The plump young globes of that schizoid woman.....

Cylindrical Buildings of the World II



















Check this beauty out! Inspired by my cylindrical building from Bucharest I then saw this baby in Singapore near chinatown. Surely this is the mother of them all! It's a beast! You could house a small nation in there!

I remain in awe!

The sugar cane juice was good too! And who can knock a full meal for a pound? Bit too humid for me though.

Tempting fate I walk the edge of a knife

Cylindrical Buildings of the World Part I

I have taken in upon myself to photograph all the cylindrical buildings of the world and record them here.

This one is in Bucharest, Romania. I visited here on my european tour with the mighty blues. A very lovely place with too much traffic and stray dogs. It's a fine example of the cylindrical form if a bit tired looking and worn (in with the general theme of central Bucharest).

More cylindrical buildings later my friends! And if you do see one please tell me.

I never was and never will be.

Some of you may have read of Mookie's sad dilemma..... Well I was in the same position except twice as bad. As you can see from the above picture though, I lacked her restraint.

See how Mr Duck looks mournfully on at all that remains of his beloved wife Mrs Duck. A small pink hat.

It's a cruel world.

..see the lonely morning sun a rise.....

Ah! Saturday morning.

Another week put to bed. What a tiring week (no doubt helped by a number of beery evenings).

Tuesday ended up in a pub for food, with mr and mrs Hamster, but as they were doing a quiz night stayed till closing. Finished fourth, not bad eh! Especially as I gave the team next door an answer so they beat us.

Wednesday (fortunately for my liver) Minty and furry peach blew me out (peach's excuse was that they'd bought a new dog! Novel!)

Thursday went out for a beer with friend to discuss love lives - inconclusive result

Friday. A testing day but managed to sneak out after for a quick couple with the Borrowers, Dome, Hethers and Pantsfella. Everyone bailed early so I had a quick japanese, how lovely is raw salmon??? And grilled eel handrolls!!! Lush.

Funniest moment of the week? I'm on the phone to chemist and I can hear noise in the background.
I say "What the fuck is that? It sounds like a telly"
Chemist: "Oh I'm on a conference call"
Me: laughter
Chemist: "It's ok, it's on mute."
Me: more laughter

.....and now I find, I can't unwind I'm coiled up up tight inside my mind...

Guess what??

You never will....

I entered a half arsed competition I saw in a pub and I won......

Two return flights!!!!

To....

Namibia!!!!

Who fancies it then?

My grey is turning to black...

Not liking to be outdone by my gorgeous antipodean friend, here is the biggest spider I have seen in England:












Known to the romans as tegenaria gigantea these spiders can get quite big. AND they can bite! I don't think they often do mind, despite having big old fangs.

My most scary encounter was at home when the rest of my family were holidaying in France. I was lying in bed and heard a kind of scrapy walking sound above me. My walls were covered by posters of the Police and The Bangles at the time (PS Susannah Hoffs is still very much a fox). So I got up and switched the light on and looked where the noise was coming from. Now being without my contacts I needed to get near the wall to see clearly. So right in front of my eyes was:













I almost messed me pants!
The only scarier face-to-creepy-crawly time was in southern france when in bed I noticed a blurry dark spot on the ceiling. I stuck my head close to it (contact lenseless again and was faced with:














This freak of nature is a house centipede (known from then on as a 'ghast creature'. It scared the life out of me!
I never saw another one until a holiday many years later in Cephallonia with a pixie faced swede.
That was a holiday and a half! At the time I was also seeing a lady who I shall refer to as 'Chebs'. I had fibbed and said I was holidaying alone.
Every day or so I was having to scooter down to the phone to chat to Chebs which was all very well until she decided (thanks to my interfering friend Monkey lips, who thought it would be amusing to encourage her to come to the airport) to meet me at Gatwick. After some panic I calmly gave her the flight number (plus one added on to the end) and an arrival time a few hours later.
Chebs was smart though and phoned up enquiries to see if it was on time, only to find out it was a Wednesday flight. Fortunately she didn't turn up anyway (I was sweating! these were stressful times), but I had lots of explaining to do. How I got away with that one I shall never know.

I'll tell you what I was drinking all day yesterday and ended with a doner kebab. There's nothing quite like a doner to emphasize a hangover!

Waves are crashing inside my head, I tuck her in, into your bed.

Great dream last night!

