09-27T20:43:00.000Z

A hit, a very palpable hit!

I got him right on the apex. He struggled for a bit now he's down. Next comes the hard part - the butchering.

This englishmans home will soon be a castle.

House Hunt

2006-09-27T11:13:00.000Z

It's like trying to shoot a sprightly gazelle. Actually, I've never tried to shoot a sprightly gazelle, so I don't know what that is like in reality. If I had, I'm sure it would be pretty much equivalent.

All houses merge into one average house, which has many added original features, extensive kitchen-bathroom, large external fireplace, off road lounge, converted loft garage, and recently refitted cellar garden. This monster, a mid-terraced detached garden flat, has a well presented front door, well proportioned textured ceiling, requiring complete re-modernisation, being completely restored.

Sounds fantastic. A snip at just £125,000 or we could offer £125, and hope they don't notice the missing ,000.Thats a lot of money. Whichever way you look at it, it's a lot of money. Why do we feel the need to spend all that money on a house? We live in a perfectly good house, which will cost lots less than a mortgage every month, and yet we want to live in our own little castle.

I think turrets would look good, actually. That's a great idea. Our home is now quite literally our castle. I'll employ some Portuguese cleaners to man the archer slit things. With bows and arrows. Drawbridge. It's a couple of planks of wood and a hinge with some chain, sounds like a front door really. Lay it on its side. Horses. Substitute for rabbits. Stables. Rabbit hutch, obviously. I'll have a couple of guinea pigs to walk around the moat, scaring off potential intruders, and acting as an early warning squeak system. If baddies do get through the daunting battlements (front wall, "with attractive wrought iron gate"), I'll scald them with hot water from the upstairs power shower. That'll teach 'em. If that fails, we'll nip down to the hutches, jump on our trusty bunny steeds and escape down the "useful rear access road, with potential for off road parking".

Just call me Sir Jono of 23 Peel Terrace.

Lets hope they accept our offer, I can't wait.

Don't knock anything off, you'll make a mess

2006-09-01T07:35:00.000Z

Desk diary today:

Knock the 't' of the 'can't'

can'

I've got some coffee this morning anyway, so that's hardly going to affect anything I do. I say coffee, it's really some powdery stuff that comes in a jar. It's like tar in a way. We have other teas - Earl grey, Rooibos and Vanilla, other herbals including berry teas. Sam bought them. She is not a man, so can drink them without ridicule. I, on the other hand, have to endure the gentle and sometimes violent ribbing that occurs when I walk past desks with a mug full of delicious pot-purri. I make up for this lack of hardness by asking for "strong black coffee" a mans drink, I'm sure you will agree. The respect obtained from drinking this substance outweighs the herbal wussiness.

Fact of the day - diary style

1939 - Nazi Germany attacked Poland, triggering WW II.

Seems they must have been reading the advice on the diary themselves.......

"What do they mean 'You can't attack Poland?'"
"There's no 't' in can'"
"What does can' mean anyway?"
"So does that mean we can attack? Or that we can' attack"
"There's no I in team!"
"Yes, but there is tea"

I rest my case.

First one down

2006-08-31T09:42:00.000Z

This blog is 3 weeks old. I just thought I'd try and repost it, it being international blogging day and all. Amen.

> The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance; the wise grows it under his feet.
>
> Wise words. I think. Desk diary wisdom will continue, watch this space.
>
> Been at work for a whole week, and so far I have made a draw tidy from a cardboard box. It's pretty swish. Cardboard is a versatile material and in the right hands could be used to fashion almost anything. Did you know that in Japan there is a cardboard construction company? Cardboard-tastic. That's not true. But it would be good if it was. I'd pay money to stay in a cardboard hotel... cardboard sheets (non-corrugated), cardboard telly (you could have a man in a box), cardboard shower, cardboard porter, wow. I could go on and on. Maybe I will. Cardboard room service, cardboard trouser press. Maybe we could create a whole cardboard resort. Go to the cardboard beach, to catch some cardboard rays. Sitting under a cardboard tree drinking cardboard cocktail, with one of those funny cardboard umbrellas. People would go and climb cardboard mountains. The first person to conquer cardboard Everest would plant a cardboard flag at the top. Triumphant.
>
> I'm off to get a glass of water.
>
>
>

Here we are....

