McBlog entry

I was having a think on the way into work today. The Big McDonalds advert in Picadilly Circus keeps flashing up a number where you can petition to get the definition of McJob changed in a dictionary.

Now, I think it's way too late for that, McJob means a crap job, fact. Even better now, thanks to McDonalds the prefix Mc makes almost anything sound tacky and crap for example.

McLuxury
McChampagne
McPorsche
McGold

All sound terrible, that's the legacy McDonalds have given us. Don't try and change McDonalds, you serve shit food, but it's what the people McLove.

Tanks, tanks, tanks!

Tanks are skill, actually think of the best thing ever, then like times it by a lot (more than six) and you aren't even close to how brilliant tanks are.

To misquote Spinal Tap.

"How much more good could tanks be?
None, None more good."

Rumbling around in that motorised killing machine was the best thing ever, well I say best thing, but we got to play with the gun, and that was even betterererer. If you ever get the chance to mess around in tanks, do. The one I was messing around in was an APC, but with a turret. It was a rare special edition of the FV432 that has a turret with a proper gun in. The tank I was playing in was used to patrol the Berlin wall to protect it from David Hasselhoff.

It's supposed to be a good starter tank because it is manageable 17 tonnes and you could service it yourself. Sadly the price of them has gone through the roof with the situation in Iraq as instead of getting rid of these aging monsters the MOD is retrofitting them and sending them out to Afghanistan.

Still, where the tanks are, I must go. I'm off to join the army now. Bye

Smart Cars, Tanks and old coats

I put on an old coat today, it's a double breasted affair that I've not worn for months, some time last year really. It's pockets were full of junk so it was like going back in time. There were receipts from bars I can't remember going to and a business card for 'Ruth' that had 'call me' on the back in red pen. Of course I chucked it all in the bin, or the recycling box to be exact, but it made me smile.

I also had my first go in a smart car today, one that looks almost exactly like the one in the picture, I'm borrowing it off a friend to drive up north to mess around in tanks for a newspaper. I like the idea of turning up to a tank battle in a Smart Car, it seems plucky and faintly rediculous. That's me almost exactly.

Charlie on a bike

I'm having one of the bad days. It's partly my own fault for trying to write about things to do with my dad, just a few words can turn me into a mess. Still it's all part of the process.

Anyway, here is a picture of my dad when he was at Eton, this photo appeared in the national papers and got him in quite a bit of trouble.

I think it's a brilliant photo, it's sort of a symbol of what was fun about my dad.

If you're sad, look at a monkey

There are some things that are guaranteed to cheer you up, no matter what is going on. My little brother was feeling very sad about the whole father situation so I showed him what the Internet was really for.

Watching monkeys drink their pee.

It's impossible not to laugh when you watch some cheeky chimp have a good drink of wee-wee from it's winky. I don't know why, possibly because it takes you back to School when you used to occasionally sit next to the mildly naughty kid who would do pointlessly silly things just because he could, like eat crayons or snort crushed up Polos and you would spend the whole lesson trying not to laugh.

It's also impossible to be sad when listening to Spanish Flea by Herb Alpert, it's so willfully plucky. I can't share the tune with you but you can hum it to yourself while you watch a monkey sup it's special lemonade.



Oh, it's such a naughty little monkey.

I've got a bike

It was London Freecycle today, large sections of the city were given over to the exclusive pursuit of bimbling around on bikes.

I could go on about it, but nothing I could say would be as good as this robot panda that was cycling around with a lady in a tweed suit.

Some other stuff happened this weekend which wasn't so good, but I can't go into it because it's just a bit too much to deal with right now.

I wish I had a robot panda.

A mixed day

Yesterday was technically a good day, possibly a brilliant day. I have managed to get a book deal, it's for a sort of book I wouldn't have thought I would be writing but the money is good and it is a fun project.

What made the whole thing more entertaining is the project required a consummate gambler to write about casinos. I hate gambling, but in the interviews I was successfully able to give the impression of some sort of James Bond type who has been playing Craps since he could roll snake eyes. I'm not that person, I think gambling is stupid and the more I researched into the subject the more I realised the Casinos are on to a brilliant scam. Either way the book is going to be entertaining to write and it should lead on to other things - I'll have to think of other subjects I don't like so I can write a guide to them

All sorts of other things are happening now too, so the career part of my life is very much taking off which leads me to the kicker. I wanted to tell my dad about it all.

While this didn't ruin my entire evening it did rather put a downer on it, and then I had a night riddled with nightmares last night. I always do when I think of my dad.

Crumbs!

Yet another mixed day, I had another mistake. This time it was forgetting the inclusion of a ' in Sotheby's in a line of text. This caused a total melt-down from the person I was working for - she has just started working with Sotheby's and so is deeply concerned that this might piss them off.

I haven't heard yet if it caused the end of the world but I suppose we shall see, I hope not, I like working for them. ho-hum.

T.P. has been in a bit of a changeable mood recently, without wanting to sound like misogynistic berk I think a lot of it is to do with hormones. She had one of those injections that means you can't have babies and it's just ending so I would imagine her body is just re-adjusting to normal function. Re-adjusting with the side effect of a hulk like rage

As an aside DO NOT get that injection if you are thinking of it, it turned the loving, funny, wonderful girl that I fell in love with into something else. Something that gets furious if I ask her how her day went, let alone dare to enquire if she would like a glass of wine.

So that is it really, I'm sort of falling to pieces and she is upset over silly little things. Lovely.

