…and he ain't 'alf 'appy
Without the need for an flamboyant introduction with dancing girls, shooting canons, a barking dog, a juggling racoon and a neon sign that reads "Wahoo", Wiggy tried to announce the arrival of the first ever Wiggy Phone App at the pre-launch launch.
The following infrequently asked questions were raised infrequently by potential and yet infrequent app people (appees) at the App Conference for Interested Members
HOW MUCH DOES IT COST?
It's 100% FREE... 200% in fact...
YOU SAY IT'S FREE, BUT I DON'T BELIEVE YOU.
Yes it really is FREE...
ARE YOU SURE IT'S FREE?
Yes, it costs you nothing, zippo, ziltch...
No small print exclusion or hidden agendas...
We're not even asking for a donation!
SO IT'S TOTALLY FREE?
Yes
EXCUSE ME, DO YOU KNOW A KEITH WHO LIVES IN SUNDERLAND?
No, but I know a Keith who lives in Birmingham. Try Him.
WHERE CAN I GET THIS "FREE" APP?
Please remove those quotations around FREE, it's genuinely free...
SORRY, WHERE CAN I GET THIS FREE APP?
That's better... It's already on your phone. We transferred it there using WTTP (Patent Pending) when you first switched on your phone.
BUT WHAT IF I DIDN'T WANT IT ON MY PHONE?
Well, you agreed to receive it by switching on your phone. It was your choice.
MY CHOICE?
Yes, your choice. Like you chose to receive your daily experiences by getting out of bed!
WHAT IS WTTP ANYWAY?
It's a new method for downloading Apps to phone - Wiggy patent pending
WHAT DOES WTTP STAND FOR?
Wiggy's Telepathic Transfer Protocol
EXCUSE ME, DO YOU KNOW A KEITH WHO LIVES IN BIRMINGHAM?
Yes, but I think he moved to Sunderland recently.
WHAT DOES THIS APP DO?
You're the first person to ask this... have a free pen.
THANKS, BUT YOU DIDN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION... WHAT DOES THIS APP DO?
Sorry that's already been asked, I'm afraid you can't have a pen.
NO REALLY WHAT DOES IT DO?
Oh, sorry madam I didn't recognise you with your beard on.
Well the app seamlessly blends in to your phone... almost camouflaged you could say.
Yet it affects all apps and functions you currently have on your phone.
MMM…THAT SOUNDS INTERESTING.
Yes, the amazing thing about this app is that you've always had it there. The difference is now that Wiggy wants to make you aware of it.
OK...HOW COME I HAVEN'T NOTICED IT?
Well you wouldn’t notice it, it's just other people who notice it whilst you utilise your phone. You see the app we developed transforms you from a normal considerate human being, into a dawdling idiot whilst you use your phone in the public arena.
It’s of particular effectiveness in thin footpaths or crowded rush hour railway platforms.
It means that whilst using your phone, you will walk slowly, zig zag and genuinely get in everybody’s way - unless of course they too are using the same app.
THIS SOUNDS DREADFUL...I DON'T WANT THIS. HOW DO I REMOVE THIS APP?
Speak to Keith… He lives in Sunderland.
Tuesday 26 July 2011
Friday 15 July 2011
A Little Gnome Fact
but there's no book!
There are no Gnomes listed in the Sunday Times Rich List, in fact Gnomes are some of the poorest members of our planet. Earning less than 50p a year.
There are no Gnomes listed in the Sunday Times Rich List, in fact Gnomes are some of the poorest members of our planet. Earning less than 50p a year.
Wednesday 13 July 2011
Extreme Corner
A little known fact
An extreme corner is one that usually goes by un-noticed. It is often so extremely slight that it appears to be a straight line. Other types of extreme corner turn the traveller through very nearly 360 degrees and spew them out into almost the same direction as they started. Many people are unaware of the rotational aspect and claim to be walking directly towards their goal.
This topic is fully covered in the newly published book "The unwritten guide to Sat Nav"
http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-unwritten-guide-to-sat-nav/10945529
An extreme corner is one that usually goes by un-noticed. It is often so extremely slight that it appears to be a straight line. Other types of extreme corner turn the traveller through very nearly 360 degrees and spew them out into almost the same direction as they started. Many people are unaware of the rotational aspect and claim to be walking directly towards their goal.
This topic is fully covered in the newly published book "The unwritten guide to Sat Nav"
http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-unwritten-guide-to-sat-nav/10945529
Friday 8 July 2011
A modern Mills and Boon
New Romantic Novels
It is the opinion of a certain wigster that most romantic novels are tripe and need updating to reflect modern romances, he suggests the following:
The Shrapnel Affair - Shrapnel is a 13 years girl who falls for the ways of a birberry baseball cap wearing lad, 3 months later she's pregnant, single and on an ASBO. He joins the forces but never gets posted overseas. In a final bizarre twist a grenade goes off in the barracks and he narrowly misses getting injured by shrapnel.
The love triangle - Kanetta is a 21 year old woman who has previously met her dream man on two occasions and mothered their children. She's now living in a high-rise council flat, dumped again and trying to beat a drum and bass addiction. Then she meets an Sunderland man who prefers house and garage. Together they try to find a percussive instrument in common but never find it. They settle on a tambourine but are never quite content.
You're only human - Brucetta is an Italian masterpiece, all the men adore her and she has any man she wants. Then she meets a man that shows no interest in her and she becomes obsessed... laughing at his jokes, flicking back her hair and wearing even shorter skirts. She eventually finds out he's gay, blind and deaf.
The lady in the lake - Spearmint is a 37 year old female who used to be a male. She longs for a relationship but no guy is interested because of the beard. Tragically she continues to spend more than she earns in the lakeside shopping centre.
The ugly ducking - Invigorance is a lady who has been hit with the ugly stick, every night she puts on her lippy and prowls the streets only to return home alone. A heart warming story of survival in a male dominated society which values form over substance. She never turns into a swan.
Withering Heights - A very tall man suffers the indignity of shrinking to normal size. He is featured on a channel 4 documentary about strange medical cases and briefly attracts the wrong sort of attention from the tabloid media.
It is the opinion of a certain wigster that most romantic novels are tripe and need updating to reflect modern romances, he suggests the following:
The Shrapnel Affair - Shrapnel is a 13 years girl who falls for the ways of a birberry baseball cap wearing lad, 3 months later she's pregnant, single and on an ASBO. He joins the forces but never gets posted overseas. In a final bizarre twist a grenade goes off in the barracks and he narrowly misses getting injured by shrapnel.
The love triangle - Kanetta is a 21 year old woman who has previously met her dream man on two occasions and mothered their children. She's now living in a high-rise council flat, dumped again and trying to beat a drum and bass addiction. Then she meets an Sunderland man who prefers house and garage. Together they try to find a percussive instrument in common but never find it. They settle on a tambourine but are never quite content.
You're only human - Brucetta is an Italian masterpiece, all the men adore her and she has any man she wants. Then she meets a man that shows no interest in her and she becomes obsessed... laughing at his jokes, flicking back her hair and wearing even shorter skirts. She eventually finds out he's gay, blind and deaf.
The lady in the lake - Spearmint is a 37 year old female who used to be a male. She longs for a relationship but no guy is interested because of the beard. Tragically she continues to spend more than she earns in the lakeside shopping centre.
The ugly ducking - Invigorance is a lady who has been hit with the ugly stick, every night she puts on her lippy and prowls the streets only to return home alone. A heart warming story of survival in a male dominated society which values form over substance. She never turns into a swan.
Withering Heights - A very tall man suffers the indignity of shrinking to normal size. He is featured on a channel 4 documentary about strange medical cases and briefly attracts the wrong sort of attention from the tabloid media.
Thursday 7 July 2011
OCD or just ODD?
My peculiar sweet eating technique
Whenever I find myself in possession of a bag or tube of sweets, if they come in multiple colours then I have an uncontrollable urge to sort them by the colours of the rainbow. That's the "red and yellow and pink and green, orange and purple and blue..." rainbow song rather than the "Richard of York gave battle in vain" scientific colours.
Not only do I have to sort by colour, but I then also have to eat them in that order too. Any non "rainbow" coloured sweets are eaten on mass at the end.
I've done this for as long as I can remember, but only with sweets. As odd as this may sound, my condition has improved recently as I no longer insist anyone sharing the sweets with me also eats them in the correct colour sequence.
If anyone knows a cure, then please comment!
Whenever I find myself in possession of a bag or tube of sweets, if they come in multiple colours then I have an uncontrollable urge to sort them by the colours of the rainbow. That's the "red and yellow and pink and green, orange and purple and blue..." rainbow song rather than the "Richard of York gave battle in vain" scientific colours.
Not only do I have to sort by colour, but I then also have to eat them in that order too. Any non "rainbow" coloured sweets are eaten on mass at the end.
I've done this for as long as I can remember, but only with sweets. As odd as this may sound, my condition has improved recently as I no longer insist anyone sharing the sweets with me also eats them in the correct colour sequence.
If anyone knows a cure, then please comment!
I don't blog
TGC does not blog
Unlike most other wigsters, I don't blog. I find the whole idea of it disgusting. Writing a load of bunkum in the vain hope someone will read it and think you're somehow some kind of super star. A blogging super star? Who are they kidding.
Good, I've got that out in the open and now we all know where we stand.
Unlike most other wigsters, I don't blog. I find the whole idea of it disgusting. Writing a load of bunkum in the vain hope someone will read it and think you're somehow some kind of super star. A blogging super star? Who are they kidding.
Good, I've got that out in the open and now we all know where we stand.
BREAKING NEWS
You for coffee?
A bunch of scientists in white coats today announced to the Wiggy Wigster community and some others insignificant people, that the secret to staying young is the use of coffee!
"There's magic in those beans" one scientist announced to the crowd at the Annual Report of Scientific Experiments.
The announcement generated so much excited whooping that the entire neighbouring conference, the Annual Notification of Undiscovered Science, burst in to the room and the insisted that the announcement had to be repeated. This resulted in even more louder whooping, which in turn was heard by the British Association of Plastic Surgeons, who then insisted the re-announcement be re-re-announced. They didn’t believe a word of though and retired back to their conference facilities to compare pre and post nose job pictures.
Despite this set back, the majority of listeners where excited by the news that the smearing of processed coffee or caffeine on to the skin was found to reverse the signs of ageing within 3 months. The study involved a number of smokers sporting cappuccino moustaches in public with the aim to reverse the "cat's bum smoking" mouth look from which so many smokers suffer from.
Scientists are looking for keen volunteers to take part in further tests. You may see them out and about on your daily duties.
A bunch of scientists in white coats today announced to the Wiggy Wigster community and some others insignificant people, that the secret to staying young is the use of coffee!
"There's magic in those beans" one scientist announced to the crowd at the Annual Report of Scientific Experiments.
The announcement generated so much excited whooping that the entire neighbouring conference, the Annual Notification of Undiscovered Science, burst in to the room and the insisted that the announcement had to be repeated. This resulted in even more louder whooping, which in turn was heard by the British Association of Plastic Surgeons, who then insisted the re-announcement be re-re-announced. They didn’t believe a word of though and retired back to their conference facilities to compare pre and post nose job pictures.
Despite this set back, the majority of listeners where excited by the news that the smearing of processed coffee or caffeine on to the skin was found to reverse the signs of ageing within 3 months. The study involved a number of smokers sporting cappuccino moustaches in public with the aim to reverse the "cat's bum smoking" mouth look from which so many smokers suffer from.
Scientists are looking for keen volunteers to take part in further tests. You may see them out and about on your daily duties.
Introducing Happy Dog
Not sure why though
This is happy dog.
This is happy dog.
- He doesn't say much
- He does not wear a wig, unlike BigBoyBertie of worldwidewig fame
- To be quite honest we don't really know why he is here
- But he certainly looks happy about it
Wednesday 6 July 2011
Delayed reaction
Isn't it obvious?
You may recall that in July 2007 we told you the story of PP and his magic black cap.
A storm of protest has broken out because no-one has seen the cap.
---------------------
Dear Wigsters,
I have not seen a magic black cap and I am starting to believe that the whole story was made up.
Please clarify.
---------------------
Dear Non-Wigster
Get yourself to worldwidewig.co.uk and get wigging. Meanwhile we can answer your question.
The magical cap has been worn every day for at least a month, but is invisible. We know it's there because PP isn't shivering.
