A question of cards

So this thing this evening sounds like it will involve meeting quite a few interesting people. According to my friend we will be in the green room and stuff.

This would be an ideal time to hand out business cards to various people but sadly I don't have any at the moment. The business cards for my old job rocked, I specifically asked for them to have as little information on them as possible and they looked brilliant.

I can't really use them anymore, since I have left the company so what am I going to do? I don't really have time to get cards printed properly, do they still have those funny machines at train stations?

Can I get away with no cards at all? While that might make me seem mysterious and interesting, it would be wise to be able to give my contact details to some people.

What would Batman do?

Have I got socks for you

The day has finally arrived, I'm going to go to a recording of Have I Got News For You with an old friend. It's not just any studio visit. It's going to be a VIP tour - my friend knows the sister of the senior producer.

I've already spent an entire morning thinking about my sock options, because like all studio visits you have to allow for the possibility that some cigar smoking T.V. mogul will say

'Hey see that that completely unknown chap with the marvellous socks, we should give him a job'.

To be fair this actually happened to me once, but I was wearing a silly shirt and it was in Scotland where these things happen all the time. I rather messed it up by going to a different party to meet someone when I should have stayed and talked about program ideas.

At the next party I got into quite a serious fight (ended up in A&E) for talking like an Englishman in public and then bumped into a ex who had turned stalker on me, but by Jove I learnt my lesson about staying at the right party.

If you were wondering the sock I have settled on it's a pink one with a red heel and toe, if that doesn't say 'six figure writing contract with a production credit' I don't know what does.

I have no idea what a production credit is, it's just something you are supposed to ask for. I think it might be some sort of space aged money that they use on T.V. sets instead of normal cash.

I want to buy an elephant to commute on.

Man cannot live on Brioche alone

I've had a terribly productive few days, super productive. I think it is down to the vast amounts of brioche I have had for breakfast, and as a mid-morning snack, then second breakfast and finally for a pre-lunch warm up. It's been a brioche packed time indeed.

I was so invigorated by the brioche that I finally told my flatmate I was moving out, I thought it would be like a break up with wailing and gnashing of teeth but he took it rather well. Things haven't been perfect for a while now between us, he didn't like it I had friends around and he kept leaving me little notes with 'tips' and 'hints' on them but we did have some fun times, he has not been the worst flatmate by a long stretch.

I'm moving out because I'm going to live with T.P., in a flat with rooms and doors and everything. I'm really looking forward too it. She doesn't have any interest in watching football, she likes my cooking and she promises to walk around in her pants a lot.

What more could anyone want from a flatmate? I just hope she doesn't try and eat my precious brioche.

Dogs and pirates

I'm going to be dog-sitting next week. I'll be staying in the flat so the doggy doesn't get lonely (my place isn't dog suitable). It's a little doggy I know well so it should be lots of fun. We are going to have all sorts of adventures, my only worry is who will look after my Bee while I'm away?

Anyway, I met the owner at a friends birthday drinks and I made a joke about hosting loads of wild parties at her flat. She told me the only rule I would have while staying at her flat

'No cocaine on the low table'

I was speechless for a moment, I don't take mild drugs (I feel guilty about taking paracetamol) let alone something as naughty as that. Then she explained she didn't want any hard drug taking on the low table just in case her dog decided to have a sample.

I laughed for about half an hour.

In other news the L word was mentioned this weekend by T.P. I was asked the question 'Do you love me' and well it seemed like the right time to say yes. So I replied.

'Yes, I love you, I love as much as pirates.'

For some reason this didn't go down as well as I thought it would, I can't see why. Pirates are brilliant.

Clandestine hats

When I was in the Americas I felt a burning desire to have a Panama hat. I've never been much of a hat person, oh I have a nice top hat to wear when the occasion warrants it and a fine selections of ridiculous head gear that I have collected over the years for parties and things but sadly a fez isn't day wear really.

Anyway, I have a panama hat now, and I love it. I doffed it today when I was out buying eggs and I saw a policewoman on a horse.

I could even use my hat to hide things, like if I was a spy and I needed to smuggle some top secret plans out of the country I could conceal them in my trusty Panama. Of course I can't really do that now I've mentioned it on a blog with literally dozens of readers but maybe I'm saying that so people won't search my hat, like a double bluff.

Or maybe I just said that as a triple bluff so people do search my hat and the plans will be somewhere else?

Being a spy is complicated, but it's worth it for the head gear.

The naughty bee

Every morning I have a routine, I get up make a cup of military strength fresh coffee and then start writing. Although by writing I mean checking emails while I put off doing proper work.

Then at about 9:30 the naughty bee pops in to say his hellos. He bimbles around for a bit and then he nips off again out of the window. This has happened every day for the past week, it's become part of our routine.

