Looking back at Christmas, it couldn’t have been better unless all of the people I knew in London had turned up for a drink. Unlikely, as they were all with their families hoping for a visit too, so that had bad odds. But it was, in all, a good exponenet of the genre. Some examples of ancient traditions being upheld:

• Christmas Eve: expecting a quiet night to avoid a let down…changing my mind and going out…and it was quite good. Met up with Tony and Zap in the Rosie for a couple. The new guvnor (number 71612 this year) was very pleased to see us, if only because the late night custom was looking doubtful. We left at “closing time” (as we used to call it before the new licencing laws) , just as the DJs had started to play their peasant-wedding-style set. Off to the Hobgoblin to pass on Christmas greetings to The Fairy Godmother and Wee John. After a few “get out, we’re closed” type comments they invited us in and we shared an hour of pleasant conversation with them, Welsh Mike and the other regulars. Sorry, that should have read “we talked drunk pub bollocks” with Welsh Mike and the regulars. When it was time enough for us to leave we said our goodbyes and staggered out into the cold. I then broke my golden rule: if going to the New Cross Inn seems like a good idea after the pubs shut, then you are clearly too pissed to be making that sort of decision and should go home. Luckily, the presence of bouncers and a 5 quid entrance fee was enough to dissuade us and we resigned ourselves to getting home before the busses finished and getting to bed at “quite” a late hour. However, good sense was not to prevail! I’d forgotten that Vicky, a good acquaintance, was now running the NXI. She not only insisted we came in for a drink, but waived the 5 quid entrance charge. Drink, hip-hop, slurring, leaving late, chicken shop….that sort of thing.
• Christmas telly! OK a lot of shit and if I hear “Fairytale of New York” one more time I’m going to loose control. Don’t get me started….but there were good things on too. Cube! Ok, pretentious and pretty ridiculous, but very enjoyable in a sick sort of way. Minority Report was surprisingly good! Posing the question of whether one can be rightly accused of murder before the murder takes place ?”. Of course, in these enlightened times we know the answer is yes! That’s what Guantanamo Bay and Belmarsh are for!
• Yahtzee. Anyone fancy a challenge ? I’ll bet anyone that I’m crapper at any sport, game or contest than them. My sister thrashed me.
• Cheese, sherry, wine, turkey and smoked salmon. Nuff said
• Crap British 70’s sitcom spin-off films! On the buses, dad’s army, likely lads, the list goes on. We know they’re crap! We know they’re full of diabolical, racist, sexist, right-wing, bullshit, but if you grew up in the 70s there’s something forgivable about it. Like having a brain-damaged sibling or something. And at least the Clement/LaFrenais ones have some good jokes too.
• Humph! Green and pink! The christmas bird!

This week was my first week of employment with the new guys. Over the last year or two I’ve done a lot of working at home and it is now clear that interest in the work is the key to productivity. No other factors matter. And this project I’m very into so it’s been a surprisingly productive few days…fortunate when you consider how much stuff we have to do in the next few months…eeek. Scary but interesting and exciting even…hells bloody bells I’m a sad bastard…

Al-Queada have given up on their bombing campaign and have instead infiltrated TFL. That can be the only explanation for how shit London’s transport infrastructure has become. This morning Michele and I walked out of the gaff at 8 am. We both got to our respective workplaces at 10:15; me to Westboune Park, Michele to Ilford. Over two hours! We could have been in Holland by then! And at least we’d have been able to relax once there…but we weren’t going to Holland, we were going to work. How bizarre is the whole business of going to work. You waste hours of your life every day, going to a place you dislike (usually), to do a job you dislike (usually), with people you don’t give a fuck about (usually). The journey is so harsh that by the time you reach your workplace you want to kill everyone including the nice people….but instead you HAVE to stay there. Nope – you’re not allowed to spend your lives with the people you like and love, that’s against the rules. You have to work!
You’d have thought that by 2005 the human race would have evolved enough to sort out this bizarre, unproductive, and unhealthy state of affairs…but it’s as bad now as ever…possibly worse.
Some reading:

• The Right to be Lazy

Have a good night folks.
I’ve got to get dear Humph off my head before she craps in my hair again…

A bunch of 13-14 year old schoolkids got onto the DLR while I was on my way to Canary Wharf the other day. They engaged in the typical sort of behaviour you’d expect from them: shouting, running about, talking shit etc etc. But then one of them called his friend something that I found genuinely shocking. Now, as I have made very clear in the past, there are very few swearwords that can shock me these days, but when I heard a 14 year old, in 2005, call his friend a “Silly fish” I was taken aback. I haven’t been as surprised for at least ten years when all the urban skallies started calling each other “fool”. But “silly fish” ? That’s surely more P.G. wodehouse, Jennings or Just William than Millwall-massive isn’t it ? Leg-a-lamb…arrrrrrr!

So my time at Megacorp is over. The last day was like any other, except with the addition of a curry at lunchtime and a leaving card, nonetheless it still made me sad to walk out of there for the last time. If it hadn’t been the goldsmiths ball that night I’d probably have got all emotional…instead I just got pissed and tired.

Friday I went up to my new workplace to sort out the contract. It’s in Notting Hill, which as a sarf-landanah I really don’t know about. But, the film notwithstanding, it’s really got something going on there. Even though I’m only in 1 day a week from now on, I reckon it could be good fun being up there.