2006-07-25T21:50:00.000Z

After all this time. Recap.

Results, moving house, buying furniture, graduating.

Now in Argentina. Salta more precisely.

We have....

Drunk Mate up a mountain, watched an indian marathon, admired the view (more than once) and been blinded by the sun reflecting on some salt. Phew.

They think it's all over

2006-06-16T11:46:00.000Z

Well, now it is over indeed.

2:1 is the result.

Jude got a desereved 1st from all the work she put in.

Right, whats next?

Tough times

2006-06-16T09:25:00.000Z

Tomorrow afternoon I'm playing in my cousin Kathys memorial service. Kathy had cystic fibrosis. She was probably the bravest, most positive person I have ever met. I'm crying in a library.

The last of them

2006-05-10T09:07:00.000Z

Exams are quite wierd, especially ones with a lot of people in. 500 people sitting in silence at desks, not moving. I may actually miss them. University exams are easier than school ones because, generally, you know what is going to come up, so they can be fun when you can do all the questions in 45 minutes, then walk past all the arts students writing 20 page essays. Ha. 2 hours a week? Who's got the better deal now? I'm not bitter.

My last exams are as follows. Please stop reading if you don't care, I'm putting them here because I know I'll lose the bit of paper I've got them on, and then I won't know where they are, or what they are. If you're still interested, please carry on reading

Quality and Reliability Engineering - 16th May - 13:00 - City Hall

Process Engineering - 23rd May - 09:00 - City Hall

Applied Numerical Methods in Engineering - 25th May - 13:00 - Students Union

Fluid Power Systems - 1st June - 13:00 - Sports Hall, Llys Talybont

And then I'm done!

If any of the module titles sound remotely interesting, please let me know.

How high do you want the mug?

2006-05-08T10:36:00.000Z

Everything is exciting in coffe high. Typing much toof ast, so that all the words are jumbled up and confusing. THere is toom uch space between most of the keys and the spaecbar anyway. No time to correct any grammar. Sorted my notes earlier, that was fun, and did the washing up, and some washing. Now I'm getting excited about sorting out the rest of my notes, and going to aldis to buy some bread. Whatevere happens, I have to do it quickly, and propbably interspersed with some shouting, hitting of the table or loud singing in a gravelly voice. Plus beatboxing. There are four radios on in the house, so I can be hear one wherever I am, and I mean wherever. I'm not listening to them. My leg is vibrating the floorboards. Hey! excitement, the washing machine has stopped! I can hangout the washing. Feel a bit clammy now, kind of like I've got a bit of afever. Nothing a LITTLE RUN IN THE PARK WON'T SOLVE. Craop, capslock. Of course spurs shouldn't egt to replay the match, are you mad? And you are also an idiot for having that opinion to. Sorry gfor shouting at you. I can hear the debated ont he radio now. Digital radios are half a second behind normal radios. It's like listening to a pirate station with loads of delay. Or reggae. BO..bo. BAFTA...bafta. TRAFFIC...traffic.
Tired now. Blurred vision. It was fun while it lasted.

Here at the end of all things

2006-05-04T16:11:00.000Z

Goodness me, this fells a little wierd. I have finished all the coursework for university, that means for the forseeable future. I almost feel sad. No, hang on......I don't.
My final act of assessed bliss was a presentation, in the middle of which Alan decided to ring me. Why then? No-one ever rings me, never ever. My embarrassment was compounded by having Jenny singing her very own version of "Come and join the Celebration" (a Kendrick classic) as the ring tone. The titters turned to laughter as I dived to my bag, where I completely forgot which pocket the phone was in. Not wanting to distribute the many used plastic bags that had been my lunch vessels around the room, I grabbed the bag, started hitting it in the vain hope that I would make contact with the piece of singing plastic. Alas, to no avail, I had to retreat to the safety of the corridor before I the dulcet tones ceased of their own accord.
So thank you very much Jenny and Alan, for combining to make this last academic exercise a very memorable one. The best thing is, you don't even know that you did, yet. I'll thank you both personally.
Next up: Revision.
I'm looking forward to that. No, really I actually am.

