Tag Archives: Thoughts

End of Days

Tomorrow, CW4 is leaving us to move to London. He is…. he is……

He is about as stealthy as the T-Rex from Jurassic park and when he visits the floor above ours in the building…. we can track his progress across the floor. He is also the reason restraining orders exist, I am sure. He is obsessively bulking and gyming all of the time.

When not stomping around looking for food or being reported by women he is most likely to be found complaining about how he doesn’t have a can of Stella in his hand.

So here I have documented his best (this being the operative word) moments, including the entirety of our last pub meal together. He actually leaves tomorrow, but myself and two other people are not around, so unfortunately I will be missing the moment he gets gifted with his leaving presents, including ‘The Wankers Guide to Masturbation‘. Which you can buy here. Forever alone, I guess.


CW1: “Wait, let’s see if we can hear him!”

All listening to CW4 walk around on the floor above us.

Everyone: “Yup!”

Me: “Imagine trying to go ghost hunting with him, you’d be screwed. ‘I think I hear something…. Wait, someone check CW4 wasn’t moving around in a neighbouring town.’

CW1: “In a hostage situation, if we were hiding, I’d be like ‘You can get the hell away from me.’

CW5: “Imagine his SAS training…”

Me: “Yeah, if he parachuted in on the roof of a skyscraper they’d hear him down on the third floor.”

CW3: “Can we ask him to walk…”

CW5: “Normally? I can try, I mean… Right now it just sounds like he’s trying to break his own feet.”

CW1: “But he’s not hurting anyone right now except his own feet.”

Me: “And the structural integrity of the building. If this place falls down they’ll need to do an investigation into CW4.”

CW4 returns…

CW1: “We can hear you upstairs. We tested this time.”

CW4: “I think you’re joking though.”

Me: “We are not.”

CW1: “For lent we think you should give up storming.”

CW4: “I can’t even give up smoking, let alone storming.”

Me: “Storming is life!”

CW6: “That needs to be a t-shirt.”


Myself and CW3 pretending to shoot ourselves in the head due to regular CW4 bullshit.

Me: “Actually that kinda hurt, my nails are too long.”


CW4, during office table tennis tournament: “I’ve got my last match tomorrow. Someone’s gonna lose.”

Me: “Yes; statistically someone will lose.”

CW4: “Yeah, but pray it isn’t me.”

Me: “You want me to pray for you?”

CW3: “Hayley doesn’t pray.”

CW6: “If Hayley prayed for you, you’d burst into flames.”

Me: “I probably wouldn’t even mean to. It would just happen.”


CW4: “I didn’t like the man who presented. He kept doing weird hand movements.”

Everyone, watching CW4 flap his arms around: “…….”

CW4: “What was it CW3 said? He said limp….”

Me: “Limp-wristed?”

CW4: “No, no, Limp Biscuit!”

Me: “Oh my God, Fred Durst was presenting at a Google Training day!?”

CW4: “I don’t think that was his name.”

Everyone: “…………….”


CW4: “Is psychology the one where you have to answer riddles?”

Me: “I’m not trying to Indiana Jones my way into a tomb…”

CW4: “No, like if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around.”

CW5: “That’s philosophy.”

CW4: “What’s that?”

CW5: “You literally just…… Never mind.”


More than once CW5 has put pepper into CW4’s tea.

CW5: “For his last day I was going to prank him by putting cyanide in his tea.”

Me: “That’s a big step up from pepper.”

CW5: “It’s the natural progression.”

Me: “I mean… whether he leaves on his own two feet or he’s carried out, the important thing is he is leaving.”


The Final Meal

It should be noted that CW4 did invite the receptionist who he is not so secretly in love with.

She said she’d come along.

She did not.


CW4: “I feel so stressed.”

CW5: “Well most people have a break between jobs. You leave Friday, move to London during the weekend and start work on Monday.”

CW4: “Yeah, that was a dick move.”

Me – “That should probably be written on his gravestone. ‘Here lies CW4. That was a dick move.'”