---------------------
Dear Wigsters
OK, ok...I'm now prepared to accept that the hat is invisible... I'm even prepared to accept that PP is wearing it right now, but there is one thing that still bothers me. Say that PP is metaphorically walking along the high street minding his own business as he takes in the sights and smells of the local town, when all of a sudden, whoosh, his hat is blown clean off your head by a local gust. Now an ordinary hat would have a tendency to be found, but an invisible one does lend itself rather well to indefinite camouflage. How would the cap be found? Does he also have an invisible chin strap to prevent such a situation? Does the hat emit a high pitched noise to enable it reclamation? Does PP have a cap homing device?
You may recall that in July 2007 we told you the story of PP and his magic black cap.
A storm of protest has broken out because no-one has seen the cap.
---------------------
Dear Wigsters,
I have not seen a magic black cap and I am starting to believe that the whole story was made up.
Please clarify.
---------------------
Dear Non-Wigster
Get yourself to worldwidewig.co.uk and get wigging. Meanwhile we can answer your question.
The magical cap has been worn every day for at least a month, but is invisible. We know it's there because PP isn't shivering.
---------------------
Dear Wigsters
OK, ok...I'm now prepared to accept that the hat is invisible... I'm even prepared to accept that PP is wearing it right now, but there is one thing that still bothers me. Say that PP is metaphorically walking along the high street minding his own business as he takes in the sights and smells of the local town, when all of a sudden, whoosh, his hat is blown clean off your head by a local gust. Now an ordinary hat would have a tendency to be found, but an invisible one does lend itself rather well to indefinite camouflage. How would the cap be found? Does he also have an invisible chin strap to prevent such a situation? Does the hat emit a high pitched noise to enable it reclamation? Does PP have a cap homing device?
--------------------
Dear Non-Wigster
You are correct. Also, PP's ferret lives in the hat so this has never happened. We hope that clears it up.
A comic genius in our midst
Norbert-D humour at its best
He writes...
Another example of my much under-rated brand of humour:
My son's child minder is German and called Pia (pronounced peer, or pier) - I was discussing the way our appraisal system works here and yes, you've guessed it, I suggested we give her a 'Pia appraisal' - and she laughed! Actually, she's quite cute.
You saw me first here folks, remember that when I'm doing my Christmas special in 2012
He writes...
Another example of my much under-rated brand of humour:
My son's child minder is German and called Pia (pronounced peer, or pier) - I was discussing the way our appraisal system works here and yes, you've guessed it, I suggested we give her a 'Pia appraisal' - and she laughed! Actually, she's quite cute.
You saw me first here folks, remember that when I'm doing my Christmas special in 2012
Ed - More like Christmas lunch in the Little Chef!
An Idiots Guide to Banking
Available in all good bookshops sooner or later
Introduction - Using this Guide
You won't wish to declare publicly that you are an idiot so never read this guide while using banking facilities. If you must refer to instructions contained herein, read out the relevant section into your mobile phone answering service beforehand and retrieve your messages when in the banking hall.
For help in using your mobile phone answering service purchase a copy of "An Idiot's guide to using a mobile phone answering service" by Dr Blower Lower and Norbert-D
Chapter 1 - Getting through the door
You have two choices when trying to get into the bank. You can wait for someone else to open the door, or you can open it yourself.
Tip - Wait for the bank to open
If the door is already open, progress to Chapter 2
Chapter 2 - Walk into the bank and look confident
Smile, look around you.
Tip - Don't clench your teeth, try not to stare wildly.
Walk forward through the door. Do not attempt to walk backwards, as people might think you are leaving.
Chapter 3 - Oops
You are in the wrong bank.
Tip - Pretend that you intended to be here
Collect one of each leaflet and then leave.
Chapter 4: Clothing
Tip - Whatever you do don't point with your hands in your pockets.
Chapter 5 - Queue etiquette
Oh, I forgot, you probably don'y know what etiquette means.
Tip - Ignore this chapter and move to the next one
Chapter 6 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 1)
You cannot choose a cashier based on whether they seem attractive.
Tip - They are all out of your league, even the ugly one on the end.
Pick a number at random and wait for it to be called.
Chapter 7 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 2)
Ignore other customers, especially when they point to a waiting cashier.
Tip - Remember, you chose a number and you must stick to it.
Chapter 8 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 3)
Don't let anybody standing behind you push in front.
Tip - It's your turn next. Nothing else matters.
Keep waiting, not much longer now.
Chapter 9 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 4)
If your number is called and you are not at the front of the queue you can go first.
Tip - Pensioners are easy, just push them aside.
Remember to shout your number out and then say "Thank you, my voices"
Chapter 10 - At the cashiers window
Mmm, quite attractive.
Tip - Maybe not out of your league after all.
Skip the money talk and offer dinner.
Chapter 11 - Using the right words
Ask the cashier if you can be his/her finance.
Tip - Finance is an old fashioned word for betrothal (being engaged).
If the cashier looks puzzled it's probably because he/she is not used to being complimented in this way.
Chapter 12 - Understanding the response
If you are asked "Do you have an account here?" it means "Yes, I'd love to"
Tip - This is similar to "Is the pope a catholic?"
Just smile back, no answer is necessary.
Introduction - Using this Guide
You won't wish to declare publicly that you are an idiot so never read this guide while using banking facilities. If you must refer to instructions contained herein, read out the relevant section into your mobile phone answering service beforehand and retrieve your messages when in the banking hall.
For help in using your mobile phone answering service purchase a copy of "An Idiot's guide to using a mobile phone answering service" by Dr Blower Lower and Norbert-D
Chapter 1 - Getting through the door
You have two choices when trying to get into the bank. You can wait for someone else to open the door, or you can open it yourself.
Tip - Wait for the bank to open
If the door is already open, progress to Chapter 2
Chapter 2 - Walk into the bank and look confident
Smile, look around you.
Tip - Don't clench your teeth, try not to stare wildly.
Walk forward through the door. Do not attempt to walk backwards, as people might think you are leaving.
Chapter 3 - Oops
You are in the wrong bank.
Tip - Pretend that you intended to be here
Collect one of each leaflet and then leave.
Chapter 4: Clothing
Tip - Whatever you do don't point with your hands in your pockets.
Chapter 5 - Queue etiquette
Oh, I forgot, you probably don'y know what etiquette means.
Tip - Ignore this chapter and move to the next one
Chapter 6 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 1)
You cannot choose a cashier based on whether they seem attractive.
Tip - They are all out of your league, even the ugly one on the end.
Pick a number at random and wait for it to be called.
Chapter 7 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 2)
Ignore other customers, especially when they point to a waiting cashier.
Tip - Remember, you chose a number and you must stick to it.
Chapter 8 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 3)
Don't let anybody standing behind you push in front.
Tip - It's your turn next. Nothing else matters.
Keep waiting, not much longer now.
Chapter 9 - What to do while you are in the queue (Part 4)
If your number is called and you are not at the front of the queue you can go first.
Tip - Pensioners are easy, just push them aside.
Remember to shout your number out and then say "Thank you, my voices"
Chapter 10 - At the cashiers window
Mmm, quite attractive.
Tip - Maybe not out of your league after all.
Skip the money talk and offer dinner.
Chapter 11 - Using the right words
Ask the cashier if you can be his/her finance.
Tip - Finance is an old fashioned word for betrothal (being engaged).
If the cashier looks puzzled it's probably because he/she is not used to being complimented in this way.
Chapter 12 - Understanding the response
If you are asked "Do you have an account here?" it means "Yes, I'd love to"
Tip - This is similar to "Is the pope a catholic?"
Just smile back, no answer is necessary.
Chapter 13 - Take the free pen from the counter
That's what they are there for.
That's what they are there for.
Tabloid Journalism
Hold the back page
Norbert-D is trying to come up with tabloid sporting headlines before they are written. Maybe you can do better.
Here's what we have got so far
Match 1: England struggle against Paraguay in the heat of Frankfurt and are beaten.
Headline: Frankfurter Roasting
Match 2: Togo reach the semi final
Headline: Togo To Go Through
Match 3: Horror show against Germany
Headline: Oh! De Cologne
Norbert-D is trying to come up with tabloid sporting headlines before they are written. Maybe you can do better.
Here's what we have got so far
Match 1: England struggle against Paraguay in the heat of Frankfurt and are beaten.
Headline: Frankfurter Roasting
Match 2: Togo reach the semi final
Headline: Togo To Go Through
Match 3: Horror show against Germany
Headline: Oh! De Cologne
Match 4: German players in tennis final
Headline: The Nuremburg Rally
Match Story : Previously unknown player Dark Chickens joins the Togo team for the semi final
Headline : Wig me up before you Togo
Diary of The Grey Cardigan
A half day in the life of The Grey Cardigan
10:00 am
The Grey Cardigan entered the office with his grey cardigan hugging his shoulder in a continental manner, he knew it was an arrogant look but it set off the yellow Fred Perry nicely. His long ginger hair had been tied back with the aid of a scrunchy and two bangles hung either side to frame his face. In his mouth was a shiny black cigarette holder without a cigarette.
"How do you do dear fellow" Grey said to acknowledge his colleague as he passed his desk. "Do you know that its rather splendid outside today, rather splendid indeed old boy"
The rest of his co-workers were not surprised by his mid day arrival, he had become known for his lack of ability to roll up his sleeves and get on with the job in hand.
"One went for a spot of tea in London this morning, most refreshing, most re-fresh-en-ing" Grey continued. By the time of his arrive his colleagues had already undone all of the mistakes he had committed yesterday and somehow caught up with their own work. Grey was a waster, but sleeping with the boss was doing wonders for his career and his previous role as an adult movie star was paying dividends. He had recently celebrated his promotion to an F grade with a case of champagne, which his colleagues had readily devoured despite the companies ban on alcohol and despite their feelings towards him.
As he sat back at his desk he raised his feet and crossed them as he rested them on his teak finished surface, a non-standard desk flown in from Indonesia especially for him. "One just adores, no loves the oil finish of teak." he would be heard to say whenever anyone questioned the £2000 extravagance, let alone the £500 annual oiling expense.
It became mid afternoon, Grey woke from his nap and on his desk was a white envelope, casually pasted in the top right hand corner was a stamp and the envelope had been hand written. Grey picked up his antique letter opener and began to open the letter, a profusion of lemon verbena erupted underneath his nose as he read the immortal words "Dear Grey"
One glimpse of the spidery handwriting was enough to trigger an astonishing reaction within TGC.
He felt like he'd had the wind literally knocked out of him. He described the feeling as being 'Hit for six' in his autobiography written 20 years later. Incidentally 'Hit for Six' was turned into a BAFTA award winning BBC drama starring Daniel Radcliffe.
TGC fumbled the letter back into the Manila envelope. Coincidentally, the letter had come from Manila, a place TGC had thought he would never have to think of again. The business had been "taken care of", it was 'done and dusted guvnor' That's what 'they' had told him.
His heart skipped a beat and his brain sent a text to his bowels warning them to prepare for imminent overtime.
Long since forgotten feelings of dread and guilt returned to haunt him. He felt sick to the core.
After throwing up all over the teak desk, TGC shakily pressed the intercom and summoned his camp but efficient secretary Nigel Lemons. Lemons immediately entered the office and for a brief moment looked shocked and stunned as he observed the pile of spew on the once pristine desk in front of him. The smell of sour milk lay heavy in the air, but Lemons, with his large flared nostrils twitching with unease, simply acted as if this sort of thing was an every day occurrence and carried on.
"Did Sir require anything?"
"Lemons, I need you to get in touch with Paulo Cardosioni. Tell him to meet me at the usual place tomorrow morning at 11:00 a.m. Tell him a life depends on it"
Lemons, pencil in hand, scribbled the instructions onto an A5 notepad and then repeated them back in his camp nasal twang. "Paulo Cardosioni, 11:00 a.m usual place. Straight away Sir'
Lemons shuffled out the room, efficiently of course. He alone knew that in TGC's third draw down was a collection of empty coke cans, and in the fourth draw a loaded gun. Lemons was wearing no pants and had eaten a bowl of Kellogg's Common sense for breakfast. Although interesting it has nothing to do with the plot.
11:10am
"Behold!" shouted a street vendor, "thou hast ne’er seen such a bargain as this, indeed I bring forth a deal of legend! Legend told behind closed doors, past down from generation to generation. Draw nearer least you miss a word, draw closer still..."
Grey watched the street vendor weave his magic sitting outside Cafe Nero drinking a cafe latte, he only needed two more stamps before he got a free one. He was quite chuffed about that. He looked up and down the street for the hundredth time watching out for Paulo, looked at this watch again and sighed. Paulo was late, but then he was always late for this sort of meeting. Grey would much rather get things over with sooner rather than later. He looked over again at the street vendor which had managed to amass quite the crowd.
"Do not fear fair people, soon I will unleash this sale of the century upon you. Some of you my need to sit down for I do ponder the very shock of realisation may send you flying from your feet! I feel the time is upon us one and all, prepare yourself." The street vendor opened his bag, "five lighters for a pound! Get five lighters for a pound!"