Danger love

2006-05-03T09:01:00.000Z

Whilst clearing out my memory stick, I found this - a poem which was left on the photocopier at work a while back. I couldn't resist taking a scan of it and saving it for posterity.

Don't know who Katy is though....

The land of.....

2006-05-02T15:36:00.000Z

Conversations sometimes go a little wierd. Take the chicken-frog. A conversation that started quite normally soon descended to thinking up what the eggs of said creature would be (conclusion, chicken-frog spawn, you could cook them like eggs) and the noise the young males would make in the morning (frog-a-doodle-doo). Here it is, the British Lowland Chicken-Frog, Gallus Ranunculus.
Thanks Holly.

Hand in

2006-05-02T14:28:00.000Z

After an 11 hour day on Monday and 3 hours this morning, almost £50 worth of printing, and more than one swear word, one project has been handed in. This is the culmination of 6 people and 9 months of effort, we are designing a racing car, you see. Personally, I wouldn't have put myself on the design for the brake system, but as a team, I think we may have pulled it off. We'll have the marks by the time they find it doesn't work anyway. I'll be long gone when the car is taken to Germany, only to find the brake pedal is so small no-one can press it down without simultaneously flooring the throttle, or that the wheels fall off due to the ludicrosly underspecified bolts holding them on. Details, thats what they are, mere details. At least when we handed the report in the lecturer in charge complimented us on the folding of the drawings. "Ooh, thats very neat". Technical. I pointed out to the rest of the team that I was the one who folded them, and that they should take it into account when rating my performance for the peer assesment. They just laughed at me. I was actually being serious too. 4 years of education, and at the end of it I can confidently fold a drawing. Don't say that isn't worth it.

Still, in an age where education is increasingly driven by "Is this marked?" it's good to know I have some practical skills. Practical skills that may come in useful when we come to build the car in the coming weeks. It's going to be hard work, but it'll be worth it. To see at the end, the finished article shining, shimmering, splendid. Racing round a track at high speed, feeling a welling up of pride and thinking - "I built that"

Sod that, I've just heard the practical bit doesn't count towards the mark.

How do you do?

2006-04-29T13:32:00.000Z

Tayside NHS trust have created a leaflet to tell people the best way of using the facilities.

Before you all go and follow their advice, a warning from bitter experience - trousers usually get in the way, remove them first.

Blue is the colour

2006-04-27T10:45:00.000Z

The toilets have been painted a lovely eggshell blue! How thoughtful. We have a plasma screen on the wall telling us information! How helpful. These two new additions are linked by the financial year end. Instead of spending money on sending us on field trips, or employing more lecturers, we have relaxing pastels and a glorified noticeboard. Great.

Is this me?

2006-04-20T20:27:00.000Z

Whilst I'm on my moaning phase, (see below) Simon showed me this Dilbert cartoon. This is how I feel about group projects and my contribution.

I'm being a right old sod today. It's rubbing off from the people at work. Thats what you get when you mix the midlands, cars, and manufacturing, with a young, eager, vibrant, dynamic mind.

Last day

2006-04-20T20:17:00.000Z

Tomorrow is the last day that I will go to work from someone else's house.
It doesn't sound like much, but for the past 5 years, going to work has meant either getting up ludicrously early and driving to the other side of Birmingham, or getting up and having breakfast in a kitchen that's not my own.
I can't complain about the deal dealt from the heavenly realm, but this nomadic existence has worn more than a little thin. Only working in university holidays, and getting paid all the time (even when having a lie-in) is pretty good, living out of a suitcase for a third of the year isn't.

