Dear Dennis,
I went to see my doc last Tuesday and yes, true to form he told me how he always has curry for breakfast and that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. After that he asked how I was. “Its my foot doc” I told him. “Do you do much exercise?” he enquired (I’ve been here before, many times) “What with this foot?” I countered. There, that silenced him. He then noticed I was struggling to do up my boot after he’d seen my foot from safely behind his desk. He checked out my neck and I told him I had been getting pins and needles in my right arm for a couple of months now. He twisted my head a couple of times and added “stiff neck” to the x-ray form then ushered me out of the door. I gathered my family and we made a trek to the hospital the very next day – Saul had to go for a scan thing but that’s another story – and me for my x-rays. Now, forgive me but I thought x-rays went through things like clothes. Why then did they (three young nurses and not a matron in sight) insist I get completely undressed, stand against some machine out of Dr Who, with one arm up in the air and the other straight down and holding a really heavy bottle? And why did they need all those “student nurses” (some of them were blokes so I didn’t believe a word of what they were telling me) to come in and “observe”? After several retakes and lots of kafuffle, I left the hospital with my family in tow, not feeling any better for my experience and everywhere I went in the hospital nurses stopped and stared, they even stopped whispering and looked at me when I walked into the cafeteria for a perky cup of No-Name Assam. I did ask if I could see the x-rays but the nurse told me they were to be analysed and then sent on to my doctor and that I should make an appointment to see him – oh if only she knew the trouble trying to make an appointment to see a doctor round our way. Well that is where I am this week – still hobbling, looking only to the left, slightly more radio active than last week, NOT eating curry for breakfast and awaiting an appointment to see my doctor.
All the best.
D.
28 June 2006
23 June 2006
Dear Dennis 24/6/2006
Dear Dennis,
She’s probably been sacked by now and I sold the camera on @bay.
I don’t know but it’s been painful to walk for about two years now ever since young Charlie stomped my foot one day – I’ve got an appointment with Dr on Monday (unless he calls in sick again). Whenever I go to the Benefits Office they ask how I am and I always tell them my foot is giving me gip – they don’t really want to know how I am it’s just a ritual we go through. Blog = http://d6equj5.blogspot.com as a matter of interest have you ever done a search on “6equj5” on the inter wibbly thing?
D.
-----Original Message-----From: dennis] Sent: Friday, June 23, 2006 11:36
Subject: RE: The Giro
I think you should call the nice lady back. You never know you could get a picture of you holding a giro up to the camera while your suffering family gaze up at you in a pleading way. I 've seen such photos.
What's wrong with your foot?
How does one get to the blog then, I have a right to know if I'm being slandered and missing out on compo.
Dennis
She’s probably been sacked by now and I sold the camera on @bay.
I don’t know but it’s been painful to walk for about two years now ever since young Charlie stomped my foot one day – I’ve got an appointment with Dr on Monday (unless he calls in sick again). Whenever I go to the Benefits Office they ask how I am and I always tell them my foot is giving me gip – they don’t really want to know how I am it’s just a ritual we go through. Blog = http://d6equj5.blogspot.com as a matter of interest have you ever done a search on “6equj5” on the inter wibbly thing?
D.
-----Original Message-----From: dennis] Sent: Friday, June 23, 2006 11:36
Subject: RE: The Giro
I think you should call the nice lady back. You never know you could get a picture of you holding a giro up to the camera while your suffering family gaze up at you in a pleading way. I 've seen such photos.
What's wrong with your foot?
How does one get to the blog then, I have a right to know if I'm being slandered and missing out on compo.
Dennis
Dear Dennis 23/6/2006
Dear Dave
I think the world has gone mad!! Have you tried feigning drunkenness and speaking "foreign" you may get what you need just to get rid of you.
I should take all of your experiences to your MP's surgery.