The crowd quickly dispersed.
10:00 am
The Grey Cardigan entered the office with his grey cardigan hugging his shoulder in a continental manner, he knew it was an arrogant look but it set off the yellow Fred Perry nicely. His long ginger hair had been tied back with the aid of a scrunchy and two bangles hung either side to frame his face. In his mouth was a shiny black cigarette holder without a cigarette.
"How do you do dear fellow" Grey said to acknowledge his colleague as he passed his desk. "Do you know that its rather splendid outside today, rather splendid indeed old boy"
The rest of his co-workers were not surprised by his mid day arrival, he had become known for his lack of ability to roll up his sleeves and get on with the job in hand.
"One went for a spot of tea in London this morning, most refreshing, most re-fresh-en-ing" Grey continued. By the time of his arrive his colleagues had already undone all of the mistakes he had committed yesterday and somehow caught up with their own work. Grey was a waster, but sleeping with the boss was doing wonders for his career and his previous role as an adult movie star was paying dividends. He had recently celebrated his promotion to an F grade with a case of champagne, which his colleagues had readily devoured despite the companies ban on alcohol and despite their feelings towards him.
As he sat back at his desk he raised his feet and crossed them as he rested them on his teak finished surface, a non-standard desk flown in from Indonesia especially for him. "One just adores, no loves the oil finish of teak." he would be heard to say whenever anyone questioned the £2000 extravagance, let alone the £500 annual oiling expense.
It became mid afternoon, Grey woke from his nap and on his desk was a white envelope, casually pasted in the top right hand corner was a stamp and the envelope had been hand written. Grey picked up his antique letter opener and began to open the letter, a profusion of lemon verbena erupted underneath his nose as he read the immortal words "Dear Grey"
One glimpse of the spidery handwriting was enough to trigger an astonishing reaction within TGC.
He felt like he'd had the wind literally knocked out of him. He described the feeling as being 'Hit for six' in his autobiography written 20 years later. Incidentally 'Hit for Six' was turned into a BAFTA award winning BBC drama starring Daniel Radcliffe.
TGC fumbled the letter back into the Manila envelope. Coincidentally, the letter had come from Manila, a place TGC had thought he would never have to think of again. The business had been "taken care of", it was 'done and dusted guvnor' That's what 'they' had told him.
His heart skipped a beat and his brain sent a text to his bowels warning them to prepare for imminent overtime.
Long since forgotten feelings of dread and guilt returned to haunt him. He felt sick to the core.
After throwing up all over the teak desk, TGC shakily pressed the intercom and summoned his camp but efficient secretary Nigel Lemons. Lemons immediately entered the office and for a brief moment looked shocked and stunned as he observed the pile of spew on the once pristine desk in front of him. The smell of sour milk lay heavy in the air, but Lemons, with his large flared nostrils twitching with unease, simply acted as if this sort of thing was an every day occurrence and carried on.
"Did Sir require anything?"
"Lemons, I need you to get in touch with Paulo Cardosioni. Tell him to meet me at the usual place tomorrow morning at 11:00 a.m. Tell him a life depends on it"
Lemons, pencil in hand, scribbled the instructions onto an A5 notepad and then repeated them back in his camp nasal twang. "Paulo Cardosioni, 11:00 a.m usual place. Straight away Sir'
Lemons shuffled out the room, efficiently of course. He alone knew that in TGC's third draw down was a collection of empty coke cans, and in the fourth draw a loaded gun. Lemons was wearing no pants and had eaten a bowl of Kellogg's Common sense for breakfast. Although interesting it has nothing to do with the plot.
11:10am
"Behold!" shouted a street vendor, "thou hast ne’er seen such a bargain as this, indeed I bring forth a deal of legend! Legend told behind closed doors, past down from generation to generation. Draw nearer least you miss a word, draw closer still..."
Grey watched the street vendor weave his magic sitting outside Cafe Nero drinking a cafe latte, he only needed two more stamps before he got a free one. He was quite chuffed about that. He looked up and down the street for the hundredth time watching out for Paulo, looked at this watch again and sighed. Paulo was late, but then he was always late for this sort of meeting. Grey would much rather get things over with sooner rather than later. He looked over again at the street vendor which had managed to amass quite the crowd.
"Do not fear fair people, soon I will unleash this sale of the century upon you. Some of you my need to sit down for I do ponder the very shock of realisation may send you flying from your feet! I feel the time is upon us one and all, prepare yourself." The street vendor opened his bag, "five lighters for a pound! Get five lighters for a pound!"
The crowd quickly dispersed.
Tea or Coffee
A breakfast time poem
Its now the next morning and thirst takes its first hit,
I think of wig buddies with their humorous good wit,
But they are not here now so who else will do,
What about Chickens? Is he thirsty too?
Its now the next morning and thirst takes its first hit,
I think of wig buddies with their humorous good wit,
But they are not here now so who else will do,
What about Chickens? Is he thirsty too?
He wasn't. I had coffee by myself
The end.
Diary of a football fan
There's always next season
As promised, here is a précis of my Sunday which might make you smile
It was quite an afternoon.
13:00 – My friend John and I go into Earls in Maidstone where I ask the barmaid if they are showing the game. She turns out to be the gobbiest barmaid on planet earth…... In fact her exact words were “****ing hell these blokes want the ****ing football! I suppose you want a ****ing beer too! **** me some people! And they’re ****ing Leeds fans!”. We were very scared.
This ‘banter’ continued for the next couple of hours – every time we ordered a round we got a torrent of abuse – I was beginning to think she had tourettes syndrome. She was quite nice in a filthy kind of way though – in the end I was rude back and she seemed to like that….. Anyway, she told us that the footy would come on at 3 exactly as they didn’t have sky and were picking it up from some dodgy Arabic station. We would have walked out there and then to find an alternative but for the fact that we suddenly became aware of two 18 year old girls sitting in front of the big screen talking to a couple of older fat blokes who had already identified themselves to us as Leeds fans. Then we noticed one of them (the better looking one – a real cutey) had a Leeds shirt on! And that was that, we moved in and joined the group, and they were our drinking partners all afternoon.
15:00 – The P.A system bursts into life and we become aware that a band are warming up. The gobby barmaid finally confesses that they can’t get the Arabic footy channel and we are forced to run in the pouring rain over to Ashes, which is absolutely packed with Leeds fans, unbelievable. A few Watford fans and neutrals there but the vast majority were on my side.
15:00-17:00 – Leeds fail to show up and the promotion dream is over.
17:00 There are hugs of commiseration at the end with the cutey which is nice. No funny business though, I was old enough to be her father.
I’d thrown my rule book out of the window. 8 pints and no food. I stumble out of Ashes, waving goodbye to the cuties and the fat blokes. Only football could unite such a bizarre cross section of people.
17:15: A taxi drops me off. I am hugged by my wife and children, and relive my pain for the next 45 minutes, apparently talking about the cute Leeds girls a bit too much...
18:00 – I am in bed asleep.
Oh well. There’s always next season...
Ed - BLCF 95% - Audible laughter followed by sagely nodding in a 'been there, done that' kind of way.
As promised, here is a précis of my Sunday which might make you smile
It was quite an afternoon.
13:00 – My friend John and I go into Earls in Maidstone where I ask the barmaid if they are showing the game. She turns out to be the gobbiest barmaid on planet earth…... In fact her exact words were “****ing hell these blokes want the ****ing football! I suppose you want a ****ing beer too! **** me some people! And they’re ****ing Leeds fans!”. We were very scared.
This ‘banter’ continued for the next couple of hours – every time we ordered a round we got a torrent of abuse – I was beginning to think she had tourettes syndrome. She was quite nice in a filthy kind of way though – in the end I was rude back and she seemed to like that….. Anyway, she told us that the footy would come on at 3 exactly as they didn’t have sky and were picking it up from some dodgy Arabic station. We would have walked out there and then to find an alternative but for the fact that we suddenly became aware of two 18 year old girls sitting in front of the big screen talking to a couple of older fat blokes who had already identified themselves to us as Leeds fans. Then we noticed one of them (the better looking one – a real cutey) had a Leeds shirt on! And that was that, we moved in and joined the group, and they were our drinking partners all afternoon.
15:00 – The P.A system bursts into life and we become aware that a band are warming up. The gobby barmaid finally confesses that they can’t get the Arabic footy channel and we are forced to run in the pouring rain over to Ashes, which is absolutely packed with Leeds fans, unbelievable. A few Watford fans and neutrals there but the vast majority were on my side.
15:00-17:00 – Leeds fail to show up and the promotion dream is over.
17:00 There are hugs of commiseration at the end with the cutey which is nice. No funny business though, I was old enough to be her father.
I’d thrown my rule book out of the window. 8 pints and no food. I stumble out of Ashes, waving goodbye to the cuties and the fat blokes. Only football could unite such a bizarre cross section of people.
17:15: A taxi drops me off. I am hugged by my wife and children, and relive my pain for the next 45 minutes, apparently talking about the cute Leeds girls a bit too much...
18:00 – I am in bed asleep.
Oh well. There’s always next season...
Ed - BLCF 95% - Audible laughter followed by sagely nodding in a 'been there, done that' kind of way.
Diary of an IT worker
Having a bad week
OK fair and square, I accept that life can't be one big bed of rose that you can just roll over and over in as you casually mutter your favourite love poems, but I take objection to this week so far.
Monday:
Incident 1:
Arrive at work earlish (7:35) only to realise that I've forgotten my pass and the reception doesn't open til 8:00. Then have to walk to the cash machine, get cash, then drive off to get petrol to come back to gain access at 8:05
Incident 2:
During the course of the day I realise that I've forgotten my glasses
Incident 3:
11:30 I decide to go to bed and as a result of the hot weather I'm lying on top of my bed in my undies. Just as I settle down one of my neighbours house alarms goes off. Now this week I'm looking after my neighbours house and they have an alarm. I contemplate ignoring it for a mo but decide that I better go out and check...anyway by the time I get to my front door the alarm is off and I have no idea whether it was my neighbours alarm or not. So have to enter the house and check that everything is OK (it was)
Tuesday:
Incident 1:
Wake up early (5:30) - Walk around next doors to feed their cats - it's raining so take my shoes off at the front door and carry them to the back door, where I put them back on before feeding the cats outside. Re-enter neighbours house, take shoes off and tidy up cat food area. Walk to front door, set the alarm, open front door, look down and realise that I've left my shoes by the back door mat. I have no idea how long I've got before the alarm goes off and decide that it's best to leave the shoes and walk bare-foot to my house.
Incident 2:
Spend all day trying to resolve an IIS / ASP.NET installation problem. At about 5:15 - Success! and joyous celebrations. So now it's time to resolve the IIS problem on the other server. Log on to reinstall IIS and get chucked off halfway through the build. Can't connect to server... then finally mange to connect to server and decide to uninstall IIS. During the re-install, Arghhhh, I discover that I'm actually on the server that was working and I've just uninstalled IIS. So it's now 6:00 and I have 2 servers to build before going home.
Incident 3:
7:25 and some manager phones me to tell me that he has an urgent piece of work and that he's going on holiday. I tell him I can't possibly perform the work item (which would actually only take about 2 minutes) and that he'll have to find another resource.
Incident 4:
Eventually leave at 7:45 and just as I near the joyous motorway exit - bam, a police car pulls out in front of me and blocks off the exit. So I'm then forced to drive on down the to the next exit adding more time to my journey.
This is all down to the loss of my lucky sock...
OK fair and square, I accept that life can't be one big bed of rose that you can just roll over and over in as you casually mutter your favourite love poems, but I take objection to this week so far.
Monday:
Incident 1:
Arrive at work earlish (7:35) only to realise that I've forgotten my pass and the reception doesn't open til 8:00. Then have to walk to the cash machine, get cash, then drive off to get petrol to come back to gain access at 8:05
Incident 2:
During the course of the day I realise that I've forgotten my glasses
Incident 3:
11:30 I decide to go to bed and as a result of the hot weather I'm lying on top of my bed in my undies. Just as I settle down one of my neighbours house alarms goes off. Now this week I'm looking after my neighbours house and they have an alarm. I contemplate ignoring it for a mo but decide that I better go out and check...anyway by the time I get to my front door the alarm is off and I have no idea whether it was my neighbours alarm or not. So have to enter the house and check that everything is OK (it was)
Tuesday:
Incident 1:
Wake up early (5:30) - Walk around next doors to feed their cats - it's raining so take my shoes off at the front door and carry them to the back door, where I put them back on before feeding the cats outside. Re-enter neighbours house, take shoes off and tidy up cat food area. Walk to front door, set the alarm, open front door, look down and realise that I've left my shoes by the back door mat. I have no idea how long I've got before the alarm goes off and decide that it's best to leave the shoes and walk bare-foot to my house.