I was living with Ant and Dec (they shared a bed just like Morcambe and Wise!) and I needed a wee. I had no clothes on.........

shit! that reminds me of another story from wilder times. I was out after work and chatting to a young lady (who I will name 'Pasta'). We had a lot of beers and she says she's going to a party in Finchley (where by coincidence I live!) so I say I'll go back on the tube with her.
Being a feisty young man I snog her on the way back home so we decide to go to the party together. I mean it's not much of a party really, just a few of her friends, so we just get more drunk and me and Pasta end up on the sofa after everyone has gone to bed. We get a bit naughty and get into a bit of kid and play. Both fall asleep naked.
I wake up! Now, this is where the dream reminds me of the moment. I wake up and I'm in bed. Not on a sofa! I'm in bed. In fact I'm in bed with two other people. Making it even worse i'm in bed with two people I only met last night, a couple (male and female) and I'm between the two of them AND naked!!!!
So I slide out of bed and do a naked commando crawl out to the safety of the sofa. I have never to this day found out what happened but I'm sure it was innocent.

.....so I do a naked commando crawl (see the link?) to the bathroom. I crawl through the hallway (big double bed in here where Cat Deeley sleeps) and go in the wrong door (I always do this when drunk and in a strange house) there's another big bed full of people in here. I finally get to the right room and who should be there???...











BARRY SCOTT!!!!! He's there in the bathroom using his 'I can only shout' voice to give myself (and several others who are already resident in this capacious bathroom) a Cillit Bang demo. He does so on the horribly grimy and limescaled glass surround to the sink and I have to say I'm impressed (I always believed in him). Unfortunately he then ruins it all by making us write and sign official statements that Cillit Bang is the best cleaner. Barry man! Are you obsessed?

I woke up needing a wee.

Sticks and stones...can hurt....if you shoot them through the bone.

Just Jane challenged me to come up with my twenty tracks for twenty headings. I am beginning now (rather belatedly).

By the way! Isn’t it ace when summer starts creeping nearer?

1. Track from your early childhood:

Frigging in the Rigging – Sex Pistols

I remember my little mate Willy from across the road marching up and down to this in Pete’s room. He was oblivious to the rude content, I’m convinced we didn’t get it all either.

2. Track you associate with your first love:

If we’re talking first real love then it’s Angel in The Snow – A-ha, I also wrote a song aboot the sexy squaw for my illustrious band Big Khunta. It was impressive for having three totally differently chorded choruses.

By the way SS was an angel and would’ve looked splendid in the snow.

OH! Also It’s Grim Up North – The Jamms. She bought this for me and it sounded ace on my 3D Super Woofer (or whatever it was called). She nicked it when we split up though!

3. Track that reminds you of a holiday trip:

King of my Castle – Wamdue Project

Reminds me of me and the Minkster (who has sadly abandoned me to move to New Zealand). This song takes me back a few years to our bachelor trip to Grand Canaria. We were quite brave in those days and if there was a stage we’d be up on it doing our rave dancing with no shirts on. First night we met up with some lads we’d met on’t plane and got so drunk that Minky lost his wallet and neither of us remember getting home. Quite how I got in when Minky had the keys and you had to climb up the balconies otherwise I do not know. I awoke the next day to find Minky hadn’t made it past the front room. We met a couple of lovely dutch ladies later in the week (very tall!), one of whom I ending up going out with. I also snogged a girl who looked “like sam fox after she’s had a foot pump up her arse” and we went skinny dipping with a couple of foxy, but mad, Scottish girls. Quite eventful for a week in November.

4. A track that you like but wouldn’t want to be associated with in public

Nelly – Hot in Here

I know I shouldn’t really like this but I do. I think the clincher was the Christina Ricci lookalike I was see at the time used to sing it and sounded dead cute.

I also had Captain Beaky as a lad and wish I still did. A very uplifting song! Sadly I decided write all over the b side and then test its properties as a discus. It is no longer in my collection.

5. A track that accompanied you when you were lovesick

Every Breath You Take – The Police

Most people think this is a beautiful love song. It isn’t it’s a bitter song about loss and obsession. I played it a few times when I got dumped by a lass called Carrie. Not too many times…..I’m a bit shallow to be fair.

Right! That’s the first five, it’lll take a while for me to do the other 15. You’ll have to bear with me.

Oh woe is me! Oh halls of Admetus!

Look at this bunch of likely lads!

Guess which one is my Dad.

There's many things you can't disguise, your lovely young lips and your neon eyes

Sunday Morning:

Never my favourite day. But feeling impressively not-hungover. Sun is shining in through the windows. Can't be bad.

Yesterday was my yearly 'home game' as the mighty blues came to the Valley. Always excellent fun as the Antigallican pub on the way to ground is invaded by blues and we have a good old sing song.