I'll stop moaning now.

Ask me a question

2006-04-18T16:13:00.000Z

So, I got back from falcon camp today. When I say “I got back”, I really mean “I’m at work”. Bit of a change really, putting kids to bed one minute, sitting in an office the next. I’m truly tired, can’t really focus on anything, and my feet are boiling hot. Just had a sausage, egg and mushroom bap as a reward for my exertions of the weekend, I figure I deserved that much at least. Feel a bit sick now. Outside the buzzer has just gone, and soon the presses will start up again. Duff. Duff. Duff. My end of the office has no natural light, the air conditioning is broken and a smell of oil and damp lingers in the air. The midlands accent is drifting across the office. It’s like being in a tent, I can’t hear any words, just a mish-mash of brummy. Phones are ringing. Ring. Ring. That’s an internal call, if it went ring-ring, it would be an external, and more than likely be completely ignored by everyone. That way we don’t get any extra work. I just read the office copy of the Sun. Brilliant. In the centre today are pictures of people who look like famous people. It was quite good, I particularly liked the Lionel Richie look-a-like. Well done Edward Scott of Essex, you have done well. Grow a bit more facial hair, say “Hello…” and you could be the real thing. My feet are really hot now, I’m going to take my shoes off. Laces…done. One shoe off. Other shoe off. I know the date is Tuesday 18th courtesy of a calendar from Brown + Holmes, Tamworth, which is, by the way an historic hatting town. If you need a hat, it’s a good place to go. Sam just gave me her calendar, which she doesn’t use. It’ll give me something to do in the morning, ripping off the previous days date. That’s a good thing. On this day in 1949, the Republic of Ireland Act came into force. Fascinating. “There are too many people, and too few human beings” That’s just silly. I have a box of oxo cubes on my desk. Beef. No-one knows why. If you want one let me know, I can send you one. I’m going to make me a drink, haven’t decided between tea and coffee yet. Got to put my shoes back on first, and tie the laces up. “Steve do you want a drink?” “No thanks mate” “Steve?” “ I will if you’re making one”. There are two Steves. “Do you want a drink Sam?” “ No thanks, mate” Just went to ask Rob and he said he wouldn’t mind a cup of tea. Steve is having a green tea. On my way past, Sam decided she would have fruit tea, and gave me her fruit-tea cup to put it in. I’m having earl grey. Just got to wait for the kettle to boil. It’s not boiling yet. The accountants have just left the conference room carrying calculators. With big buttons. Talking of hats, Steve brought our office travelling hat back in today. It’s a pink sun hat, and so far it’s been to France, Japan, China for about 6 months, and probably other places. They took the label that said “Serious Hat” off when it went to China, because of censorship. I used to wear it to make important announcements. “Your tea is ready” and the like. Feet are hot again. Shoes are off again. Anger. Anger, and hitting of bookcase. Threats of “shagging with a red hot poker”. Allegations of high horse riding. Cereal bowl clanging. It’s on the other side of the bookcase. Cereal bowl clangs again. Desk punched. Giggles from my side of the bookcase. Another desk punch. Smiles on my side, with a wry shake of the head. Novelty ring tone – a baby laughing. MD just gave us a tray of biscuits. Lunch time. I’ve lost my mug. Salad. Chicken, bacon, sweetcorn. Rob made me a cup of tea without being asked. I’ve got my mug back. Hot feet again, off come the shoes. Had a French sweet, from a Frenchman. Marzipan with icing, tasted a little like soap. Out for a glass of water. Water dispenser is also the coffee machine. It always dispenses half a cup too much. Have to know when to pull the cup out, and not get coffee residue on my hands. Good skills. Mike suggests I go to bed and sleep, because I look a state. Thanks Mike. “You look like Gary Glitter with that hairstyle”. What hairstyle? I have hair, but no style. No Mike, I don’t want to be in your gang, thanks anyway. Woman walks through the office, in office-wear. Excitement dies down after ten minutes. Email - something about Hensip Max strength, for bird flu. A new low. Fruit tea to drink, but I’m not a girl. Annoyed French man, it doesn’t get much better than this. Man walks into the office with plastic bags on his feet. 3 years after everyone else stopped using them he persists. The carpets dirtier than a dirty thing! Don’t bother! “He should have been an accountant” Good one, Mike. Carpets being cleaned! The most exciting thing all week! Carpet cleaners don’t have any hose pipe. Home time now, I’m going to go and sleep.