Incident 2:
Spend all day trying to resolve an IIS / ASP.NET installation problem. At about 5:15 - Success! and joyous celebrations. So now it's time to resolve the IIS problem on the other server. Log on to reinstall IIS and get chucked off halfway through the build. Can't connect to server... then finally mange to connect to server and decide to uninstall IIS. During the re-install, Arghhhh, I discover that I'm actually on the server that was working and I've just uninstalled IIS. So it's now 6:00 and I have 2 servers to build before going home.
Incident 3:
7:25 and some manager phones me to tell me that he has an urgent piece of work and that he's going on holiday. I tell him I can't possibly perform the work item (which would actually only take about 2 minutes) and that he'll have to find another resource.
Incident 4:
Eventually leave at 7:45 and just as I near the joyous motorway exit - bam, a police car pulls out in front of me and blocks off the exit. So I'm then forced to drive on down the to the next exit adding more time to my journey.
This is all down to the loss of my lucky sock...
Those calls again
DC takes a different approach
Caller: "Hello, I'm calling from <blank> company and I'm conducting a survey into leisure services in your area"
DC: Can you prove that?
Caller: "Sorry"
DC: "Can you prove that you are who you say you are?"
Caller: "I can give you a number to call me back"
DC: "That won't really prove that your legitimate though will it"
Caller: "But this is a really important survey and your opinion matters"
DC: "What is it about then"
Caller: "It's to do with leisure facilities in your area"
DC: "Well that's not important to me, why should I tell you anything"
Caller: "Well your opinion counts"
DC: "But I know my opinion. What company did you say you worked for again?"
Caller: "<blank>"
DC: "I've never heard of them"
Caller: "We're quite well know in our field"
DC: "Well as I've never heard of your company, the survey isn't important and you can't prove who you are, I'm not willing to give you information. Good-bye"
Caller: [In a very small and pathetic voice] "Bye"
Caller: "Hello, I'm calling from <blank> company and I'm conducting a survey into leisure services in your area"
DC: Can you prove that?
Caller: "Sorry"
DC: "Can you prove that you are who you say you are?"
Caller: "I can give you a number to call me back"
DC: "That won't really prove that your legitimate though will it"
Caller: "But this is a really important survey and your opinion matters"
DC: "What is it about then"
Caller: "It's to do with leisure facilities in your area"
DC: "Well that's not important to me, why should I tell you anything"
Caller: "Well your opinion counts"
DC: "But I know my opinion. What company did you say you worked for again?"
Caller: "<blank>"
DC: "I've never heard of them"
Caller: "We're quite well know in our field"
DC: "Well as I've never heard of your company, the survey isn't important and you can't prove who you are, I'm not willing to give you information. Good-bye"
Caller: [In a very small and pathetic voice] "Bye"
Those calls
Don't ever hang up
How long can you occupy the time of a nuisance caller? Think of it as a public service.
Calls about holidays are common at the moment. One of the tactics that can be used is to agree to answering the survey, provided that you can opt out of any question that you think are personal.
They always agree, and you can proceed to decline to answer each one (after politely explaning why you don't want to give that information).
For instance, this was a recent (real life) conversation:
Caller : Is that Mr JDubya?
Me: Who is calling?
Caller: It's Zoe from <blank> and I'm conducting a survey into holidays. You could win a prize which would be really great wouldn't it
Me : Yes it would be fantastic, what do I have to do?
Caller: Just answer a few questions. It is Mr JDubya I am speaking to isn't it?
Me: Who did you say you are?
Caller : It's Zoe from <blank>, Is that Mr JDubya?
How do you spell <blank>?
Caller :<B L A N K >
Me : Let me read that back to you, <L B A K N >
Caller :No, B L A N K
Me : Ok, What's your telephone number?
Caller :You won't be able to call me back
Me : Ok, but I don't know who you are, so I'll answer your questions except where I think it's too personal
Caller :Ok, can you confirm that you are Mr JDubya?
Me : I can't tell you that, it's against the data protection act.
Caller : What?
Me : I can answer your survey questions, but not that one OK?
Caller : OK, First question - If you could have a free holiday anywhere in the world where would it be?
Me : Grimsby
Caller :Anywhere in the world, how about America, Barbados,...
Me : I'd quite like to go to Grimsby. I've heard the fishing is good.
Caller : Let's put down America for now.
Me : No, You have to put down Grimsby because if you put down anything else it misrepresents my views and violates the Data Protection Act
Caller : OK, but there's lots of places that are good in America, for instance Disneyworld. Do you have any children?
Me : That's too personal, what's the next question?
Are you married?
Me : Too personal
Caller : Do you own your own home
Me : Too personal
Caller : Have you ever considered timeshare properties or holiday ownership?
Me : Too personal
Caller : Congratulations, you won a holiday in Grimsby. Can I organise an appointment for you and your wife to collect your prize?
Me : I didn't tell you that I was married. I might be single.
Caller : If you are single you can pick up the prize yourself. I have an appointment on Saturday morning at 10:00 is that OK?
Me : Not convenient, do you have anything on a Wednesday morning at say 08:37?
Caller : How about Wednesday at 10:00. I've booked you in.
Me : I can't do Wednesday. Can you send me a list of all your appointment dates then I can choose
Caller : Slammed phone down
Me : How rude!
How long can you occupy the time of a nuisance caller? Think of it as a public service.
Calls about holidays are common at the moment. One of the tactics that can be used is to agree to answering the survey, provided that you can opt out of any question that you think are personal.
They always agree, and you can proceed to decline to answer each one (after politely explaning why you don't want to give that information).
For instance, this was a recent (real life) conversation:
Caller : Is that Mr JDubya?
Me: Who is calling?
Caller: It's Zoe from <blank> and I'm conducting a survey into holidays. You could win a prize which would be really great wouldn't it
Me : Yes it would be fantastic, what do I have to do?
Caller: Just answer a few questions. It is Mr JDubya I am speaking to isn't it?
Me: Who did you say you are?
Caller : It's Zoe from <blank>, Is that Mr JDubya?
How do you spell <blank>?
Caller :<B L A N K >
Me : Let me read that back to you, <L B A K N >
Caller :No, B L A N K
Me : Ok, What's your telephone number?
Caller :You won't be able to call me back
Me : Ok, but I don't know who you are, so I'll answer your questions except where I think it's too personal
Caller :Ok, can you confirm that you are Mr JDubya?
Me : I can't tell you that, it's against the data protection act.
Caller : What?
Me : I can answer your survey questions, but not that one OK?
Caller : OK, First question - If you could have a free holiday anywhere in the world where would it be?
Me : Grimsby
Caller :Anywhere in the world, how about America, Barbados,...
Me : I'd quite like to go to Grimsby. I've heard the fishing is good.
Caller : Let's put down America for now.
Me : No, You have to put down Grimsby because if you put down anything else it misrepresents my views and violates the Data Protection Act
Caller : OK, but there's lots of places that are good in America, for instance Disneyworld. Do you have any children?
Me : That's too personal, what's the next question?
Are you married?
Me : Too personal
Caller : Do you own your own home
Me : Too personal
Caller : Have you ever considered timeshare properties or holiday ownership?
Me : Too personal
Caller : Congratulations, you won a holiday in Grimsby. Can I organise an appointment for you and your wife to collect your prize?
Me : I didn't tell you that I was married. I might be single.
Caller : If you are single you can pick up the prize yourself. I have an appointment on Saturday morning at 10:00 is that OK?
Me : Not convenient, do you have anything on a Wednesday morning at say 08:37?
Caller : How about Wednesday at 10:00. I've booked you in.
Me : I can't do Wednesday. Can you send me a list of all your appointment dates then I can choose
Caller : Slammed phone down
Me : How rude!
Office Friendship… British Style.
How long has that been there?
There is a guy in my office that has an entire sheet of loo roll lodge in his hair and despite him being a well like office member, nobody has told him. Not even his closest team members!
Beyond the question of how it got there (Ed - We'll leave that one for you to comment on), you have to wonder why the British find it so difficult to mention the presence of such an item on one's personage. For us Brits seem to find it far too embarrassing to raise the matter, preferring instead to leave the said item there for all to see and to either be self-discovered or naturally dispersed.
We've all suffered from this fate and all stood in front of the mirror and wondered "How long has that been there?"
There is a guy in my office that has an entire sheet of loo roll lodge in his hair and despite him being a well like office member, nobody has told him. Not even his closest team members!
Beyond the question of how it got there (Ed - We'll leave that one for you to comment on), you have to wonder why the British find it so difficult to mention the presence of such an item on one's personage. For us Brits seem to find it far too embarrassing to raise the matter, preferring instead to leave the said item there for all to see and to either be self-discovered or naturally dispersed.
We've all suffered from this fate and all stood in front of the mirror and wondered "How long has that been there?"
Twenty Reason Game
The game for random reasons, but not random strangers
Twenty reasons is a game in which you need to identify twenty reasons for doing a chosen action. For example, the following is the outcome of a Wiggy Wigster round of "Twenty Reasons...to wear a tie" and has been taken from their now legendary Radio Kettering show "Wiggling at the Wigs", which unfortunately was taken off the air after 3 complaints.
1. It acts as a bib when eating or drinking. It's a little known fact that 1 in 13 coffee cups are deliberately manufactured to dribble.
2. Whilst chewing gum, if worn half cocked a tie will make you look rebellious, street wise and tough. Yet when worn smartly it makes your boss think you’re going for an interview.
3. In winter it acts as an entry level scarf.
4. It can be used to clean your glasses or sunglasses.
5. On hot days or following a particularly fiery curry it can be used to mop the sweat from your brow.
6. It can be used to restrict the flow of blood to an arm that may have suffered a gun shot wound or a snake bite.
7. It can be used as a belt if somebody steals your belt, whereas a belt cannot be used as a tie if somebody steals your tie.
8. When covered in mercury it acts as a compass when lost in the woods.
9. It is ideal for a Rambo fancy dress party. I believe there was one scene in Rambo I in which the man himself wore a suit and tie.
10. It can be looped in half and used as a makeshift sling catapult to defend the earth against an attack by aliens or megalomaniac ants.
11. It is an ideal place to keep an emergency ruler. That’s the plastic underlining and measuring kind and not the likes of Blair, Brown or Cameron.
12. It can be used as an ink blotter after writing a cheque with your favourite fountain pen.
13. If stiffened with starch it can be used to make a sun dial
14. If stuck on a deserted island you can use it to spell out SOS. TOP TIP – If you have a feeling that you could be stranded on a deserted island as part of your daily routine, then make sure you wear a florescent yellow tie for maximum visibility.
15. If you make a citizens arrest then it can be used as handcuffs whilst you escort the accused to the local police station.
16. It is the item to burn in the stand for masculine rights, unless you wear a bra that is.
17. It can be used for making a squirrel hammock, but only for red squirrels as it’s illegal to hammock those pesky grey ones.
18. It can be used as a wind sock to determine if it’s windy enough for your lunchtime hang gliding lesson.
19. It can be used during extremely boring meetings to practise your sea scout knots.
20. It is all you need to start an impromptu three leg race.
Twenty reasons is a game in which you need to identify twenty reasons for doing a chosen action. For example, the following is the outcome of a Wiggy Wigster round of "Twenty Reasons...to wear a tie" and has been taken from their now legendary Radio Kettering show "Wiggling at the Wigs", which unfortunately was taken off the air after 3 complaints.
1. It acts as a bib when eating or drinking. It's a little known fact that 1 in 13 coffee cups are deliberately manufactured to dribble.
2. Whilst chewing gum, if worn half cocked a tie will make you look rebellious, street wise and tough. Yet when worn smartly it makes your boss think you’re going for an interview.
3. In winter it acts as an entry level scarf.
4. It can be used to clean your glasses or sunglasses.
5. On hot days or following a particularly fiery curry it can be used to mop the sweat from your brow.
6. It can be used to restrict the flow of blood to an arm that may have suffered a gun shot wound or a snake bite.
7. It can be used as a belt if somebody steals your belt, whereas a belt cannot be used as a tie if somebody steals your tie.
8. When covered in mercury it acts as a compass when lost in the woods.
9. It is ideal for a Rambo fancy dress party. I believe there was one scene in Rambo I in which the man himself wore a suit and tie.
10. It can be looped in half and used as a makeshift sling catapult to defend the earth against an attack by aliens or megalomaniac ants.
11. It is an ideal place to keep an emergency ruler. That’s the plastic underlining and measuring kind and not the likes of Blair, Brown or Cameron.