It's like a sit-com. Two friends from different worlds who live together with hilarious consequences, and also learn a bit about each other. I imagine we are going to have all sorts of japes and adventures.

So who wants a recurring part in Bee and Me?

Fairwell Mounir

I just spoke to an old work college from my old job. The chap who left about a week before me is dead.

Mounir was a lovely man, he put up with a lot of crap from the head of sales and was still chirpy. We had quite a few adventures together including an incident in a hotel room with the female owner of a sex toy company and her P.R. woman that is not really for public consuption.

We even had some proper grown up converations, he lost his father last year and I had a long talk to him about stuff like that when I found out my father was unwell. I can still remember his laugh when he said something shocking to one of the girls.

What makes it worse is he was in his flat a month before anyone found him, it's one of those urban myths you hope never comes true.

So that's three deaths this year, and quite honestly I've had enough of it. A chap really shouldn't get this much use out of his funeral suit.

These are a few of my favourite things...

The lovely lady at The Urban Woo has just posted about shops, she was inspired by this post on Oye Billy.

Anyway, I'm stuck on some work so I'm going to be *ahem* constructive and write about my favourite shops ever too. This is excluding restaurants that can be saved for another day.

Fortnum and Masons
The best hampers in London (I've done scientific testing and everything) you can pop in to them of an afternoon and pick up a beautiful wicker hamper full of exciting goodies. It's surprisingly good value considering you get to keep the lovely hamper and it's a gift for any occasion. Get one, go to Hyde park and try not to have a spiffing time. Just try.

Geo F Trumper
Barber and perfumer since 1875, recently I went in there for a new fragrance and spent almost an hour discussing what I wanted my scent to say. That's customer service, they even threw in some free soap. It's like entering a different world, one that smells lovely.

The Real McCoy
On Fore Street in Exeter there is a little arcade that has the best vintage clothes shop in Great Britain, fact. If you want to get a spiffing three piece 1920s tweed suit or perhaps a flapper style dress for less than the cost of a Top Shop shirt then this is the place to go. Although if you are male and the same size as me then you are banned, it's my precious.

I think that's enough for now.

I have a cunning plan

I've been thinking about Blackadder a lot over the last few days, and I have come to the conclusion that he is inspirational. So now if I get into a tricky situation I ask myself, what would Blackadder do?*

He's glib, he's got a nice beard and he's not afraid to wear a codpiece. How could anyone be more inspirational than that?

Now I just need to find a servant and become friends with The Queen. I wonder if my flatmate will answer to the name Baldrick?

*Excluding the first series of Blackadder where he was stupid and Baldrick was cunning

The nature of comedy

Last week all sorts of work things were going splendidly and then I got hopelessly side-tracked into a debate about the nature of comedy. It's completely stumped me to the point where I can't write anything.

The view presented to me was that all comedic characters are pathetic, that is what makes them funny.

Is this true? I can't decide, Blackadder wasn't pathetic (apart from the first series) so what made him funny?

Can you be funny with out being pathetic? What about witty quips?

Wisdom of the pipes

T.P. Brought me a present at the weekend, a pipe. I don't smoke, and I won't ever smoke but the idea of chomping down on a pipe while writing something always seemed very appealing.

Anyway I have a pipe now, and I've already spent a large portion of the morning pretending to light it and posing by the mantelpiece.

My only concern is will filling it with bubble mix detract from the gravitas it gives me?

Rum Inferno

I just learned two very important lessons.

1) Prusser's Navy Strength Rum will burst into flames if you boil it, Proper roaring flames of death.

2) If your rum is on fire, don't try and blow it out, you just get a fireball in your face. Instead calmly place the lid on top of the pan to suffocate the fire and then run to the bathroom to see if you still have any eyebrows.

Baking is fun.

Boozing and Baking

I went out for drinks last night and now I'm terribly hungover. I think the Spirit of Jeffrey Bernard possessed me as I had far, far more than I should to drink and now I feel wretched. I did have an excellent idea though, for measuring tapes where the scale is off so when you measure something it appears to be larger than it is. Just think of the potential for falsehood...

Well it seemed like a good idea last night. Much like the extra round of drinks to see us on our way, now I'm paying the price, oh yes, but when a chap is feeling a touch 'bliffy' there is a sure-fire to get the spring back into his step.

Bake.

I think a feisty little banana bread would get me right back into the spirit of things, perhaps some macaroons as well. Yes, that's an excellent plan.

Now I just need to work out a way to get to the shops without vomiting, maybe if I construct some sort of nose bag to cover my mouth.

Lets talk about beards

Now, lets really talk about beards, they are a source of a lot of angst for chaps. As we know, ladies don't go back to the places of men with hairy faces, but why?

Maybe it's just such a male thing, from almost the moment that we get to proudly grow our first facial fuzz we are being encouraged to shave it off when what we would like to do is grow it in to a proud beard, perhaps we a dash of wax, should the occasion warrent it.