Don’t you hate it when people ask you what happened at work / school today, and you can’t think of anything?

Martin Miguel de Guemes

2006-04-05T20:36:00.000Z

Argentine hero, famed for his gaucho warrior gang. Some say he died on the battlefield, others suggest it was in someone elses bed complete with a borrowed wife and shotgun bullets. Either way he had a good beard. You can check out his tribute band here.

Enjoy.

Office Watch

2006-04-04T18:37:00.000Z

So, now I'm at work for a couple of weeks, I thought I'd take the opportunity to tell you about it.

Today, one of the project managers borrowed our copy of the Sun. Next seen walking to the toilet, with a large drawing. Came back a good 15 minutes later looking refreshed.

Ear lowering exercise

2006-03-29T12:01:00.001Z

I got my hair cut today. I never know what to say to the question "What do you want done?". I don't know, can't you read my mind? That would be easier. Luckily today, I had planned my return phrase. "This long please, shows length and the same all over." Had a nice silent cut. No nattering about holidays, or the weather, the only communication mid 'compendi facere' (look it up) was when the hairdresser dropped a comb into my lap. "Good catch". Good catch? how could I have not caught it? Lastly comes the dreaded look at the back of your hair. Try and sound like you care, or if you do care, try to sound like you are happy with it. "Is this ok?" Nods. Yeah, yeah thats top stuff, brilliant, yep, thats great. "How about the other side" What do you mean "what about the other side"? Surely the other side is the same! I'm not a Topman model. Nods again. For sure, that looks brilliant, excellent, yep, thanks, top stuff. "Do you have it messy?" she asks. What! I like to call it au naturel or tousled. My nearly two year old niece thinks its messy, but I'm not paying you to say I'm a lazy bum. Lets use some technical terms here please. Yes I have it messy. Finally, I got smacked in the head with a hair-dryer, then had my head gently tousled while candle wax was massaged into my scalp.

I paid £8.50 for the experience, got a free tissue, and now I can see. Bargain.

2006-03-26T16:40:00.000Z

nuff said

Past my bedtime

2006-03-26T16:24:00.000Z

Played a gig at Royal Holloway last night. Thats the university, not the prison. First band were on at 12. 12, midnight to you and I. That is way too late. We didn't get on stage until 1:15 in the morning, which was "the hour that doesn't exist" due to the clocks changing. Got the car packed and left at 2:15. Suddenly 2:15 turned into 3:15. Bum. Got home at 5:30 in the morning, made me tired. I have a nice busy week at ui ahead of me, then lots of early starts due to having work commitments, followed by 4 days with a bunch of 7-11 year olds.

Fun gig though, got to enjoy these things while you can.

Make the most of what you've got left

2006-03-23T12:48:00.000Z

I've recently been counting down the weeks till I finish my course (currently at 6). It's getting quite tedious, all this academia, and I've been looking forward to it all being over. Now though, I feel I've got far too negative, and I'm trying to enjoy these last few weeks. From now on I'll be smiling most of the time, and being positive and happy.

Had two hours of "Reliability Engineering" this morning. That was a test. Next lecture is "Fluid Power". How exciting. There is a reason the lecture theatre has no windows.

I'm still happy.