12. It can be used as an ink blotter after writing a cheque with your favourite fountain pen.
13. If stiffened with starch it can be used to make a sun dial
14. If stuck on a deserted island you can use it to spell out SOS. TOP TIP – If you have a feeling that you could be stranded on a deserted island as part of your daily routine, then make sure you wear a florescent yellow tie for maximum visibility.
15. If you make a citizens arrest then it can be used as handcuffs whilst you escort the accused to the local police station.
16. It is the item to burn in the stand for masculine rights, unless you wear a bra that is.
17. It can be used for making a squirrel hammock, but only for red squirrels as it’s illegal to hammock those pesky grey ones.
18. It can be used as a wind sock to determine if it’s windy enough for your lunchtime hang gliding lesson.
19. It can be used during extremely boring meetings to practise your sea scout knots.
20. It is all you need to start an impromptu three leg race.
Examination
Exams are over for the summer
If you took Wigology this semester you may have already seen these exam questions
Question 1
I regularly attend a telephone conference twice a week with, amongst others, a man who we shall refer to within the context of this email as Mr Walrus. Every meeting Mr Walrus can be heard with a continuous heavy breath... Am I right in thinking I can have him for harassment? It has got to the point where I feel scared to attend the calls just in case he starts again. What actions would you recommend I take?
Question 2
Whilst using some public amenities, I could have sworn that I was in the supermarket toilets. Imagine my surprise when I emerge out of the toilets at the post office. Is it possible that I could have been smellyported into another set of toilets?
Question 3
If a phone call costs no more than 5p per minute and I talk for 32 seconds. How much does it cost per minute if there is a minimum call charge of 5.5p?
Question 4
What is JDubya currently classified as due to his limp inspired walk? (A) Disabled (B) Differently-abled (C) Unabled (D) Temporarily non-abled (E) A man with a limp (F) Faking it
Question 5
If you have a scratch on your monitor and you can rub it off, is it really a scratch?
Question 6
The ancient Greeks invented a sporting competition at Mount Olympus. One of the games involved throwing a flattened sphere as far as possible. Discuss.
Model answers
Answer 1
Whistle down the phone in an irritating manner from time to time. Complain loudly about it and say that it is due to someone not being 'on silent'. When everyone preeses their secrecy buttons, stop whistling (the heavy breathing will stop too).
Answer 2
Yes. This usually happens an even number of times so that you emerge where you started, but if you cut short your pleasures anything can happen.
Answer 3
No more than 5p and no less than 5.5p
Answer 4
Mr JDubya will be moving more gracefully in the near future. See http://www.w3.org/TR/WAI-WEBCONTENT/wai-pageauth.html#gl-table-markup section 2.1
Answer 5
No, it was an itch.
Answer 6
Oh I see what you did there. What a clever examiner you are.
If you took Wigology this semester you may have already seen these exam questions
Question 1
I regularly attend a telephone conference twice a week with, amongst others, a man who we shall refer to within the context of this email as Mr Walrus. Every meeting Mr Walrus can be heard with a continuous heavy breath... Am I right in thinking I can have him for harassment? It has got to the point where I feel scared to attend the calls just in case he starts again. What actions would you recommend I take?
Question 2
Whilst using some public amenities, I could have sworn that I was in the supermarket toilets. Imagine my surprise when I emerge out of the toilets at the post office. Is it possible that I could have been smellyported into another set of toilets?
Question 3
If a phone call costs no more than 5p per minute and I talk for 32 seconds. How much does it cost per minute if there is a minimum call charge of 5.5p?
Question 4
What is JDubya currently classified as due to his limp inspired walk? (A) Disabled (B) Differently-abled (C) Unabled (D) Temporarily non-abled (E) A man with a limp (F) Faking it
Question 5
If you have a scratch on your monitor and you can rub it off, is it really a scratch?
Question 6
The ancient Greeks invented a sporting competition at Mount Olympus. One of the games involved throwing a flattened sphere as far as possible. Discuss.
Model answers
Answer 1
Whistle down the phone in an irritating manner from time to time. Complain loudly about it and say that it is due to someone not being 'on silent'. When everyone preeses their secrecy buttons, stop whistling (the heavy breathing will stop too).
Answer 2
Yes. This usually happens an even number of times so that you emerge where you started, but if you cut short your pleasures anything can happen.
Answer 3
No more than 5p and no less than 5.5p
Answer 4
Mr JDubya will be moving more gracefully in the near future. See http://www.w3.org/TR/WAI-WEBCONTENT/wai-pageauth.html#gl-table-markup section 2.1
Answer 5
No, it was an itch.
Answer 6
Oh I see what you did there. What a clever examiner you are.
Thought of the day
Mmmmm... what do you think?
If a bald man wears as wig in a forest and no one else is around to see it, does it make an impression?"
If a bald man wears as wig in a forest and no one else is around to see it, does it make an impression?"
Tuesday 5 July 2011
Huddles and Stand-Ups
What is a huddle?
We get asked this all the time at worldwidewig.co.uk. It's a gathering of people for a management meeting where people are not allowed to sit down.
History teaches us that the first huddle was because the manager did not have a chair so he made everyone stand.
Modern economics advises that chairs were only supplied because they were demanded.
Software gurus say you will be more agile if you can move around while you talk.
So that's the theory.
Wiggy wigster game - "Stranger at the huddle" The following rules apply...
1 point for walking past the huddle.
1 point for waving at the presenter.
2 points for standing by the huddle for a short time.
5 points for attending the whole duration of the huddle.
10 points for asking a question.
5 points for having a question answered.
-5 points for being identified as a stranger.
We get asked this all the time at worldwidewig.co.uk. It's a gathering of people for a management meeting where people are not allowed to sit down.
History teaches us that the first huddle was because the manager did not have a chair so he made everyone stand.
Modern economics advises that chairs were only supplied because they were demanded.
Software gurus say you will be more agile if you can move around while you talk.
So that's the theory.
Wiggy wigster game - "Stranger at the huddle" The following rules apply...
1 point for walking past the huddle.
1 point for waving at the presenter.
2 points for standing by the huddle for a short time.
5 points for attending the whole duration of the huddle.
10 points for asking a question.
5 points for having a question answered.
-5 points for being identified as a stranger.
20 points for wearing the wig if you keep it on for 20 seconds.
Toilet Interruptions
Look away now and apologise
From time to time on this blog we advise readers of a nervous disposition to look away now. Take our advice this time.
DC reports:
In toilets, whilst making use of the urinal facilities I was disturbed by a female cleaner.... she walked around for a few seconds then looked at my face, then lower down and said sorry and walked out.
On reading DC's report, wiggy wigsters were outraged.
Lambpie: So to summarise - you were standing semi-naked, a female looked at your face and then your erm... and based on what she saw decided to walk out.
1Z: And apologised!
Wigja: Strange, yesterday I heard a noise like a demented woodpecker, which I assumed was caused by a plumbing problem. Then I heard a female voice "Hello... Sorry"
Could it be the same cleaner?
From time to time on this blog we advise readers of a nervous disposition to look away now. Take our advice this time.
DC reports:
In toilets, whilst making use of the urinal facilities I was disturbed by a female cleaner.... she walked around for a few seconds then looked at my face, then lower down and said sorry and walked out.
On reading DC's report, wiggy wigsters were outraged.
Lambpie: So to summarise - you were standing semi-naked, a female looked at your face and then your erm... and based on what she saw decided to walk out.
1Z: And apologised!
Wigja: Strange, yesterday I heard a noise like a demented woodpecker, which I assumed was caused by a plumbing problem. Then I heard a female voice "Hello... Sorry"
Could it be the same cleaner?
Out of Office
Confuse the OoO squad with this handy template
cut >------------------------------
Tomorrow I will have an out of office reply on, but I will be in the office.
Please refer to yesterdays out of office message for my contact details.
cut >------------------------------
cut >------------------------------
Tomorrow I will have an out of office reply on, but I will be in the office.
Please refer to yesterdays out of office message for my contact details.
cut >------------------------------
Tomorrow, The buffet and the last standard working day before Christmas and all those mince pies
Shop early for Christmas
Right, I'm now starting to panic as I haven't got any Christmas presents. Do any of you know where I can get any of the following items?
• A working P232
• Pocket Pipe Rest
• Dr Plumb 3 in 1 pipe tool
• A pink granite rustic rankei or shizendou
• A nursery rhyme involving a purple kettle
• A bamboo banjo or a bamboo bongo
In order to return the favour I have attached a useful 'how to' guide which may satisfy your manly instincts
http://www.lindsaybks.com/dgjp/djgbk/pipe/
DC
Answers supplied by Lambpie:
• No, I suggest geting an R2D2 instead. She'll never notice.
• Use lindsaybks advice and make your own
• JC Tools, The Broadway - but if they speak to you before you find the tool, you must leave.
• This 'must have' item has already sold out this year
• The internet nursery rhyme and kettle shop next to JC Tools
• www.TheCultureClub.co.uk or Argos
Right, I'm now starting to panic as I haven't got any Christmas presents. Do any of you know where I can get any of the following items?
• A working P232
• Pocket Pipe Rest
• Dr Plumb 3 in 1 pipe tool
• A pink granite rustic rankei or shizendou
• A nursery rhyme involving a purple kettle
• A bamboo banjo or a bamboo bongo
In order to return the favour I have attached a useful 'how to' guide which may satisfy your manly instincts
http://www.lindsaybks.com/dgjp/djgbk/pipe/
DC
Answers supplied by Lambpie:
• No, I suggest geting an R2D2 instead. She'll never notice.
• Use lindsaybks advice and make your own
• JC Tools, The Broadway - but if they speak to you before you find the tool, you must leave.
• This 'must have' item has already sold out this year
• The internet nursery rhyme and kettle shop next to JC Tools
• www.TheCultureClub.co.uk or Argos
Corporate Culture
Corporate culture evolves into citizenship
Did you know that a well known detergent company has claimed that the evironmental damage caused by their products are in fact just caused by the hot water people use, not the detergent itself?
By mounting an advertising campaign to reduce the temperature of washing they have acted as good corporate citizens (and perhaps increased their sales too).
Other examples of corporate citizenship *
A confectionery company claims that sugar is not bad for teeth... it's not cleaning your teeth afterwards that is the problem.
A waste disposal plant was not responsible for contaminating the countryside. it was the adverse weather conditions that made the toxic smoke decend on the cows.
A telecommunications company have no policy about their broadband speed but say "we promise that you will get what we give you"
Good corporate citizenship also includes encouraging staff to do charity work and brag about it.
Here's a typical company email.
------------------------------------------------------
Subject: 6th June - Copper Amnesty + Cakes
All
As a fundraising event, we are going to hold a copper amnesty where people bring in all their loose coppers.
Cakes will be available for those who give us their coppers.
Please feel free to take a cake.
Thanks for all your support!
Wendy
------------------------------------------------------
Wigsters can't resist being generous and offering help whenever it is requested. Here are some of their responses:
Hi Wendy,
I took a small piece of copper from a building site in 1983 and I have felt guilty ever since.
Thank you for organising this.
Wendy,
As a special constable, I resent the implication that we are all roaming loose and need to be given cake. It is a cruel stereotype that we all eat sugary confections such as donuts.
Dear Wendy
You say the cake is free but you are clearly asking for money. This is dishonest and unworthy of good corporate citizenship. Shame on you.
* Ed - Is this all true? I wonder who these companies are.
Did you know that a well known detergent company has claimed that the evironmental damage caused by their products are in fact just caused by the hot water people use, not the detergent itself?
By mounting an advertising campaign to reduce the temperature of washing they have acted as good corporate citizens (and perhaps increased their sales too).
Other examples of corporate citizenship *
A confectionery company claims that sugar is not bad for teeth... it's not cleaning your teeth afterwards that is the problem.
A waste disposal plant was not responsible for contaminating the countryside. it was the adverse weather conditions that made the toxic smoke decend on the cows.
A telecommunications company have no policy about their broadband speed but say "we promise that you will get what we give you"
Good corporate citizenship also includes encouraging staff to do charity work and brag about it.
Here's a typical company email.
------------------------------------------------------
Subject: 6th June - Copper Amnesty + Cakes
All
As a fundraising event, we are going to hold a copper amnesty where people bring in all their loose coppers.
Cakes will be available for those who give us their coppers.
Please feel free to take a cake.
Thanks for all your support!
Wendy
------------------------------------------------------
Wigsters can't resist being generous and offering help whenever it is requested. Here are some of their responses:
Hi Wendy,
I took a small piece of copper from a building site in 1983 and I have felt guilty ever since.
Thank you for organising this.