Dino
Dear Dennis,
The world, except you and me, has indeed gone mad. I did send an account of my experiences with the Benefits Agency to my MP as you suggest and he replied! He wanted to know my full name, address and National Insurance number – these I duly emailed back and I’ve heard nothing since … I suspect being a Labour MP he just passed them to the Agency and told them to watch out as I could be someone who would ask awkward questions of switchboard operators. However last night the local “Evening Post” called my mobile – I didn’t pick it up because if your number isn’t known by my phone I refuse to answer – I need formal introductions first. I did a Wibbly Wobbly search for the number and it came back as belonging to: Judith Toner advertising@reading-epost.co.uk Maybe she wants to advertise on my Blog or at least get a mention. Job done Judith and you’re welcome. I wonder how they got my number though as I haven’t given it to them and didn’t give it to my MP. I didn’t want him pestering me asking which way he should vote in “der House”. Did you know that the distance between the Government and Opposition benches is designed to be two sword lengths apart so they can’t come to parries during a debate? If I was one of them I’d make myself an extra long sword or is there a regulation sword length and anyone caught with a longer one goes straight to the factory?
I shuffled into town yesterday with Saul and the brunette (my foot is giving me gip). A really helpful young lady at the Benefits House (a bit of a loose canon I suspect) looked up the number at the top of my giro and told me at which Post Office I could cash it. She suggested I didn’t put in for a "change request", as this would probably result in my claim being lost in the system forever and said it was probably best just to go to that Post Office and cash the thing. I was on a roll. I asked when I might get some benefits and she told me the whole sorry saga of “Canterbury”. Apparently they are just drafted in to make up the numbers and are not fully trained whereas the operatives in the branch offices know the whole system and can provide real help (except of course the telephone operators and receptionists). Also “Canterbury” regularly ship claims off to different parts of the country (including my experience with Nottingham) to “help the figures”. And she advised me to not ring “Canterbury” as each time I only get through to their menu system and voice thingy I am charged for the call even though I don’t actually get through to anyone – bloody hell I’ve been ringing them on and off about 100 times a day for the last three weeks – I just press ‘redial’ until I get a real person on the line. Bloody hell! I am going to email MP Laughing Clown about this one aswell. By this time the security guards were gathering and scowling firstly at my audacity to go in expecting some help and secondly at her for daring to give out accurate and sensible information. I expect her days are numbered at the Agency. I gathered up my family and hurriedly left the building.
The upshot of all that is that I did get my giro cashed and dutifully handed it over to the brunette. She then took me and Saul into the 99p shoppe to get Saul and Charlie a treat. Whatever happened to Pound Shoppes? It was all so much easier back then – maybe they should team up with the Busses as they must have too much change and the busses don’t give any out.
There was a report in our Local “News Paper” that the council were stopping the free service of exterminating rats and that their subjects would have to pay £25 a time in future. Another report says that the council are stopping weekly dust-bin collections and will only collect every other week instead – surely these two are connected and are a part of some crazy money making scheme for the councils Christmas Do? If they park a skip outside every residence they’d only have to collect rubbish once a month and would make a fortune from rat catching! They’d have to buy a load of skip lorries though and employ several thousand rat catchers. There is quite a furore going on about it all but what amazes me is that residents think that by complaining they can get the council to change it’s policy or get anything done – don’t they realise this is READING COUNCIL and the town belongs to them not the residents. Gone are the days when we used to turn our school caps around and pretend to be dust-bin-men because it was fun and they were seen as some sort of hero of the neighbourhood and our dad used to give them a Christmas box each year. These days they won’t collect all the rubbish we put out and they don’t even put the bin back in our garden after emptying it. It is a sad testament to town councils and progress.
The brunette has gone off for the day to show potential undergrads the work the Chemistry Department does, Saul is at crèche and Charlie is at school, the cats are fed and asleep, the stereo still only works on the left channel, telly aerial is slopping at 45 degrees to the roof so the signal is rubbish, washing up needs doing, bathroom floor tiles need finishing off, wind turbine needs tinkering with, window frames need painting, push bike needs oiling, solar panel needs cleaning, police helicopter is hovering overhead looking for some local ner-do-well. I think I’ll make a cup of tea and go sit in the shed for a while.
