I don’t remember seeing the Chaos Party as a choice… But if I had I probably would have voted for them.
CW5 – “I can’t believe I got told off because I was smoking outside during the fire drill. Other people were doing it.”
CW6. “I can see their point, if it was a real fire, but I guess as long as you didn’t light your cigarette off the building.”
Me – “Just casually light that up on the burning staircase as we go.”
CW5 – “It’s not really like… a bag of fire though, is it? I’m not holding a burning wood log.”
CW6 – “… We’re not saying your started it, we’re saying you could light your cigarette off it…”
CW5 – “… Oh….”
CW6 – “Another time being a smart arse failed for you…”
Me – “To be honest I, personally, want to hear more about this ‘bag of fire’.”
The team played this quick game from Sporcle where you basically just beat the shit out of your keyboard and try to beat the time. Obviously the surrounding teams in the office loved us when 8 people started hammering on the space bar – aka. noisiest bar on earth – and shouting at each other across the desk.
5 minutes later…
Me – “CW5, are you doing it again?”
CW5 – “I’m just trying different techniques.”
Me – “Oh my God, you’re not….”
CW1 – “It’s just not that deep…”
Me – “How many techniques are there… to hit a key… on the keyboard…?”
CW5 – “You’d be surprised, Hayley.”
Me – “Oh, I don’t think I would.”
CW7 – “There’s two ways. With your hand and with your head.”
Me – “You mean when I smash the keyboard over CW5’s head?”
CW7 – “Yeah, that.”
Tomorrow the whole of our team is attending training with Google, except for myself and CW6.
CW4 – “Do we need to take our laptops with us?”
CW2 – “I would just in case someone needs to get in contact with us urgently to change something in a campaign. Don’t forget, there are only two people in this office tomorrow.”
Me – “Yes. And only 50% of them care enough to help you out.”
So, I have been ridiculously busy lately with the 10 million things I do and hobbies I have to try and distract myself from the fact I live on a shitty, weather-beaten island sinking under the weight of its own stupidity.
However, it becomes harder to put something to one side when you have to see it with your own eyes. Here is a list, for your eyes, of things I have seen in the last fortnight driving to and from work:
Man humping a digger
I’m starting strong here because this was by far my favourite thing from the last fortnight. Unfortunately the workman was not actually standing and humping the arm of his digger (if he was then 8am in the morning during roadworks next to a set of traffic lights whilst wearing a Hi Vis jacket was not the way to go), but was actually trying to pull a lever up on the side of the arm.
Instead of standing to the side of the lever to try and move it he was instead standing at the front of the arm and just… consistently ramming himself into it whilst he struggled. I thought I was seeing a true love story. Real. Brave. True love.
Just a man struggling with his digger. His friend eventually came to help but by then my lights had changed to green and I was laughing far too hysterically to safely drive through the 20 mph school zone. I may have almost mowed down the lollipop lady – but she does have a habit of jumping out from behind buses and trucks.
I don’t think she’s happy in her current job.
Now, in the town I work there are bins next to all of the bus stops or bus shelters. If you were after a bin you would just need to follow the nearest bus route.
Hooooowever, at another set of traffic lights, which is inconveniently right next to a bus stop, I looked across the road and saw a bin. In a hedge. Hovering 4 foot off the floor. And the people waiting for the bus were not perturbed in the slightest by this!
It wasn’t the type of bin that looked as if it were capable of free-standing, and might get blown over in a light breeze, so I can really only assume that the council had wedged it into some poor, unsuspecting homeowner’s hedge to keep in line with the town’s mathematical code:
Bus stop = Bin
Dramatic Entering of a Car
Honest to God this stuff always happens when I get stopped at a red light.
On a little slip road two guys were having a massive argument next to their cars, I can only presume someone cut someone up or almost ran into them and they’d parked up in order to argue this out like primates in the jungle.
The argument ended pretty quickly when Guy #2 walked back to his car and flung his door open so violently it wrenched out of his hand and bounced back, before excruciatingly slowly and very gently swinging back closed.
The two guys just looked at each other for a couple of moments before Guy #2 yelled something unintelligible, opened his door again and dived head first into the car.
Most of my route to and from work is spent on a road that is 60mph and cuts through lots of fields and farmland. I rarely get to drive at 60mph. Even if I did my car begins to whistle if it hits anything over 70 and I fear it will just fall over itself.
This is my exact car but… cleaner. Here Citroen is giving the impression of speed. They are lying. If the car was really driving that quickly the wing mirrors and tyres would have flown off by now.
Anyway, luckily I was not driving at 60mph otherwise I would have missed the man on the side of the road, emerging from an actual hedge, in an Hawaiian themed shirt and pink shorts…. eating an icecream. I mean… It’s still pretty much winter in England, for all that amounts to.
If only we could all live like the hedge people.
Kieran – “Look, Bear Grylls has a diet book out.”
Me – “Is it a diet book because it involves me climbing a tree, beating my dinner to death with a stick and then only eating half of it? Raw?”
Kieran – “Very much not.”
Me, looking at the cover – “Oh no, he has a blender!”
Just a note, binging on any Bear Grylls series is a favourite Sunday pastime of mine.
Kieran, however, is not so excited about seeing a grown man drink his own piss out of a sock.
Kieran – “Shall we go for a drink down the local pub?”
Me – “Yeah, sure! Or we can drink in the house and not get stabbed.”
This is not an overreaction on my part. The pub around the corner from my house (The Talisman) is cordoned off by police tape more often than it isn’t. May I also point out this pub is literally over the road from a children’s centre/primary school.
Early last year a drug raid was done on the place and, subsequently, a few weeks followed with dirty banners hung up outside the building with ‘Save our Tally’ scribbled on them.
Eventually the pub reopened, because apparently evening out the rocky patch of land they called the car park and having some parking spaces painted on the floor meant they were now upstanding citizens and definitely weren’t ever going to sell drugs on the premises again.
Or stab anyone. Or shoot anyone.
It’s amazing what a clearly outlined parking space can do for your mental well-being.
Me, watching ‘London has Fallen‘ – “How does he seem to know where he’s going so well to protect the President? I wouldn’t know where the hell I was in London if my helicopter had just been blown out the sky… and he’s American!”
Mom – “He’s not American.”
Me – “…. Yes he is.”
Mom – “No he isn’t! Gerard Butler is Scottish!”
Me – “OH! So because Gerard Butler, the actor, is Scottish then every character he plays has a working knowledge of London… Which STILL makes no sense!”
Card pushed through the door by Amazon:
Your parcel has been left in your preferred safe place:
Me – “Yeah, sure, that’s where I keep all of my treasured possessions. Hope they didn’t steal all those priceless family heirlooms while they were in there.”