Digital budget

2006-03-23T12:36:00.000Z

Following on from David Camerons 'witty' remarks about Gordon Brown being an 'analogue' politician in a digital world, I followed this though through, and found myself rather relieved that the man who sets the budget is analogue, and not digital.

Imagine GB, in the office, someone asks him how much tax we are going to pay. Digital brown has only two answers - on and off. "On" says GB, "lets put tax on" how much? Well on muct be 100%, and off will be 0%. This means no-one will have any money. We need to give people benefits. "Benfits on" comes the answer from Mr Analogue in the corner. Oh, we now need to fund the schools and everything else, where will we get that from? We've run out of money before we started.

Hence, if we want politicians to be digital, we must teach them to pretend to be analogue, much like Casio have done with their pianos. Good idea. What we need is an analogue modelling digital politician. Perhaps we will need politician top boxes, to translate the binary madness into a language us old fashioned analogues can understand. One day all politicians will be digital, we'll turn off the old analogue politicians.

Must make sense to DC, the first new Tory policy. If it aint broke, break it then make something that does the same job, not as well and costs more.

Nuclear Proliferation

2006-03-14T16:30:00.000Z

With the nuclear campaign groups trying to convince the government to develop "small" nuclear devices, to scare rogue states from developing their own. I got to thinking, why don't we do the same with kids at school? Instead of stopping them from taking knives or weapons, we should provide the responsible ones with small kinves, which will be a deterrent to those naughty ones from bringing in their own knives. Only problem I can forsee is how to decide which ones are the responsible. Perhaps they could nominate themselves?

Never mind

2006-03-13T21:27:00.000Z

Wrote a song last night. No idea what its about. Time just seems to go about ten times quicker when one is writing music.

Like a bubble, constantly rising.

2006-03-11T17:01:00.000Z

Today. I attempted to do some work in the library. Wife and I came in in mid morning, having previously spilt a mango duvet on the newly washed white duvet. Bum. Most of the morning, actually all of it, was spent pretending to work, whilst not actually doing anything. The afternoon was much more productive, I wrote a paragraph and a half.

Reading are now 20 points clear, and Leeds have 8 games left 8x3= 24, can't get promoted next week, maybe the week after.

Thats what I call a productive day. Just be glad you don't have to do any academic work with me.

Searching for hay in a needle-stack

2006-03-10T10:56:00.000Z

It's hard work this journal searching. I've been looking for some human cadaveric test data. Unfortunately, the type I am looking for is almost completely unavailable, due to ethical issues. Easy to get your fingers pricked. With society unwilling to let anyone carry out these tests, the project I'm working on cannot be validated.

Still, got to move all the needles, just in case there is a blade of grass in there. You never know....

Start of a brand new day

2006-03-09T10:41:00.000Z

Today. I got up at an early 7:15, man I was raring to go. Out of bed, into the shower, washed, dried, clothed, powdered nose. Breakfast. 3 weet-bisks. Made lunch, marmite and peanut butter sandwiches 1 of each respectively. Made tea (1 spoon normal, 1 1/2 earl grey). Took it upstairs, gave it to wife. Emptyed washing machine. Filled washing machine. Got bike out of garage. Put on bike clothes. Left house. Got stones thrown at me by school kids. Went up to them and told them what-for, they were bally scared, said sorry sorry, we won't ever do that again. That was in my head, I actually just meekly carried on. Maybe I uttered an utterance which I shouldn't have. Up the hill some old man drove to within 6 inches of me. Raised my hand in a gesture. Realised it was an old man. Felt bad. Spent rest of journey dodging school run mums and singing softly to myself. Lecture on distillation. Welsh man saying "mole". Next lecture cancelled. Yes. Thought - I'm going to do some work now. Writes blog.

2006-03-07T09:40:00.000Z

I'm on strike today. As a member of the NUS, I feel it's my duty to support our gallant and brave lecturers in their noble fight for a fair wage.

Facts: lecturers are now paid significantly less than they were 20 years ago, because of the below inflation wage increases. If we want a decent education system, we need the top academics to be rewarded for the work they do, and enough of them to prevent the 50+ hour weeks.