But alas, it never happens. Have you ever noticed that explorers always grow beards? Or that in all male environments, like remote research stations or computer game conventions beards are much more acceptable.

It's oppression man, it's time we chaps stood up and burned our razors! And I will join you, just after tonight. I'm out for cocktails and you can't drink cocktails with a beard. With a 'tashe, maybe, but not with a beard.

Oh and Brian Blessed is the man of the month, just look at rich rug of a beard.

The very nice man at Dell

This blog has been around for a while and has probably talked about enough nonsense to make most of you believe that it isn't a marketing plant. With that in mind I would just like to say how surprised I am about how shockingly good Dell have been about my laptop.

I managed to break the R key by inserting a knife behind it trying to get a stone or something out. The key pinged across the room (and hit my flatmate in the head) and I couldn't get it back on properly so it has been hanging on limply, useable but annoying.

Anyway, I contacted Dell online and after explaining the problem they are arranging for a replacement keyboard to be sent out tomorrow with instructions on replacing it.

I was thinking I'd have to shell out for a new one. So yeah, Dell get my recommendation.

Now I know that if I stick a knife in a computer, I'm going to be fine as long as it's a Dell.

They should use that as a slogan.

The worst anecdote

I've played a game with my friends a few times where you try and come up with the worst anecdote possible. This sort of comes from an ex-girlfriend who was extremely pretty and lovely but would tell the most boring stories as if they were amusing asides in the style of Oscar Wilde.

The one where she tried to buy some forks but was told you could only buy the nice cultery in sets was especially fine, but I don't want to say too much and spoil it for you just in case you ever meet her.

Anyway, I was at a party with the T.P. on Saturday and I met a chap who told me the following very funny story. I know it was funny because he told me it was.

'Yah, so I needed to stir some paint because I was touching up some of the woodwork in the kitchen and I used one of Craig's wooden spoons for cooking. I just stirred the paint with the other end and then I thought. God Craig is going to go mental.

But he didn't he was just like, oh that's fine we only use the other end anyway,'

At this point the story teller paused to wait for roars of laughter. I thought about sharing the fork story, or at least putting one in my eye.

Alligators, Steath Bombers and lame gifts

I'm back in England now, and I'm glad.

Don't get me wrong I had a lovely time in America. I played Beach Volleyball in the evening sun, saw a Stealth Bomber zoom over the palm trees on Miami beach and ate more than I really should which is pretty much all a chap can hope for on an a holiday but it's nice to be back in England with the hills and Peruvians.

I'm trying to think of more to say, but I'm still on American time so this is 6am for me so I think I'll go and drink my body weight in coffee and see if that helps.

Oh and T.P. loved the dresses, lingerie and even the rubbish jewellery I got her. I still can't really believe she quite liked the gift I spent hours choosing to be as tacky as possible.

Blimes, thinking of gifts, I finally brought some well thought out gifts and got to give them to the girl they were brought for, that's a new experience.

Blimes!

Tales from the Keys (part 4)

Yesterday was fairly relaxed. We got up late, went and did some light shopping for pointless electronics, including being hard sold insurance. I said no, and the fact that 'I am only in the states once every couple of years, so couldn't bring broken unit into a store to have it replaced' wasn't really enough to stop him getting in the manager who was going to offer me a special reduced rate because I had a nice face and he liked my style.

Armed with our freshly shiney gadgets we took the dogs to the doggy park so they could run around excitedly and sniff other dogs. There was a crazy dog lady there who was pretty but extremely annoying so we left after only an hour. The dogs enjoyed the experience and spent a lot of time in the car trying to get their whole bodies out of the windows to get as much wind on fur action as possible.

We dropped the dogs off for lunch and then zoomed over to the cinema to catch Grindhouse. It was funny, pleasantly strange and I laughed more than I thought I would. After the film we got changed into fancy pants ready for the evening event which was Conrad's birthday party. This was held at 'The Cheesecake Factory' I ate lots but avoided the cheesecake. Loads of Conrad's friends had turned up so I got to meet lots of Floridites (Floradoids?) who were really good fun. Then we went to another bar for some champagne, I only had a sip becuase I was driving.

At about midnight we set off back to the house, the streets were deserted so I was zooming along in the car happly until I saw some blue flashing lights behind me. I pulled over and started hearing the theme from Cops in my head.

The chap turned up resplendent in beige with a gun and asked for my license and registration just like in the films. Thankfully I managed to 'oh my gosh' my way out of the situation and after a few more 'Oh officer I am so terribly sorry' I was told to go on my way, but try not to go twice the speed limit again.

So yeah, I'm like totally a gangster now, I should probably get myself a street name and and possie of homos, or at least I think that is what they are called.