Wendy,
As a special constable, I resent the implication that we are all roaming loose and need to be given cake. It is a cruel stereotype that we all eat sugary confections such as donuts.
Dear Wendy
You say the cake is free but you are clearly asking for money. This is dishonest and unworthy of good corporate citizenship. Shame on you.
* Ed - Is this all true? I wonder who these companies are.
Unexpected emphasis
Sometimes it's about the way you say it
Yesterday I was on a train. I had a small backpack just big enough to hold a laptop. I found a seat and sat down, placing the bag between my legs then pulling it back to give an imaginary person sitting opposite me plenty of leg room.
A not so imaginary person got on at the next stop and took a seat opposite me. Mid twenties, physically fit, cropped hair. Aggressive.
As he sat down he started grumbling and ranting about bags and leg room and at first I was unaware that the tirade was directed towards me. Not sure I had heard correctly i politely inquired "Sorry?" as if to request him to repeat.
But it didn't come out like that apparently. It must have sounded like a "SORRY?" in a 'who do you think you are talking to you little piece of scum' sort of way.
The aggressive young man started to mumble, then avoided eye contact for the whole journey by closing his eyes.
We like happy endings.
Yesterday I was on a train. I had a small backpack just big enough to hold a laptop. I found a seat and sat down, placing the bag between my legs then pulling it back to give an imaginary person sitting opposite me plenty of leg room.
A not so imaginary person got on at the next stop and took a seat opposite me. Mid twenties, physically fit, cropped hair. Aggressive.
As he sat down he started grumbling and ranting about bags and leg room and at first I was unaware that the tirade was directed towards me. Not sure I had heard correctly i politely inquired "Sorry?" as if to request him to repeat.
But it didn't come out like that apparently. It must have sounded like a "SORRY?" in a 'who do you think you are talking to you little piece of scum' sort of way.
The aggressive young man started to mumble, then avoided eye contact for the whole journey by closing his eyes.
We like happy endings.
Monday 4 July 2011
Restaurants...A feast of material for the blogger!
Come dine with me...but only if you've booked!
Being a bunch of sophisticated social masticators, the wiggy wigsters have grown accustomed to the ways of the restaurant trade. For those aiming for our high level of superiority (Ed: True - you really should be calling us mother superior) there’s a cauldron of information bubbling away in our proverbial kitchen waiting to be slopped out and dished up. It’s only a small kitchen, but does boast two Phil Mitchell stars!
So, as part of our social kindness responsibilities pledge, we give you a guide to restaurant ways. No doubt we’ll get honoured by the Queen for this service, probably an MBE or an OBE, but the real reward is in knowing that you know, what we know, what they know, but that they don’t know what we know.
All restaurants have an unofficial “suitable diner” code, used to determine if you are good enough to dine in their company.
If you’re unlucky enough to find yourself failing the restaurants “suitable diner” test, then on arrival you’ll not be greeted. You may even find the restaurant locked, with the staff and other diners ordered to hide behind chairs. We once heard of a case in which an entire tube line was shut just to avoid a certain “undesirable” from entering one of London’s premier restaurants. If you find yourself in this situation, then I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do for you.
However, if you’re reasonably dressed and sober then this should be sufficient to get you in to most restaurants. If accepted then the front of house will be the first person to greet you. We say greet in the loosest sense of the word, for they are in reality like Cerberus, guarding the restaurant and ready to offer the first stage of social embarrassment. Before you can even say “Good evening” they immediately hit you with the party size question… “Table for four?”.
Now, this may seem like a simple question to answer, but the pressure they exert with that three word sentence can send even the most experienced mathematician in to a kindergarten counter, fumbling around with their fingers as they try to count the party size. Failure to confirm is quickly frowned upon and you’ll soon find yourself unable to obtain the table you desire.
So, if you’re still surviving and lucky enough, you’ll be allowed to see the tables. Chances are you’ll relax as soon as you see the majority of them are empty. DON’T – this is their next trap, for sooner than you can say “fry me a fritter for some Friday fun”, the front of house will hit you with “Have you booked?”
Failure to say yes, will result in an over complicated sigh and the next phase of the game begins.
In front of you lie 90% of unallocated tables, a beautiful table catches your attention, maybe the restaurant change the lighting subtly to make it appear more favourable than the rest. The number of chairs matches the number of bottoms, a true dining experience seems to be on the cards…but you are still waiting as the front of house is still frantically typing and referencing table plans, restaurant blue prints, fire exit procedures, typing more, tutting and muttering about the inconvenience of not booking.
The truth is that you could have any one of these unallocated tables, all of them are free, but to simply waltz with you to the table would be like saying “there’s no need to book”… this whole game is to make you book next time! It makes then look busy.
So after several more minutes of wasted with long hand division practise, a game of Cludo and ceremonial trumpet blowing, the front of house beckons you to walk this way. For a moment you think of the comical gag, but remember the “suitable diner” code and comply as you follow the front of house, who by now appears to be leading you to your dream table. Just as you get within touching distance you’ll be force to make a sudden turn, and be shown a table squashed in between the wall and several pillars, probably with a low ceiling and with a number of noisy kids running around who appear to be constantly shouting “I don’t like peas”. Again, this is your punishment for not booking, and as you sit down you notice you are in fact sitting in the cloak room, but still have enough sight of that glorious table as it glistens and teases you with it's emptiness in the distance.
“You could have been mine if you’d only booked” you hear it say as you settle down in your seat.
The table stays empty for the entire evening and you eventually lose sight of it after another table load of coats cover your view just before dessert is served.
The only exception to this rule is if you're blessed with amazing looks, in which case you'll be placed in the window like some sort of freak restaurant manikin consortium, advertising how only beautiful people eat in the restaurant.
Of course there are more games that restaurants play:
Fast music is played to make you eat quicker, but then slows down in between your meals to make your wait seem shorter.
The special board sounds exciting but is really leftovers.
Only the initiated know what the soup of the day is and they are sworn to secrecy by an ancient code.
So how do you survive all of this, well you use the wiggy wigster tips (WWT):
WWT1: It’s recommended you perform a headcount of your party before entering the restaurant. If you’re feeling confident, then make one of your guests wait outside the restaurant and when hit with the party size question, you can immediately correct there assumption and score a power point to the diner. If you're feeling super confident, then go in one by one - the initial one grabs the table and the subsequent guess can ignore the front of house.
WWT2: After you’ve counted your party size as part of WWT1, take out your mobile phone and call the restaurant from outside. Book a table and say you’ll be there soon. Ask for the best table, it should take about 2 seconds for them to allocate you a table and say you’ll be there as soon as you can. Hang up, count to 10, 12 or 23 and then walk through the door and in to the restaurant, shouting out before the door is even fully open. “Hello, I’ve booked a table for 4 at 8pm”. If you’re lucky then you may get a table just outside the cloak room.
So help your fellow diners and share your tip with the community.
Being a bunch of sophisticated social masticators, the wiggy wigsters have grown accustomed to the ways of the restaurant trade. For those aiming for our high level of superiority (Ed: True - you really should be calling us mother superior) there’s a cauldron of information bubbling away in our proverbial kitchen waiting to be slopped out and dished up. It’s only a small kitchen, but does boast two Phil Mitchell stars!
So, as part of our social kindness responsibilities pledge, we give you a guide to restaurant ways. No doubt we’ll get honoured by the Queen for this service, probably an MBE or an OBE, but the real reward is in knowing that you know, what we know, what they know, but that they don’t know what we know.
All restaurants have an unofficial “suitable diner” code, used to determine if you are good enough to dine in their company.
If you’re unlucky enough to find yourself failing the restaurants “suitable diner” test, then on arrival you’ll not be greeted. You may even find the restaurant locked, with the staff and other diners ordered to hide behind chairs. We once heard of a case in which an entire tube line was shut just to avoid a certain “undesirable” from entering one of London’s premier restaurants. If you find yourself in this situation, then I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do for you.
However, if you’re reasonably dressed and sober then this should be sufficient to get you in to most restaurants. If accepted then the front of house will be the first person to greet you. We say greet in the loosest sense of the word, for they are in reality like Cerberus, guarding the restaurant and ready to offer the first stage of social embarrassment. Before you can even say “Good evening” they immediately hit you with the party size question… “Table for four?”.
Now, this may seem like a simple question to answer, but the pressure they exert with that three word sentence can send even the most experienced mathematician in to a kindergarten counter, fumbling around with their fingers as they try to count the party size. Failure to confirm is quickly frowned upon and you’ll soon find yourself unable to obtain the table you desire.
So, if you’re still surviving and lucky enough, you’ll be allowed to see the tables. Chances are you’ll relax as soon as you see the majority of them are empty. DON’T – this is their next trap, for sooner than you can say “fry me a fritter for some Friday fun”, the front of house will hit you with “Have you booked?”
Failure to say yes, will result in an over complicated sigh and the next phase of the game begins.
In front of you lie 90% of unallocated tables, a beautiful table catches your attention, maybe the restaurant change the lighting subtly to make it appear more favourable than the rest. The number of chairs matches the number of bottoms, a true dining experience seems to be on the cards…but you are still waiting as the front of house is still frantically typing and referencing table plans, restaurant blue prints, fire exit procedures, typing more, tutting and muttering about the inconvenience of not booking.
The truth is that you could have any one of these unallocated tables, all of them are free, but to simply waltz with you to the table would be like saying “there’s no need to book”… this whole game is to make you book next time! It makes then look busy.
So after several more minutes of wasted with long hand division practise, a game of Cludo and ceremonial trumpet blowing, the front of house beckons you to walk this way. For a moment you think of the comical gag, but remember the “suitable diner” code and comply as you follow the front of house, who by now appears to be leading you to your dream table. Just as you get within touching distance you’ll be force to make a sudden turn, and be shown a table squashed in between the wall and several pillars, probably with a low ceiling and with a number of noisy kids running around who appear to be constantly shouting “I don’t like peas”. Again, this is your punishment for not booking, and as you sit down you notice you are in fact sitting in the cloak room, but still have enough sight of that glorious table as it glistens and teases you with it's emptiness in the distance.
“You could have been mine if you’d only booked” you hear it say as you settle down in your seat.
The table stays empty for the entire evening and you eventually lose sight of it after another table load of coats cover your view just before dessert is served.
The only exception to this rule is if you're blessed with amazing looks, in which case you'll be placed in the window like some sort of freak restaurant manikin consortium, advertising how only beautiful people eat in the restaurant.
Of course there are more games that restaurants play:
Fast music is played to make you eat quicker, but then slows down in between your meals to make your wait seem shorter.
The special board sounds exciting but is really leftovers.
Only the initiated know what the soup of the day is and they are sworn to secrecy by an ancient code.
So how do you survive all of this, well you use the wiggy wigster tips (WWT):
WWT1: It’s recommended you perform a headcount of your party before entering the restaurant. If you’re feeling confident, then make one of your guests wait outside the restaurant and when hit with the party size question, you can immediately correct there assumption and score a power point to the diner. If you're feeling super confident, then go in one by one - the initial one grabs the table and the subsequent guess can ignore the front of house.
WWT2: After you’ve counted your party size as part of WWT1, take out your mobile phone and call the restaurant from outside. Book a table and say you’ll be there soon. Ask for the best table, it should take about 2 seconds for them to allocate you a table and say you’ll be there as soon as you can. Hang up, count to 10, 12 or 23 and then walk through the door and in to the restaurant, shouting out before the door is even fully open. “Hello, I’ve booked a table for 4 at 8pm”. If you’re lucky then you may get a table just outside the cloak room.
So help your fellow diners and share your tip with the community.
The Push Tap Challenge
It takes two to tap dance
If you frequent public toilets for a legal reason, then you may stumble across the push tap. The push tap was invented by Uriah Nell as a challenge for the channel 4 Crystal Maze game show in 1986, but found itself pushed on to the public in 1987 after a water efficiency drive kicked in. To those left baffled or bamboozled, here is a picture of a push tap
The idea of this tap is simple…At the taps crown is a push button - You push this down and the water flows. You release it and the water stops immediately.
This watery efficiency is all well and good, but to anyone who has had the misfortune of trying to wash their hands with this contraption it has proved a total impossibility. In fact the push tap was eventually dropped from the Crystal Maze show as it proved impossible to complete in over four series.
So here is an explanation of how to wash your hands using a push tap.
Approach 1 - Plug
If you are lucky enough to be using a sink with a plug, then put the plug in, press the hot tap, then press the cold tap and wash your hands in the mini reservoir held within the sink. Chances are that the plug will only be about 24% efficient and this water will be slowly seep away, normally as soon as you’ve lathered up, but repeat until 99.9% of the germs have been killed.