That's why I'm on strike today.

Plus it's raining. Who wants to get wet?

Norris

2006-03-03T10:29:00.000Z

I have recently become amused with old fashioned names. Norris is a personal favourite at the moment.

Maybe I should be a bit modern, when choosing names for future Munday offspring (don't read anything into that, it's just a bit of fun). I rate Badger as an excellent choice for a young gent. Badger Munday. It's got a ring to it. Perhaps all of the Munday clan could have British animal names. Stoat, Otter and Badger, it's certainly got a ring to it. Vole. I'm becoming more and more excited by the idea. Just for good measure I'll put in Manx Cat, in reference to the in-laws ancestors. Everyones happy.

Tim

2006-01-30T10:46:00.000Z

It's an interesting situation. Today is the first day of the new term. New beginnings and all that, I have declared my intention (as I do at the start of every new term) to work outside of lectures, to be a good boy. Today finds me with all these good intentions, I'm on the computers. I had to come in early today. I'm raring to go, my brain just wants to learn. My first lecture is at 5 o'clock.

Jon said I should claim overtime for that one.

I'm bored now.

Frank

2006-01-26T15:26:00.000Z

Today the non exam fun has consisted of the creation of an "assembly jazz" version of the classic - Make me a channel of your peace. No vocals yet though.

It's a funny feeling, like I should be doing something, but I'm not. Although in actual fact I have nothing to do. Need to arrange a time to meet my boss, and his boss. They're coming to visit me at university in a couple of weeks. Cars got an MOT on monday. Going to IKEA tonight with Dave. Nope. All I have to do now is wait, nothing to do. I mean I could do some work, but I won't. Garth Marenghi is here. Yes.

Champions

2006-01-24T19:51:00.000Z

I won the league today, for the second time in two years. My policy of buying young talent is paying off. It helped that Jude had an exam, which meant I was able to devote the hours of 10 till 5 to the task - minus the neighbours break in the middle of course. I am now, officially the number one manager in England, and the manager of the national team. One day I may quit, go to a conference side, and win the champions league. For now I'm just enjoying the fact that I finished my exams yesterday.

The fear didn't come - I didn't need it. But for those who do, my wife can suggest some 'supplements' which can help.

Genichi Taguchi

2006-01-18T12:54:00.000Z

Japanese quality assurance guru. "Any deviation from the nominal target is a loss, not only to the company, but to society".

Does that apply to me and the work I do? Ultimately, does that mean if I don't stick by the timetable I've set myself, then society will lose out? If I slack off will it mean that somewhere an andrex puppy is being drowned?

The Japanese seem to have built up a whole economy on common sense. If someone enjoys their job, they'll do it better. Who gave them this common sense? An american. The americans didn't like the idea that you could let people enjoy work, and not just shout at them, so they ignored W. Edwards Deming for 40 years. By that time Japan had become the super-economy it is today, and the rest of the world is only just cottoning on, and attempting to catch up.

Simple is best.

Time fries?

2006-01-12T15:44:00.000Z

I have a George Foreman "Lean, Mean, Fat Reducing, Grilling Machine". Makes good toasties. I've actually put my name on it. On a post-it. My lady wife has lots of post-its, one of the advantages of medical professions. As an engineer, you get to take bits of scrap metal and old wooden pallets home. I'm gonna build the best treehouse ever.

2006-01-10T21:36:00.000Z

Today. Exam in seven days. I haven't had "the fear" yet.

I did some work today, but Simon said I was distracting him so I stopped and played with an exercise ball instead. I have a problem when revising with other people, it makes me competitive. Trouble is, when I am competitive I give up when I'm being beaten. Not very good at being competitive, or maybe just not determined. It has always been like this, hence my inability to play any board games that last longer than "the game of life". Or hold one thought for more than a sentence.

Something about exams in seven days......

When will "the fear" come?