CW4: “The only day of rest I’ll have is the Saturday. Every Saturday, on my way to Asda, I go to the park with a can of beer, smoke a cig and watch the swans.”

Me: “I can’t, I’m actually dying right now. I can’t breathe.”

CW6: “Do you ever reflect on your previous weeks there?”

CW4: “Yes!”

Me – “The bench feels a bit different today…”

CW4: “I don’t sit down.”

Me: “Oh shit, he doesn’t even have time to sit. He’s got places to stomp.”


CW1: “So who is getting him smashed at the social?”

CW4: “I’m not going.”

Everyone: “What!? Why aren’t you going?”

CW4: “Well why are none of you going? CW6 never goes. CW3 is on holiday. CW7’s wife is pregnant. CW1 has a wedding. Hayley…”

Me: “I hate people.”

CW4: “Hayley hates people! Why do I have to go!?”

CW1: “Because it’s your last one!”

Me: “It’s not on rest day is it? He can’t go on his rest day.”

CW4: “Nah, that’s not it.”

CW1: “Then what is it?”

CW4, looking wistfully at the ceiling: “………………..”

CW6: “I’ve never seen him so quiet.”

Me: “I imagine that’s the face he pulls when he’s watching the swans.”

CW6: “I hope he has sad music playing in the background…”


CW1: “Highlights? Lowlights? Speech?”

CW6: “Yeah! Speech!”

Me: “Shouldn’t he wait for tomorrow on his actual last day?”

CW6: “But a lot of us aren’t here.”

Me: “I know.”


CW4: “I don’t think I had any problems with any of you. I mean, I’ve never worked with you two. (Me and CW1.) I wish I had.”

CW3: “Hayley doesn’t.”


CW4, talking about the receptionist: “I asked her to thread my eyebrows and I wondered how that would work because I’ve only ever had them done by a dude….”

Me: “Yeah… women have opposable thumbs too.”

CW4: “Actually, I was thinking about the view I would have when she leans over…”

Everyone: “OH DEAR JESUS CW4!”

CW5, downing beer.


CW4: “I said I’d have to cut down my drinking when I move to London, but that’s not gonna happen, is it?”

CW6: “Nah mate.”

CW1: “You might have to when it’s 10 quid a pint.”

CW4: “I’m gonna have to find a new park…”

CW6: “Do you name the swans when you’re there?”

CW4: “I named one Daniel.”


Getting back to work and seeing the receptionist has put up a sign at the desk.

CW3: “Ooh, receptionist is currently unavailable.”

Me: “That’s just for CW4’s benefit.”


CW5: “How do you think he’ll react to the book we got him?”

CW3, putting on a voice: “Huh, huh, huh, you guys know me so well.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s it. I don’t even need to be here tomorrow.”


CW6 found a video that sums up both a) CW4’s natural stomp and b) the video we made of all the guys trying to reinact that natural stomp, which I can’t include here because here doesn’t technically exist, as far as they are concerned.

For other CW4 related posts, if you’re really that interested, check out the below because… HE AIN’T EVER COMIN’ BACK!
(I realised this is a bit confusing as someone left and he changed from CW5 to CW4…. I’m sure you can figure out which speaker he is from the dumbassery leaving his mouth, though.)

The ‘H’ is Silent
Fire Drill 101
Technique
Paranoia
Skincare
Laughter is the Best Medicine
Morals
Bro’s Gold

Sabotage

Mom – “Don’t forget to put that stew in the fridge.”

Me – “Does it need to go in the fridge? I’m heating it up again tomorrow.”

Mom – “Yes! It’s got meat and veg in it! You’ll give yourself food poisoning!”

Me – “….”

Mom – “No. Don’t even think about giving yourself food poisoning to get out of work. I saw that face… It’s the kind of face I’d pull when I’m thinking….”

Together – “Is it worth it?”

They don’t half come up with some shit. I did hear him saying at one point:

‘We work 9-5 in an office 5 days a week when we should be utilising our current technology; for a modern company we are very old fashioned with how we work.’