For the last two days I’ve been off sick. However, I have discovered Sinutab: Paracetamol + pseudoephedrine…joy! I can sleep without feeling that my entire upper-face is filled with napalm!
This afternoon I was scheduled to have my “Exit Interview” with someone from MegaCorp’s HR department. When the time came I decided to go along rather than cancel, and so went up to the Canary. MegaCorp had prepared their traditional welcome for me: not knowing who I was, whether I should be there, how I could get to where I’m supposed to go without someone making a fucking decision and taking an iota of responsibility.. so I took a seat and waited for the HR person to come and collect me. I selected the same leather sofa I’d sat in the last time I was waiting for someone from HR to come and meet me: when I was waiting for my initial job interview.
The corporate splendor of the vast lobby was no more impressive this time, despite the addition of the Christmas trees: a collection of 7ft tall immaculately decorated artificial trees, emitting about as much Christmas cheer as Ebeneezer Scrooge’s emergency pants.
The efficiency of the Private sector has once again come into play: I can no longer login. Brilliant! Who wants to do anything productive in their last week anyway ?
Sadly, I do. But I can’t.

Colds suck btw – if you don’t have one at the moment then you won’t remember quite how much they suck, but just remember that it’s worse than you remember. Praise the lord for inventing Sinutab in his astral laboratory.
Mmmm…pseudoephedrine….breathing….mmmmmm

So the Space Cadets were hired by Zeppotron, “a part of Endemol”.
All is clear!
Could this be the same Zeppotron that consists of Charlie Brooker and friends (including Chris Morris probly)?
Yes.
Doh!

Excuse me if there are typos in this posting, but my tears of pride may well damage the keyboard. To see such a genuinely spectacular night of pure entertainment as tonight’s Royal Variety Performance is one thing, but the fact that these illustrious stars are gathered together, purely to honour her gracious majesty the Queen, for no money, makes me want to cry.
It’s too much!
And WHAT entertainment! Stars of the small screen, ranging from such diverse programmes as Coronation Street, right up to the grim daytime adverts on ITV2, all gathered together. For Her Maj! Gawd blessem!
Do you know, if it wasn’t for the recent grim ITV2 ads, I wouldn’t have even heard of some of these brilliant performers such as “Bryn Tefal”, “Katherine Jenkinson”, “Andreas Boticelli” and “The Blue headed men who ponce about like a bunch of ponces”. And now, they’re performing at her majesty’s pleasure! Wow!

Anyway, I’ve got a really shitty cold, together with a sinus infection. At least, that what I think it is at the moment. Of course, in the sleepless small-hours when the pain in my sinuses coupled with the gallons of snot up my hooter force me to lie awake worrying, it will once again become anything between an abcess and a tumor.

Tomorrow we’re in the office again. You know, I was hoping that before I left MegaCorp, perhaps I could achieve something, anything, but it was not to be. The only major project I’ve been working on will not be rolled out before the “change freeze”…despite it being “urgent”. So, there’s no chance I’ll be able to see it in place before I leave. Not bad for five months work. This is still high-speed in MegaCorp terms, where it can take months to organise adding a single account to a single system. With all of the various departments trying to offload the responsibility to anyone passing until somone high-up enough says “just fucking sort it out” when it will get done immediately…well…within a week anyway.

Anyway, while I was typing this I missed the comic genius of Joe “squeeky-voiced” Pasquale, Catherine “Do I look like a fuckin’ liberty” Tate, “Guys and Birds”. If I don’t stop then I’ll miss David Grey, Cannon and Ball, The Chinese state Circus , Il G4, and Cliff Richard…probly.

Just so I can say “I told you so” if I’m right: “The biggest ever hoax on television” is actually a hoax on us. They’re all actors and it’s a joke on us, the voyeuristic, mean-sprited audience.

If I’m wrong, then you probably won’t remember anyway.

Talking of which, just an anal reminder to anyone who is sad enough to remember the conversation in the Hogshead last year about power-cuts and conspiracies…see! Told you!

Sorry – what a crap posting. I had all kinds of good stuff to go on about but it’s ended up being about reality TV…again…

Michele works for a company that is essentially funded by public money, yet somehow she is currently getting pissed up on free champagne in Monte Carlo while I sit at home on my own getting pissed up on Vino Collapso from the local Costcutter. Odd, epecially when you consider that I work for one of the biggest capitalist organs on the face of the earth…for now. Last day: December the 15th. Same day as the Christmas Ball. I wasn’t intending to go – 90% of the Goldsmiths people that I want to remain in contact with, I remain in contact with. The rest can fuck off really…and the rest will be there. But Brodie called this week and expressed interest in coming along, together with the other Harvey and Col…so maybe I will come along.
Whilst Michele was being fed grapes, champage and caviar, by the bell boy I was at home with Humph. I’d planned to go out, but that little bird is a captivating creature. You can’t just leave her at home if you have a choice, especially when she’s such good company. So I did some computery things and watched a couple of films:

• The Scarlet Claw – pretty poor but Basil and Nige make it all worthwhile.
• The Ghost of St Michaels: Still really good. Bought it from Amazon because Will Hay is my main man.
• Layer Cake – for the umpteenth time…but it’s the only other British Gangster film since The Long Good Friday that’s not only worth bothering with but really worth going out of your way to see…and lots of it is shot in Greenwich too. 🙂

Before I forget, Michele and Humph were on the letters page of the Daily Mail on Friday. Picture to follow.

Nice night last night too. Ian, Rach, Mod, Mod’s new Geezer and I met up in Greenwich. We had a couple of pints in the Kings Arms, which is now a theme pub..the theme being Olde English Pubbes. I like that though, especially now they open late. Then we did the long walk of abut 10 inches to the vietnamese restaurant next door for a stupidly large meal….followed by a trek back to the pub 🙂
Tip of the day: if you go into a pub after closing time and the bar staff ask you if you just came in, the answer is “NO!”. It seems that some pubs have licences allowing them to serve late only to punters who’ve been in there since before closing time.
More probably…