The blog message wasn’t spam but don’t worry as it’ll carry on without you.
D.
I think the world has gone mad!! Have you tried feigning drunkenness and speaking "foreign" you may get what you need just to get rid of you.
I should take all of your experiences to your MP's surgery.
Dino
Dear Dennis,
The world, except you and me, has indeed gone mad. I did send an account of my experiences with the Benefits Agency to my MP as you suggest and he replied! He wanted to know my full name, address and National Insurance number – these I duly emailed back and I’ve heard nothing since … I suspect being a Labour MP he just passed them to the Agency and told them to watch out as I could be someone who would ask awkward questions of switchboard operators. However last night the local “Evening Post” called my mobile – I didn’t pick it up because if your number isn’t known by my phone I refuse to answer – I need formal introductions first. I did a Wibbly Wobbly search for the number and it came back as belonging to: Judith Toner advertising@reading-epost.co.uk Maybe she wants to advertise on my Blog or at least get a mention. Job done Judith and you’re welcome. I wonder how they got my number though as I haven’t given it to them and didn’t give it to my MP. I didn’t want him pestering me asking which way he should vote in “der House”. Did you know that the distance between the Government and Opposition benches is designed to be two sword lengths apart so they can’t come to parries during a debate? If I was one of them I’d make myself an extra long sword or is there a regulation sword length and anyone caught with a longer one goes straight to the factory?
I shuffled into town yesterday with Saul and the brunette (my foot is giving me gip). A really helpful young lady at the Benefits House (a bit of a loose canon I suspect) looked up the number at the top of my giro and told me at which Post Office I could cash it. She suggested I didn’t put in for a "change request", as this would probably result in my claim being lost in the system forever and said it was probably best just to go to that Post Office and cash the thing. I was on a roll. I asked when I might get some benefits and she told me the whole sorry saga of “Canterbury”. Apparently they are just drafted in to make up the numbers and are not fully trained whereas the operatives in the branch offices know the whole system and can provide real help (except of course the telephone operators and receptionists). Also “Canterbury” regularly ship claims off to different parts of the country (including my experience with Nottingham) to “help the figures”. And she advised me to not ring “Canterbury” as each time I only get through to their menu system and voice thingy I am charged for the call even though I don’t actually get through to anyone – bloody hell I’ve been ringing them on and off about 100 times a day for the last three weeks – I just press ‘redial’ until I get a real person on the line. Bloody hell! I am going to email MP Laughing Clown about this one aswell. By this time the security guards were gathering and scowling firstly at my audacity to go in expecting some help and secondly at her for daring to give out accurate and sensible information. I expect her days are numbered at the Agency. I gathered up my family and hurriedly left the building.
The upshot of all that is that I did get my giro cashed and dutifully handed it over to the brunette. She then took me and Saul into the 99p shoppe to get Saul and Charlie a treat. Whatever happened to Pound Shoppes? It was all so much easier back then – maybe they should team up with the Busses as they must have too much change and the busses don’t give any out.
There was a report in our Local “News Paper” that the council were stopping the free service of exterminating rats and that their subjects would have to pay £25 a time in future. Another report says that the council are stopping weekly dust-bin collections and will only collect every other week instead – surely these two are connected and are a part of some crazy money making scheme for the councils Christmas Do? If they park a skip outside every residence they’d only have to collect rubbish once a month and would make a fortune from rat catching! They’d have to buy a load of skip lorries though and employ several thousand rat catchers. There is quite a furore going on about it all but what amazes me is that residents think that by complaining they can get the council to change it’s policy or get anything done – don’t they realise this is READING COUNCIL and the town belongs to them not the residents. Gone are the days when we used to turn our school caps around and pretend to be dust-bin-men because it was fun and they were seen as some sort of hero of the neighbourhood and our dad used to give them a Christmas box each year. These days they won’t collect all the rubbish we put out and they don’t even put the bin back in our garden after emptying it. It is a sad testament to town councils and progress.