Approach 2 - No Plug
If you’re unlucky to get the original Crystal Maze challenge set up (sink, no plug) then you’ll be keen to know how you can wash your hands. Well several of us Wiggies, went to our local public convenience and spent the afternoon struggling to over come this simple task.
This is how we finally overcame the problem, but unfortunately it requires two people. So the first challenge is to find a stranger willing to help you wash your hands.
1) Person 1 (hereafter referred to as the Washee) stands directly in front of the sink tap combo.
2) Person 2 (hereafter referred to as the Supportee) stands directly behind the washee who is standing directly in front of the sink tap combo.
3) Supportee cups the buttocks of the washee.
4) The washee, who should have his weight supported by the Supportee, raises his left leg to the top of the left tap, and his right leg to the top of the right tap.
5) The washee should then be able to push the taps with his feet whilst washing his hands. Note: If the washee activates the taps too fast then the chances are that the water will spill over and soak his trousers.
6) Once washed, the washee and supportee change places and repeat the process
We had hoped to give you a guide to hand driers, but it was at this point that we were asked to leave the toilet and threatened with criminal convictions if we ever came back.
If you frequent public toilets for a legal reason, then you may stumble across the push tap. The push tap was invented by Uriah Nell as a challenge for the channel 4 Crystal Maze game show in 1986, but found itself pushed on to the public in 1987 after a water efficiency drive kicked in. To those left baffled or bamboozled, here is a picture of a push tap
The idea of this tap is simple…At the taps crown is a push button - You push this down and the water flows. You release it and the water stops immediately.
This watery efficiency is all well and good, but to anyone who has had the misfortune of trying to wash their hands with this contraption it has proved a total impossibility. In fact the push tap was eventually dropped from the Crystal Maze show as it proved impossible to complete in over four series.
So here is an explanation of how to wash your hands using a push tap.
Approach 1 - Plug
If you are lucky enough to be using a sink with a plug, then put the plug in, press the hot tap, then press the cold tap and wash your hands in the mini reservoir held within the sink. Chances are that the plug will only be about 24% efficient and this water will be slowly seep away, normally as soon as you’ve lathered up, but repeat until 99.9% of the germs have been killed.
Approach 2 - No Plug
If you’re unlucky to get the original Crystal Maze challenge set up (sink, no plug) then you’ll be keen to know how you can wash your hands. Well several of us Wiggies, went to our local public convenience and spent the afternoon struggling to over come this simple task.
This is how we finally overcame the problem, but unfortunately it requires two people. So the first challenge is to find a stranger willing to help you wash your hands.
1) Person 1 (hereafter referred to as the Washee) stands directly in front of the sink tap combo.
2) Person 2 (hereafter referred to as the Supportee) stands directly behind the washee who is standing directly in front of the sink tap combo.
3) Supportee cups the buttocks of the washee.
4) The washee, who should have his weight supported by the Supportee, raises his left leg to the top of the left tap, and his right leg to the top of the right tap.
5) The washee should then be able to push the taps with his feet whilst washing his hands. Note: If the washee activates the taps too fast then the chances are that the water will spill over and soak his trousers.
6) Once washed, the washee and supportee change places and repeat the process
We had hoped to give you a guide to hand driers, but it was at this point that we were asked to leave the toilet and threatened with criminal convictions if we ever came back.
Friday 1 July 2011
Justin Bieber on a hen party
Ba…Ba…Ba…BINGOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
As sure a bunch of nuns will have revolting habits, you can guarantee that the hold up in your lunchtime queue will be an old lady who insists on paying with the exact change. We’re not being ageist, just stating an observed fact.
“No lovey” she’ll explain “I’ve got one in here somewhere” as she rummages around her suitcase of a handbag looking for a stray penny that may have been dislodge from it chamber. Time rolls by and a further five minutes of your lunchtime gets eaten up before she finally decides she hasn’t got a penny and asks if she can pay by cheque. “Now, what did I do with my pen…I’ve got one in here somewhere” … and it all starts again.
In fact, old ladies are the real reason for the demise of the utilisation of cheque payment pleasure. I love nothing more than stroking out my words in an elegant fountain pen manner, my feathered quill dancing on the paper like Justin Bieber on a hen party, but alas my pleasure has been stunted.
However, if you follow that old lady home, loiter outside her house until the evening and then follow her all the way to the local bingo hall, then my friend, then you will see a totally differ lady.
A lady with a love of speed! Then her bingo pen will be dancing like Justin Bieber on a hen party, whilst you will be rummaging around in your handbag looking for that penny. The transformation is amazing…
So the next time you need lunch…go to your bingo hall.
As sure a bunch of nuns will have revolting habits, you can guarantee that the hold up in your lunchtime queue will be an old lady who insists on paying with the exact change. We’re not being ageist, just stating an observed fact.
“No lovey” she’ll explain “I’ve got one in here somewhere” as she rummages around her suitcase of a handbag looking for a stray penny that may have been dislodge from it chamber. Time rolls by and a further five minutes of your lunchtime gets eaten up before she finally decides she hasn’t got a penny and asks if she can pay by cheque. “Now, what did I do with my pen…I’ve got one in here somewhere” … and it all starts again.
In fact, old ladies are the real reason for the demise of the utilisation of cheque payment pleasure. I love nothing more than stroking out my words in an elegant fountain pen manner, my feathered quill dancing on the paper like Justin Bieber on a hen party, but alas my pleasure has been stunted.
However, if you follow that old lady home, loiter outside her house until the evening and then follow her all the way to the local bingo hall, then my friend, then you will see a totally differ lady.
A lady with a love of speed! Then her bingo pen will be dancing like Justin Bieber on a hen party, whilst you will be rummaging around in your handbag looking for that penny. The transformation is amazing…
So the next time you need lunch…go to your bingo hall.
Pi or Tau?
To pi or not 2 pi, that is the question
There’s been a lot of debate recently regarding the use of pi and whether it should be replaced forthwith by Tau. So, for those unaware… Pi = 3.14 whereas Tau = 6.28.
You may be reading this and thinking why do I give a showman’s holiday in Turkey about pi vs tau and you could be right, but that hasn’t stop thousands of you asking where the wiggy wigsters stand on this subject.
Well this is wiggy wigsters initial response, as published in May 1982.
“pi vs tau is a lot like pints verse gallons…we have no interest in commenting on related measures. Why not ask us something more useful like whether we prefer a British or American sized pint? BTW has to be British as it’s bigger!”
So because you keep begging us, we’ve reviewed our 1982 directive and sought out some research.
In a recent survey of 135.8 adults in Doncaster, Newcastle and Northampton, 94% said they preferred pi over tau. However, the same survey noted that 78% of those surveyed thought tau was a type of Chinese dumpling!
The pro tau camp, which from evidence obtained under the 1852 act of general nosiness, seems to be located in Cornwall. This band of merry men appears to also be pro radians and full circles. As a consequence they are also anti pi, degrees and semi-circles.
So where does this leave the wiggy wigsters? Well pi vs tau is just labelling the pigeon as far as we’re concerned. We are however, like the tau camp, willing to declare our hatred for the semi-circle, which has for far too long been favoured over the semi-square*, which should not be confused with its cousin the rectangle. Semi-square is far more elusive and often likes to ramble about the countryside on Sunday afternoons wearing a straw boater and corduroy trousers. On the pints issue, well we still prefer our British pint over the Queen Anne Pint that the American’s utilise. Much more fluid from your buck!
* You can purchase a “I’m pro semi-square” T-Shirt from all semi decent bookshops and even a few shoddy ones too.
There’s been a lot of debate recently regarding the use of pi and whether it should be replaced forthwith by Tau. So, for those unaware… Pi = 3.14 whereas Tau = 6.28.
You may be reading this and thinking why do I give a showman’s holiday in Turkey about pi vs tau and you could be right, but that hasn’t stop thousands of you asking where the wiggy wigsters stand on this subject.
Well this is wiggy wigsters initial response, as published in May 1982.
“pi vs tau is a lot like pints verse gallons…we have no interest in commenting on related measures. Why not ask us something more useful like whether we prefer a British or American sized pint? BTW has to be British as it’s bigger!”
So because you keep begging us, we’ve reviewed our 1982 directive and sought out some research.
In a recent survey of 135.8 adults in Doncaster, Newcastle and Northampton, 94% said they preferred pi over tau. However, the same survey noted that 78% of those surveyed thought tau was a type of Chinese dumpling!
The pro tau camp, which from evidence obtained under the 1852 act of general nosiness, seems to be located in Cornwall. This band of merry men appears to also be pro radians and full circles. As a consequence they are also anti pi, degrees and semi-circles.
So where does this leave the wiggy wigsters? Well pi vs tau is just labelling the pigeon as far as we’re concerned. We are however, like the tau camp, willing to declare our hatred for the semi-circle, which has for far too long been favoured over the semi-square*, which should not be confused with its cousin the rectangle. Semi-square is far more elusive and often likes to ramble about the countryside on Sunday afternoons wearing a straw boater and corduroy trousers. On the pints issue, well we still prefer our British pint over the Queen Anne Pint that the American’s utilise. Much more fluid from your buck!
* You can purchase a “I’m pro semi-square” T-Shirt from all semi decent bookshops and even a few shoddy ones too.
The Thought of Today
Today's thought
If a bald man wears a hat all day, should it be considered a wig?
If a bald man wears a hat all day, should it be considered a wig?
Facebook Status
Are you bored with your normal Facebook status?
Do you long for an interesting status, but lack the mental capacity to invent your own?
Do your friends often ignore your Facebook updates?
Do you feel unloved and in need of attention?
Are you tired of having to buy a new car, buy a puppy or drop a kid before they’ll comment?
Then why not follow our prescription for Facebook status’… post one a day in the following order:
“…is punctuating the unstoppable sentence”
“…is bouncing a bag of oranges inside a balloon”
“…is a preventing enthusiastic vineyard overrunning the highways”
“…is sanding down the square peg until it’s too small for the hole”
“…is purchasing a new tent to live under the stairs in”
“…is positioned to fluctuate with the feather”
“…is perplexed by the accountability of penguins”
“…is frantically Goggling for enfettering sandwiches”
“…is skimming a scotch pancake across the loch”
“…is lightening the Jurassic pledge”
“…is carrying the nomadic preposition until it’s disqualified”
“…is using a pogo stick to pick high hanging fruit”
“…is generating concoctions to wash away the tea cups”
“…is suppressing the megalomaniac tendency in the ant community”
“…is considering Mr Dyas’ parasol”
“…is admiring the visual monstrosity of mud flaps”
“…is trapped in time between separate night vision”
“…is watching the radio as there’s nothing on the fridge”
“…is perplexed at the interest rate on a club biscuit”
“…is putting a ritz cracker in the telephone booth”
“…has be overrun by megalomaniac ants”
“…is singing until the light bulb changes its beliefs”
“…is infected with a one time itch”
“…is beginning to believe what he reads in the papers is all black and white”
“…has opened a coconut shaving and grating factory”
“…is reviewing the theory of opportunistic column snatching”
“…is condensing a boiled sweet”
“…is facilitating the memorandum of generational hair gain”
“…is mingling with the monster munch”
“…has yet to find a bald man who has never eaten a banana”
“…has a new plan for the megalomania ants”
“…is calmer now the apple tree is indoors”
“…is calculating the time the aliens have before the megalomaniac ants get them”
“…is running away from the invisible man”
“…is illuminating the cress as it grows sideways”
“…is sticking moss on the rolling stones”
“…is bouncing a sponge pudding in custard”
“…is weighing a pound of pears and a pair of pounds”
“…is washing the pavement before bedtime”
“…is listening to a tree fall in an empty forest”
“…is repulsed by the smell of cheesy wotzits on his pet dingo’s paws”
“…is struggling to find the right size bottle brush”
Do you long for an interesting status, but lack the mental capacity to invent your own?
Do your friends often ignore your Facebook updates?
Do you feel unloved and in need of attention?
Are you tired of having to buy a new car, buy a puppy or drop a kid before they’ll comment?