TODAYS AMAZING FACT:

Anti gallican means anti-french. It dates back to the Napeolic war when soldiers would come back from fighting and open up a pub with their pay. There used to be lots of pubs called Antigallican, but this is now the last one in London.

(me? I thought it was Antigallician and actually some anti spanish thing. It was only when Duffers pointed out the dartboard was spelt differently that I had a rethink)

There were a few young scallys in there who will've had a headache by the end of the match but fortunately no major trashings.

We wandered into the ground, quite a pleasant one really, nice and compact. Had our food (sadly southerners don't understand a slice is not as good as a pie) and watched one of the the most tedious games I've ever seen (our first 0.0 in 53 matches). The only amusement for me was my unwavering shouts in support of the blundering Dickie Wright. I have never seen a goalkeeper inspire so much fear in his own defence.

By the time I got home after six pints I felt a night out was beyond me......

But since then the aeons have taken their toll,

Blooargh! Windy day today. From my lofty perch in the corporate monolith that mean you can feel movement. On a bad day, like today, it makes me feel car sick.

Comedy of the day was Hether's attempt to get an E-mail sent round the whole department (around 300 in our section I'd guess, 600 in the bigger team) saying to see him if they wanted to enter the Grand National sweepstake........

Now.....the lady in charge of this, we shall name her 'The Middle Aged Manager's Wet Dream' (Wetters for short), is a bit of corporate Hitler. Her reply?

'errrrrrr, business reason?' she went on to say that she's always up for having fun but promoting gambling is bad. I mean who made Wetters our moral guardian. She's more than happy to promote the joys of an outrageously unfair and subjective pay structure. But a sweepstake with a £20 prize? NEVER!

On a literary note. I'm reading 'One hundred Years of Solitude' by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I've never seen such long paragraphs! AND small writing. I think my dad left it behind in an effort to 'Improve me'. He used to give me reading lists in the summer holidays in an attmept to do that too. Sadly, I refused because I'm an obstinate litle git. Spookily I've read them all since and loved them. My Dad, it must be said, is 'The Man'.

Finally, a note from my main man BabyFace. He is the master of comedy E-mails:

On Gambling on The Grand National

I'll just do what my Nan used to do - pretend ("That way I'll get as much enjoyment if it wins and it will cost me nothing if it loses"). Inspiring generation - they could live off thin air when things got tight with no need for the never-never. They gave Hitler a good poke in the eye as well. Sterling stuff - they didn't even have any stockings or bananas as far as I can gather. Imagine that - a banana split would justbe a bowl of ice cream and whipped cream and a glass cherry. Except they didn't even have ice-cream or whipped cream or bowls, so it was just a glass cherry - as luck would have it that was my Nan's favourite bit(she liked them on a cocktail stick in her babycham as well as in lieu of a full banana split) so she was pleased all the same. Inspiring generation.

Sure you knew your place, cos it was sitting on my face.

Tuesday evening. That means footie night. I'm am just returned from the sports hall and in one piece (despite a bizarrely miscued pass from Pantsfellah hitting me in the face). Lot's of players tonight so it was three teams and lots of six minute matches. And we won all bar one. Impressive. This despite giving away Angry and Dougie Fresh (we did have Show Pony though).

Week after next it's outside so it'll be Bruce Lee time.

My nose is still tender. Mind you I was getting a cold and it seems to have cleared me sinuses!

I had a thought today.....where does all the extra juice in a tin of tomatoes come from? I mean, do extra tomatoes die to provide it? And if so what happend to them? Do they go into tomato puree? And where are the skins? Is there a skin mountain somewhere?

Any answers?

(So) I drink my beer, like we used to do, (get) a takeaway meal, and remember you.

Monday evening! Why does Joe 90 always brief me on work as late as possible in the day so I have to work late? Coincidental? I think not.

Oh poop, better let the cat in it's getting dark......

......there, she's back. Why does she wait outside the front door of the flats when she could jump a wall, take the back door (which I leave open), go up the stairs and be heard miaowing? She's a div that cat. She fell out of the window once.....

She's prrpping at me now wanting more food. But I won't weaken, she's on a diet and I'm sticking to it.

Hmmmm, was I sidetracked there? Anyhoo, Sunday was a quietish day. Did all me chores and then had a sneaky beer with Angry and his bro. They don't look exactly alike but they have exactly the same cheeky smile.

The point though! There was a dude in the pub with something I never expected to see...........A Charlton FC shirt with 'Bent' on the back! I can't imagine they sell like hot cakes to footie fans.

Keeping to the same theme......Jerusalem artichokes! They're lovely. I'm a big fan, I even put them in curries.