The brunette has gone off for the day to show potential undergrads the work the Chemistry Department does, Saul is at crèche and Charlie is at school, the cats are fed and asleep, the stereo still only works on the left channel, telly aerial is slopping at 45 degrees to the roof so the signal is rubbish, washing up needs doing, bathroom floor tiles need finishing off, wind turbine needs tinkering with, window frames need painting, push bike needs oiling, solar panel needs cleaning, police helicopter is hovering overhead looking for some local ner-do-well. I think I’ll make a cup of tea and go sit in the shed for a while.
The blog message wasn’t spam but don’t worry as it’ll carry on without you.
D.
20 June 2006
Dear Dennis 20/6/2006
Impressed with your constructions. I should check that the house is well pegged down as it might just lift off. Have you thought that sprog may have been watching daddy's building skills an has constructed a well disguised lift platform from which to fire footerballs at your wind farm?
I have two brothers neither called Barbera.
Dennis
Dear Dennis,
You could be right - I'll check the bamboo clump for iron fret-work and pulleys. My sister is called Beverley and she is not my brother who is also not called Albert.
I was startlingly awakened this morning by young Saul jumping on my bladder shouting "Daddy I need a wee wee!" Ah the joys of parenthood at it's best. I followed him down stairs and out the back door to the lavvy. Arty from next door was already installed on his throne and was warming the air from his side. "Morning Art" I called while settling Saul on the seat. "yep mornin' Davey lad" "I've got young Saul with me" I told him before he started going on about the Saphist dog next door the other side. Have you got the picture? Can you see me in your mind there Dennis?
A deep breath was summoned and I went to sign-on this afternoon. A ponytailed er ... security badged, person stopped me in my tracks and said "you can't go up there wiv no appointment know what I mean?" as I tried to go through the door as usual, to the first floor. I had the brunette with me so I had my polite but sarcastic hat on. "It's the management" he said, taking the line straight from a Monty Python sketch without so much as a by-your-leave (nor a smile). I turned and looked at the brunette "you're not Management are you darling?" she raised her eyes skyward then I confirmed it to Mr Security "no, we're not management". The security person looked puzzled for a moment but then came back with "only one can go upstairs". The brunette looked at me and said "go on, you go up and I'll wait" but I cut her off, leaned toward him and asked in my loudest whisper "which one of us do you want to go upstairs?" the brunette went and stood and examined a display of leaflets and I waved my ES40JP at the security person, thanked him for his help and slipped through the door and up the stairs. It was obviously being mulled over and sank in to his brain a few seconds later as he called up the stairs as I neared the top "OK". They are so funny, I love going there every second Tuesday.
Catch ya soon eh?
D
I have two brothers neither called Barbera.
Dennis
Dear Dennis,
You could be right - I'll check the bamboo clump for iron fret-work and pulleys. My sister is called Beverley and she is not my brother who is also not called Albert.
I was startlingly awakened this morning by young Saul jumping on my bladder shouting "Daddy I need a wee wee!" Ah the joys of parenthood at it's best. I followed him down stairs and out the back door to the lavvy. Arty from next door was already installed on his throne and was warming the air from his side. "Morning Art" I called while settling Saul on the seat. "yep mornin' Davey lad" "I've got young Saul with me" I told him before he started going on about the Saphist dog next door the other side. Have you got the picture? Can you see me in your mind there Dennis?