Then why not follow our prescription for Facebook status’… post one a day in the following order:
“…is punctuating the unstoppable sentence”
“…is bouncing a bag of oranges inside a balloon”
“…is a preventing enthusiastic vineyard overrunning the highways”
“…is sanding down the square peg until it’s too small for the hole”
“…is purchasing a new tent to live under the stairs in”
“…is positioned to fluctuate with the feather”
“…is perplexed by the accountability of penguins”
“…is frantically Goggling for enfettering sandwiches”
“…is skimming a scotch pancake across the loch”
“…is lightening the Jurassic pledge”
“…is carrying the nomadic preposition until it’s disqualified”
“…is using a pogo stick to pick high hanging fruit”
“…is generating concoctions to wash away the tea cups”
“…is suppressing the megalomaniac tendency in the ant community”
“…is considering Mr Dyas’ parasol”
“…is admiring the visual monstrosity of mud flaps”
“…is trapped in time between separate night vision”
“…is watching the radio as there’s nothing on the fridge”
“…is perplexed at the interest rate on a club biscuit”
“…is putting a ritz cracker in the telephone booth”
“…has be overrun by megalomaniac ants”
“…is singing until the light bulb changes its beliefs”
“…is infected with a one time itch”
“…is beginning to believe what he reads in the papers is all black and white”
“…has opened a coconut shaving and grating factory”
“…is reviewing the theory of opportunistic column snatching”
“…is condensing a boiled sweet”
“…is facilitating the memorandum of generational hair gain”
“…is mingling with the monster munch”
“…has yet to find a bald man who has never eaten a banana”
“…has a new plan for the megalomania ants”
“…is calmer now the apple tree is indoors”
“…is calculating the time the aliens have before the megalomaniac ants get them”
“…is running away from the invisible man”
“…is illuminating the cress as it grows sideways”
“…is sticking moss on the rolling stones”
“…is bouncing a sponge pudding in custard”
“…is weighing a pound of pears and a pair of pounds”
“…is washing the pavement before bedtime”
“…is listening to a tree fall in an empty forest”
“…is repulsed by the smell of cheesy wotzits on his pet dingo’s paws”
“…is struggling to find the right size bottle brush”
Shortest Known Recording
Act 1761, Scene 1
Using the right to be nosy act of 1761, the wiggy wigsters have managed to obtain a script from the locked drawer of a local playwright who needs no introduction (Ed - We don’t actually know his name and felt it was better to say that than risk embarrassment), which we believe to be the shortest play in the world. For your enjoyment we present for the first time “Ding-Dong”
{Curtain opens}
[Doorbell goes Ding-Dong]
[Geoff opens door]
[Gunshot noise – Geoff falls to the floor]
{Curtain closes}
“Ding-Dong” will be showing at the Mingle in the Dingle theatre in September. For tickets please search the internet for “Mingle in the Dingle Ding Dong” using your preferred internet search method.
My preferred internet search method is as follows:
Open Browser, go to Google (if not home page). Starting with my left hand, I type “mingle”, then switch to right hand, I type “ dingle” and then free style the rest. I then sometimes like to close the browser and repeat the entire process several times.
Tickets are priced at £25 for a child, £40 for an adult and £70 for a twin with sea view.
Using the right to be nosy act of 1761, the wiggy wigsters have managed to obtain a script from the locked drawer of a local playwright who needs no introduction (Ed - We don’t actually know his name and felt it was better to say that than risk embarrassment), which we believe to be the shortest play in the world. For your enjoyment we present for the first time “Ding-Dong”
{Curtain opens}
[Doorbell goes Ding-Dong]
[Geoff opens door]
[Gunshot noise – Geoff falls to the floor]
{Curtain closes}
“Ding-Dong” will be showing at the Mingle in the Dingle theatre in September. For tickets please search the internet for “Mingle in the Dingle Ding Dong” using your preferred internet search method.
My preferred internet search method is as follows:
Open Browser, go to Google (if not home page). Starting with my left hand, I type “mingle”, then switch to right hand, I type “ dingle” and then free style the rest. I then sometimes like to close the browser and repeat the entire process several times.
Tickets are priced at £25 for a child, £40 for an adult and £70 for a twin with sea view.
Book Idea for all aspiring writers
Stop the perspiration, here comes the inspiration
If there are any aspiring writers who have been perspiring for inspiration for their next book, then I would like to see the following book published.
Title: Dummies for Intellectual People
Contents: A book that teaches intellectual people (like you and I naturally) everything they need to know about “dummies” or stupid people as we often call them. Maybe the book could teach some basic language skill and guide for how to communicate with them. Maybe their interests, diet, daily routine, etc...
Please comment when this book has been written and we’ll let you know where to send the cheque and free copy to. After all it was our idea!
If there are any aspiring writers who have been perspiring for inspiration for their next book, then I would like to see the following book published.
Title: Dummies for Intellectual People
Contents: A book that teaches intellectual people (like you and I naturally) everything they need to know about “dummies” or stupid people as we often call them. Maybe the book could teach some basic language skill and guide for how to communicate with them. Maybe their interests, diet, daily routine, etc...
Please comment when this book has been written and we’ll let you know where to send the cheque and free copy to. After all it was our idea!
Blog Profiles #1
TGC
You know, not a day goes by without a random stranger (for arguments sake lets call him Hubert Flannellalel) approaching me in the street, park, beach, woods, hedgerow or alleyway and begging me to reveal the gossip, hidden secrets and facts about my fellow wiggy wigster bloggers. I often say that we as individuals are publicity shy, but this gave me the idea to cash in and blog their profiles.
Top of your most wanted list, apart from myself of course, is our very own Grey Cardigan, or as they call him in America the Gray Cardigan.
So here, live and exclusive, without further delay, hesitation, faltering, dilly-dallying, shilly-shallying, twaddle-tapping, hold-ups or scripted dawdling is the Grey Cardi’s profile, revealed to you for the first time ever.
Grey had a lonely childhood, born as the only child of the Black Pullover and the White Twin Set, he soon set off on his path of adventure.
By the age of three he was the youngest British holder of a licence to sell alcoholic beverage and made a fortune offering cheap booze to festival and concert revellers. The following summer, his luck turned, as profits dipped as the novelty of buying booze from a minor faded. Grey squandered his fortune on Sherbet Dabs and Flying Saucers and eventually lost his drinks licence at the age of five whilst attempting to sell apple juicy as whisky.
Ten days after losing his license to serve, Grey was rushed to hospital with a suspected Sherbet Dab overdose. It was as he lay on that hospital bed, with the stomach pumping machine whooshing in the background that he made his peace with the world and promised to turn his life around.
The following Monday he announced he was the love child of Bobby Moore and spent the summer appearing on all the gossip and chat show. He became a household face in Norfolk after appearing in a tourism advert for the Norfolk broads. To this day he’s still recognised and often gets free drinks and meals on day trips to Wroxham for simply say “Nooo folk like Norfolk”.
At the age of 21, he fled England’s white cliffs to spend the next three years living in Egypt, where he pretended to be a top archaeology graduate from Oxford called Nigel Lemons. Several years of wearing thin cotton shirts and a casual jumper over the shoulders followed. Just when a blossoming career was imminent, Grey (or Lemons) was caught up in an ancient artefacts theft shambles. Months later Grey was back in England and with the “Lemons Shamans” chant still ringing in his ears, he found himself once again back on the Sherbet Dabs.
It was at this point he was recruited in to the fellowship of the wig. “It turned my life around, made me a new man” He enthused in a recent interview in The Blog about Bloggers.
Faced with this new energy for life he married a centre fold playboy model called Sandy Willowstrap, invented the extra large cotton bud for the Mr and Mrs Big market, became the first person to bunny hop from Basingstoke to Salisbury, wrote the first backwards written novel and contributed hundreds of blog articles up until nearly 4 years ago, when he suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.
Throughout all of his life Grey has struggled with his adverse fear of all pointy objects (parsnips, carrots, umbrellas, pens, pencils and knitting needles, to mention a few). His fear is so extreme that even hearing the word “pointy” results in an instant panic attack, which is only cured by running in bare feet until his palpitations stop.
His worst attack came during a lunchtime visit to Sainsbury’s when an old lady approached him to question the firmness of a parsnip and asked whether it would still be of use in a soup. He instantly took flight, sprinting out of the shop with the old lady following him waving the parsnip all the way, persistently shouting out “Will this parsnip be any good for my soup?” The energetic chase lasted 3 years 294 days 21 hours 36 minutes and 5 seconds and only ended when the old lady accidentally tripped over a paving slab in Inverness, losing her grip on the troublesome parsnip. It was at this point (he-he!!!) that the persistent Sainsbury’s security guard, who had been following the old lady as she followed Grey, arrested her for shop lifting the parsnips. That old lady is now serving time for her crime.
However, it was not all bad news as Grey was recognised by Guinness as the World Record holder for the longest time running whilst being chased by a lady waving a parsnip. Many have tried to break his record, but the same number have failed.
Grey, now recovered from his parsnip pain, has relocated to the Isle of Thanet, which isn’t actually an island but part of the mainland, to write a book entitled “The Parsnip Diaries”. He also spends his evenings attempting to recreate his grandmother’s Cucumber Chutney recipe. Of course, he insists his local green grocer removes the cucumber “points” before delivery.
You know, not a day goes by without a random stranger (for arguments sake lets call him Hubert Flannellalel) approaching me in the street, park, beach, woods, hedgerow or alleyway and begging me to reveal the gossip, hidden secrets and facts about my fellow wiggy wigster bloggers. I often say that we as individuals are publicity shy, but this gave me the idea to cash in and blog their profiles.
Top of your most wanted list, apart from myself of course, is our very own Grey Cardigan, or as they call him in America the Gray Cardigan.
So here, live and exclusive, without further delay, hesitation, faltering, dilly-dallying, shilly-shallying, twaddle-tapping, hold-ups or scripted dawdling is the Grey Cardi’s profile, revealed to you for the first time ever.
Grey had a lonely childhood, born as the only child of the Black Pullover and the White Twin Set, he soon set off on his path of adventure.
By the age of three he was the youngest British holder of a licence to sell alcoholic beverage and made a fortune offering cheap booze to festival and concert revellers. The following summer, his luck turned, as profits dipped as the novelty of buying booze from a minor faded. Grey squandered his fortune on Sherbet Dabs and Flying Saucers and eventually lost his drinks licence at the age of five whilst attempting to sell apple juicy as whisky.
Ten days after losing his license to serve, Grey was rushed to hospital with a suspected Sherbet Dab overdose. It was as he lay on that hospital bed, with the stomach pumping machine whooshing in the background that he made his peace with the world and promised to turn his life around.
The following Monday he announced he was the love child of Bobby Moore and spent the summer appearing on all the gossip and chat show. He became a household face in Norfolk after appearing in a tourism advert for the Norfolk broads. To this day he’s still recognised and often gets free drinks and meals on day trips to Wroxham for simply say “Nooo folk like Norfolk”.
At the age of 21, he fled England’s white cliffs to spend the next three years living in Egypt, where he pretended to be a top archaeology graduate from Oxford called Nigel Lemons. Several years of wearing thin cotton shirts and a casual jumper over the shoulders followed. Just when a blossoming career was imminent, Grey (or Lemons) was caught up in an ancient artefacts theft shambles. Months later Grey was back in England and with the “Lemons Shamans” chant still ringing in his ears, he found himself once again back on the Sherbet Dabs.
It was at this point he was recruited in to the fellowship of the wig. “It turned my life around, made me a new man” He enthused in a recent interview in The Blog about Bloggers.
Faced with this new energy for life he married a centre fold playboy model called Sandy Willowstrap, invented the extra large cotton bud for the Mr and Mrs Big market, became the first person to bunny hop from Basingstoke to Salisbury, wrote the first backwards written novel and contributed hundreds of blog articles up until nearly 4 years ago, when he suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.
Throughout all of his life Grey has struggled with his adverse fear of all pointy objects (parsnips, carrots, umbrellas, pens, pencils and knitting needles, to mention a few). His fear is so extreme that even hearing the word “pointy” results in an instant panic attack, which is only cured by running in bare feet until his palpitations stop.
His worst attack came during a lunchtime visit to Sainsbury’s when an old lady approached him to question the firmness of a parsnip and asked whether it would still be of use in a soup. He instantly took flight, sprinting out of the shop with the old lady following him waving the parsnip all the way, persistently shouting out “Will this parsnip be any good for my soup?” The energetic chase lasted 3 years 294 days 21 hours 36 minutes and 5 seconds and only ended when the old lady accidentally tripped over a paving slab in Inverness, losing her grip on the troublesome parsnip. It was at this point (he-he!!!) that the persistent Sainsbury’s security guard, who had been following the old lady as she followed Grey, arrested her for shop lifting the parsnips. That old lady is now serving time for her crime.
However, it was not all bad news as Grey was recognised by Guinness as the World Record holder for the longest time running whilst being chased by a lady waving a parsnip. Many have tried to break his record, but the same number have failed.
Grey, now recovered from his parsnip pain, has relocated to the Isle of Thanet, which isn’t actually an island but part of the mainland, to write a book entitled “The Parsnip Diaries”. He also spends his evenings attempting to recreate his grandmother’s Cucumber Chutney recipe. Of course, he insists his local green grocer removes the cucumber “points” before delivery.
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