Oh and I have a job interview thing tomorrow; it's not the ideal time to have one but the world can't stop just because somethings have gone a bit squiffy and it wasn't all bad today, I made some excellent rice pudding.

The madness of grief

When people die it is sad. If you don't really get to say goodbye, or really get involved in the funeral it all seems a bit unreal. So you just get on with your life. The problem with this is that if something goes wrong, it really goes wrong.

I missed a meeting today, it was an important one, I missed it because I got the day wrong and that is bad. The meeting was arranged last Friday when everything went wonky, so it's sort of understandable. This got me in quite a flap to the point where I had to go and make a cup of tea and sit down.

Is this what starting to go mad is like? When things that would normally make you go 'blast' and move on, cause a minor meltdown?

When people ask if you are okay, you are British so of course you say 'oh I'm fine' and then get back to work, but you aren't and it's in a way that is hard to describe.

I don't want to go mad, eccentric I can work with but not mad.

Second wives are bad

Well there was a cremation. It didn't feel like my dad, I wasn't involved at any point - the second wife took control. So I just saw a box in the distance, I wasn't even allowed to carry it.

Then when they read out a summation of my fathers life he didn't have any children. The second wife had re-written history so it jumped straight from him leaving school to moving to Scotland. I don't know if you have ever been written out of history but it's a deeply unsettling experience.

I'm going to do a entry about my dad when I find a good picture of him.

The end

At around 6am this morning my father died. I didn't get to see him before he passed away.

Fear and loathing in Maida Vale

As part of my reading by the spirits yesterday the lady kept going on about someone close to me having a drink or drugs problem. I looked slightly taken aback and then said no. T.P. likes a drink or two but it's not a problem. She said no this was definitely a problem and then we moved onto another subject.

I didn't think more about it until I left and turned my phone on, my neighbour (who I should add is a proper friend not just someone I share a postcode with) wanted me to come home right away because he was scared people were in his flat. When I got back I discovered that he hadn't slept for two days and had been snorting rather a lot of white powder and was completely fried. It took about eight hours for him to calm down and admit that while it was possible that someone was hacking into his camera phone to watch him so they could steal his stuff, it was fairly unlikely. Especially since that if some people had broken into his flat while he was asleep why didn't they take any of the massive amounts of highly portable expensive electronics he has everywhere?

He seems a bit better today after having actually slept for a while, bless.

So while I was having my reading a close friend was having a really bad situation with drugs, freaky eh?

No wales for me

I'm not going to Wales today either. My dad took a turn for the worse in the night and now he doesn't want anyone to visit him.

I don't think he really understands at this time people want to see him most. Organising a surprise visit would be tricky to say the least. Where he lives is almost impossibly remote and hard to pronounce. Getting a train would still involve a half an hour taxi ride to somewhere I can't really name and then up a track that most cars can't go up.

I suppose I could hire a car and drive, I've done it before, but it's not something you should do (drive I mean) if you are going to be upset at any point. last time I did it the journey home was a harrowing experience, and rather dangerous.

What I really need to do is steal a helicopter, with a pilot and keep him hidden in the private garden behind the flat. Then if I need to travel at a moments notice I can, and I don't have to drive. First I need to find the key to the gardens, nothing is easy, is it?

The Spirits tell me, you are gay

It's been a bit of a strange day today. I was supposed to go to Wales to see my father but it wasn't possible, so I'm going to go tomorrow. It's the end game of the cancer so it's important to see him before it's too late.

Anyway, because I couldn't go to Wales, T.P. and I used to the time to get some photos made of my Dad and I to give as a gift and she said we should go to Tarot readers to cheer us up. T.P. is a fan of them but sadly her usual person wasn't available so we had the choice of Venus or Tiffany. The whole arrangement sounded like organising a trip to a brothel, or at least how I imagine a trip to the brothel to be like. T.P was trying to remember the name of her favourite lady but could only remember what she looked like so was asking what the readers looked like and then asking their names.

Anyway we went to the shop and I was taken upstairs to have my reading. Considering I've just been told by my dad he doesn't have long I was curious to see if that would appear in the cards.

It didn't. According to the lady I might have something to do with the UN later in my life (Do they have a UN Ambassador for tailoring?) she said I might live in a hot country, threatened children and then said some other wrong things about my brother.

T.P. was in the booth next to me so also got to hear her reading, where living in Peru was mentioned - which is extremely unlikely she wouldn't go back for work. They also said T.P. would move house in 9 months.

My favourite moment was near the start where she asked me if I have ever questioned my sexuality. Yes, My psychic thinks I'm gay.

It's just going to be one of those weekends.

Back, sort of

After careful thought, well a gin and tonic I've decided I am going to carry on and be damned with the consequences.

Which means I've got some highs and lows to report which I will do in the form of good news bad news

Good News - I have a meeting with a publisher on Friday about a book.

Bad News - It's not the one I've been working on, it's for a different one they have suggested.

Good News - It shouldn't take long and will pay quite well.

Bad News - I still haven't heard back from one newspaper about a feature I sent over weeks ago.

Good News - I had a brilliant lunch with a lady who knows everyone, she is going to help me get more work.

Bad News - This means I have to come up with some feature ideas, fast.

Good News - One of my ideas already looks like it is going to be picked up.

Bad News - My dad just contacted me, with an email that was basically 'I don't have long so come and visit fast'

Blimey it's been quite a couple of days.

The gag

I have my suspicions something bad has happened, well it's more then that - I know because I'm secretly good at computery stuff so I can if someone has been browsing through the computers history.

T.P. has found this blog and so it's going to go on hold for a while

Louche