My mind's full of visions but there's room in my bed....

Right! I've done the washing up and load II (the revenge) of laundry is in't machine.

I decided to wash up cos my good friend Potty Mouth phoned up and I like to multi task (as I have said earlier). In fact:

Proof Men Can Multitask - 5

This afternoon I did the dishes whilst conversing at length on the phone. I did smash a glass, but that's not the point. I also ended up with a sore neck.

Anyhoo, old Pots used to work with me in Leadenhall Street in the department named after a character in Cheers. He's a posh sounding bloke who is actually a trained cellist but ended up in corporate hell. Since then he did a stint in the corporate monolith but moved on three times and now earns a fair chunk. Not bad for a lazy waster.

His favourite story of us, is me and him sat in a pub in the City. We're sitting in a pub opposite each other. (and I must say at this point that his moniker is because he is the master of being non-PC. To be fair, I dabble a bit but he is like at 1970's northen comic with added sewage). We've been chatting for a while and I looked him up and down and said "You know, I look at me and I look at you......and I am SO much better than you".

He still laughs aboot it today. Some people like my crueller humour. One day I'll discuss another good friend Mank........

Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes! He's been a bit depressed recently so he gets a doctors appointment last week. He's sitting in the waiting room and he suddenly thinks 'Shit! What am I going to tell him? I haven't thought this through'. So he starts making up the story.

He goes in and it goes a bit like this:
Doctor: "So Mr Mouth, how can I help you?"
Potty Mouth: "I've been suffering from depression since November"
Doctor: "How does this manifest itself?"
Potty Mouth: [and this is where he starts making it up, really he's just been feeling a bit down] "Well......I have suicidal thoughts and I've been looking up suicide on the internet. Also I've been having obsessive thoughts about things like losing my hair"
Anyhoo, the doctor is looking a bit worried and refers him to a Psychiatrist (whom Pottster will not see as he realises he's overdone it)
Potty Mouth "I have a little lump on my leg too.........."

The man is a misguided genius. I gave him the old Trunks pep talk. he needs a woman really and therein lies the problem. I did remind him that the only time we went out looking for lasses we met two danish eskimos and that cheered him up.

All the time he was heavy breathing whilst talking to me. He assured me it was because he was on an excercise bike.

It seems like yesterday, you had me and I had everyone.......

Thanks to the genius of Nat and Jane I have added site maps and counters.

It's Sunday and I slept till 12:30 (despite Baby Bear (the cat) trying to wake me up and eat my hand). I feel almost refreshed. Sadly I must now wash up, hoover and cook.

On a brighter note 'potty mouth' passed his driving test. Congratulations Potty.

We said our lines, then kissed and it was over......

So! What has the spunkmeister been up to then?

Working mainly, and going out drinking a lot.

Tuesday, I worked late and then met a beautiful friend, who I shall refer to as 'The Barber', at Bond Street. I took her for a few pints and then an italian meal. I must say, we've known each other over 10 years now and she's still gorgeous.

[Flashback]
A more youthful Spunky and Budget Boy are living in St Johns Wood and are burning the candle both ends. A typical week can be a frenzy of clubbing. This week:
Monday - The Underworld, Camden - Indie club famous for my kissing a young girl and then seeing her with another guy. I bumped into her the next week and accused her of 'treating me like a piece of meat' she looked quite guilty until I wandered off giggling.
Also the home of short arsed rap king, who when engaged in social discourse with myself decided to demostrate his rapping skills whilst simultaneously gobbing in my face.
Also the place where I met a nice young vetrinary nurse. I asked her for her number at the end of the night and she said "Are you going to phone me?" to which I said "no". I mean if she hadn't asked I would've phoned. But sometimes you have to say something contrary to what you should for comedy alone. Makes a good anecdote too. I never saw her again......
Tuesday - Los Locos, Just off Soho Square (sadly no more) - Bottled beer £1 each. Spanish Club famous for its shite food and the genesis of one of my best tricks to meet ladies. (I would tell you this, but then I'd have lost my edge when I next come out of semi-retirement).
Myself and Budget met 'Famous Argentinian' and 'Spanish White' in here. Halcyon days.
Wednesday - Hombres al Bahia, Just off Oxford Street - Budweiser £1 a bottle. Poxy eighties styled club, with VIP area and pools tables.
Not much happened here except for meeting Zammo 'Just say no' Maguire. He was a midget and was failing to pull (even at 3am, and everyone is good looking at 3am!). Next I heard of him he was working as a fix it man at my mate Minky's office.



















Zammo saying "No" yesterday

Speaking of which! Minky phoned me all the way from New Zealand when I was on the M1 today. He's having a baby! Why are my friends doing this to me?