Which he countered with OH LOOK HOW CRAZY AND INNOVATIVE WE ARE BY MAKING EVERYONE IN THE OFFICE MOVE SEATS DEPENDING ON CLIENT RATHER THAN TEAM!!

Fuck. Off. With your turn of the century, two hour long PowerPoint presentation and shove it up your arse.

After the world’s most boring, uninformative company meeting known to man.

Lists: Weird Shit I See On My Work Commute – March Edition

And we’re back with another rousing list of ‘Weird Shit I See On My Work Commute’. Let’s dive straight in, shall we?

Lollipop Ladies at Traffic Lights

So recently, in the town I work, there have been some major roadworks outside of a high school I have the misfortune of passing on my route to and from the office.

Previously there was a lollipop lady who was wedged between two sets of traffic lights about 10 feet away from her on either side. You can imagine both how annoying this was and how awful traffic could get on the road when you’d just gotten past one traffic light only to have this mental, luminous woman jump out from behind a truck with a stick, towing children behind her like the friggin Pied Piper.

Apparently the council thought the best way to combat this was to give the lollipop lady her own set of traffic lights! No joke…. When a kid wanders up to her she presses the red button for them because, I don’t know, they can’t be trusted not to just graffiti the fuck outta it and give the little green man a massive penis or something.

She then waits with them until the light changes red and, despite traffic stopping for the red light…. she stands in the middle of the road to help the children cross. Again, I don’t know whether without her guidance the kids would wander outside of the designated walkway and end up playing in the traffic but there we have it. What’s worse is when more kids rock up to the lights and, beside them turning green, this woman is still standing in the road loving life.

I mean, actually there is something worse. Finally getting past the obstacle that is the lollipop lady and getting stopped at more traffic lights 10 feet away by more children.

The Pink Power Ranger

It’s not the first time I’ve seen the pink Power Ranger outside of a TV screen. This meeting – where a woman dressed entirely in pink with white trainers, white gloves and her hood up was walking down the road – reminded me of the first time I had seen the Power Ranger on a bus in Wolverhampton. I managed to find the message I had sent to my friend a million years ago copied into a note:

I don’t know I mean… the pink power ranger is sitting in front of me on the bus reading the chapter on drugs from Lily Savage’s autobiography and using a random Mexican man’s Royal Maid ID as a bookmark so… I feel I have to now

God only knows what I went on to do; the Pink Power Ranger overshadowed anything that came after.

Extreme Drunk Cycling

This guy was one of my favourites. I mean, except for the worry that as he got closer he was just going to fall into my stationary car and claim I ran him over because as far as he was concerned the entire world was racing around him.

It was difficult to miss him when I could see him 20 feet from the traffic lights weaving around the empty pavement like was navigating a crowd. The irony he had to brake sharply for the inanimate lamppost and seemed shocked to find it there.

At this point I was still unsure whether the man was drunk or just very tired – it was early in the morning. He shattered all doubt, however, when he began to shout at a mannequin wearing a wedding dress in the bridal shop window as he zigzagged past.

The Fake Window

Again. Traffic lights. People are gonna believe I have some weird obsession with them. Anyway, I was sitting at the traffic lights when I looked up at a house and thought ‘Oh, how pretty, they have coordinated their door, door frame and window frames to compliment each other. That’s really nice. Especially the upstairs middle window where even the glass looks… looks… non-reflective… and… flat… almost like it’s been painted on and stuck up in the place a window should be.. In fact, that is exactly what has happened. Why would someone do that?’

Now you know people, never let anything perturb you, not even the basic structural design of your house.

The thought of being pregnant doesn’t bother me. It’s the thought of what happens when I stop being pregnant.” – Me, being asked if I am too scared to have children

(Note: I am 25. I do not have children, I do not want children, I hate children and anything I – no doubt accidentally – produce will be the literal spawn of Satan. I don’t mean does drugs, robs and commits general crime sort of Satan. I mean the world starts shaking, the ground splits open and the whole hospital is dragged down into hell with me sort of Satan. You know. Me 2.0.)