Thursday - Any club we can find It was always hard to find somwhere cheap on Thursday and we weren't men of means in those days

Anyhoo! It gets to Friday and I'm shattered. I've been going to work (as a banking menial) every day on aboot 2-3 hours sleep. I get home and Budget says:

"Come on, let's go for lasties". "No" I risposte. He asks me twice more and I say "yes" (I lack willpower).

So off we head to O'Henerys. Once the best pub in Swiss Cottage. Now a bit too normal. O'Henerys was famous for the night Budget told it's most famous regular Fred that he looked like Ronnie Corbett. An amusing scuffle ensued with all 4'11" of 50 year old Fred trying to attack a 6' Budget.
Also notable for me being chatted up (a rare occurrence) by a young Aussie lady (it was a big antipodean hangout). She says to me "it's my birthday, are you coming to my party?", I say "No, I don't know who you are" and walk off. I was greatly castigated for this as she was very pleasant. However, being chatted up freaks me out.
So.....anyway......we're stood on't balcony chatting and two lovely ladies down in the beer garden keep looking at us. A tallish pale blonde and small dusky brunette. Budget turns to me and says "Come on! We have to!" So off we trot over and I open with the classic line "So....what's your favourite colour?" ((This is only just better than my worst ever line: "Did you know there are more ants in the world than people? Where are they all?")). Next thing you know, we're all chatting and I hear Budget say "Do you fancy going clubbing?" so on it went.......

[Back to present]
Wednesday - Work then onto the work quiz night. Our team 'Kittens Without Mittens' (which I was told was a gay name by a group of girls. When I retorted that it was actually a euphemism for shaven lady bits they took it back (which it isn't actually but it should be and it seemed like a decent response)) consisted of:
Spunky Trunks
Angry
Cro Magnon Man
The Welsh Wizard
The Line Manager of the Emotions (late drop out replaced by the Gulay Archipelago)
Mekon
We came second but blame that on the 'making a tractor with playdoh round'
Another late night with lots of beer.

Thursday - worked till 8 and then went to meet Dougy Fresh, Microphone Head and Cazzy G. Cazzy G is a great friend of mine. We lived together in Finchley Towers for 4 years and I used to put pint pots of urine outside his door at university.
He has also had a child and named it after a famous quiz master.

Friday - worked till 8 and finally finished the presentation and so had a few beers chatting the the Dome, Pinkster, The Hammer, Hethers and Mott the Hoople. The Dome and Hethers are becoming flatmates! Lord help the world.

Anyway I'm bored of typing and it's 2 am so that pretty much concludes my week.

I once went out with a girl who had a copy of War and Peace in her bookshelf, I bet to this day (and it was 14 years ago) she still has a slip of paper halfway through with "I bet you never read this x x" scribbled on it. If you're reading this Sexy Squaw go check it.

Night all!

You never were one to use caution......

Ack! What a hectic week.....

I'll discuss that later though. I am fresh back from Liverpool having travelled up to see the mighty blues.

It's a long way to travel to see a rather lame 2.2 draw. (I have included a picture on the monkey visaged Richard Wright as he is the biggest donkey in the team).

I had to get up at 7 (and watch a bit of Doctor Who.... it was that Pertwee Gummidge bloke and they were on this mutant planet......and his assitant was a fox (but not as big a fox as Peri - not that I've ever watched Doctor Who, but I just remember seeing this major minx called Peri) and everyone was dressed either like scottish mentallers or S&M bikers.....so I got a bit distracted anyway....) feed the cat, put some washing on and pump up the back tyre of the trusty Toyota (aboot 300 foot pumpngs).

Peri Yesterday (foxette)

I then have to drive to Dartford, hide my car down a sneaky alleyway and yomp to the roundaboot before the tunnel to be picked up by my good friend 'Top Goon' in his APC. Then, along with his two magnificent blue sons, we drive all the way to Goodison Park. Get there aboot one ish, quick pint and then into the ground for a scouse pie (and a steak one as I was hungry and love pies).

We then get to enjoy 90 minutes of football (to be fair it can be more like 5 minutes the way we play sometimes).

Then it's out the ground, leg it across Stanley Park to the APC and back home. (with a sneaky stop at KFC or Mr Beak for a touch a dat righteous fried chickan) On the way I usually do them a bit of quiz to keep awake.

Tonight I was home quite early, roundaboot 10pm.

So, all in all a 14 hours to see 90 minutes of footie. Insanity.

Mind you, we're playing Charlton next week and that's 10 minutes away. Can't be bad!