A deep breath was summoned and I went to sign-on this afternoon. A ponytailed er ... security badged, person stopped me in my tracks and said "you can't go up there wiv no appointment know what I mean?" as I tried to go through the door as usual, to the first floor. I had the brunette with me so I had my polite but sarcastic hat on. "It's the management" he said, taking the line straight from a Monty Python sketch without so much as a by-your-leave (nor a smile). I turned and looked at the brunette "you're not Management are you darling?" she raised her eyes skyward then I confirmed it to Mr Security "no, we're not management". The security person looked puzzled for a moment but then came back with "only one can go upstairs". The brunette looked at me and said "go on, you go up and I'll wait" but I cut her off, leaned toward him and asked in my loudest whisper "which one of us do you want to go upstairs?" the brunette went and stood and examined a display of leaflets and I waved my ES40JP at the security person, thanked him for his help and slipped through the door and up the stairs. It was obviously being mulled over and sank in to his brain a few seconds later as he called up the stairs as I neared the top "OK". They are so funny, I love going there every second Tuesday.
Catch ya soon eh?
D
19 June 2006
19/6/2006
Dear Dennis,
Thanks for offering to put the brunette up while on her course, you are tremendously generous and I have a warm glow because of it. I mentioned your generosity to the brunette and she was quite blown away. It would be quite an occasion to meet after all these many years of ridicules @mail to-ing and fro-ing. She is still working on details and which course is the one for her – we’ll let you know if and when, some time before she knocks your door. Thank you.
I have attached a quadruplet of photo’s of my wind generator turbines currently in development.
Mk1 is residing on the bathroom roof and is a fixed direction, triple blade applied to a 24v motor being used wired in reverse to generate small amounts of electricity and has problems because the gearbox I used to get the motor to turn faster than the wind, takes too much power to turn although in a strong northerly it fairly buzzes.
Mk2 is a development blade system which won’t need a vane type thing to turn it into the wind as it will always spin in the right direction no matter where the wind comes from. It is effectively two halves of a drain-pipe.
Mk3 is the Venetian blind turbine. It turns into the wind, has six blades, uses a properly wound generator (coil moves around fixed armature and it can either store electricity in an on-board storage capacitor or send it directly into the kitchen for charging rechargeable AA / AAA batteries. I have deformed the blades forward to stop it clattering on the pole. In wind and when turning, the blades flatten out but never (so far) enough to strike the pole. The blades are approx 10” long and the pole is attached via two varnished noggins of seasoned lelandii, to the house wall thereby lifting the turbine to about 30’.
Charlie “accidentally” managed to hit the vane with his footerball this evening and shatter the vane blade so it has been temporarily replaced with a slightly smaller version. Quite how he managed to hit it 30 foot up on a thin pole I don’t know but he came in and apologised so I thanked him and told him I was impressed with his footerballing skills and accuracy.
I have to “sign-on” tomorrow so I’ll be practising my deep breathing and sea
19/6/2006
My dearest Dennis,
I’m not sure if I told you but I managed to make an appointment last week to see the doctor for this morning. Well who should ring first thing? It was the doctors’ secretary phoning to say he’d called in sick and asking if my appointment was urgent. How on earth should I know if it is urgent, I haven’t managed to see him since I started trying to make appointments four weeks ago – for all he knows it could have dropped off by now! I know what he’ll say when I eventually get to see him and tell him that my arm keeps going numb and getting pins and needles – he’ll say “how long has this been happening?” I’ll tell him “oh about five or six weeks now” and he’ll say, “why didn’t you come in sooner?” and I’ll have to tell him about the saga of trying to make a doctors appointment in the real world, how the first appointment took 12 days from my first phone call, then the secretary talked me out of an appointment as I didn’t know if it was urgent or not and then he was off sick and how I can never get an appointment sooner than 7 or 8 days from phoning. His eyes will glaze over and he’ll go off into his “I have curry for breakfast” routine and I'll have lost his attention for another few weeks.
I cooked a blinder of a barbeque yesterday – we don’t encourage young Charlie to cook any more, not since the episode a couple of weeks ago where the brunette and I ended up dashing to the loo in the night and Charlie was shouting “ROLF!” down the toilet. He of course maintains it was heat stroke and little Saul wasn’t affected at all (stomach of steel that boy) (it’ll be those caterpillar eggs and sharing his breakfast with the cats that does it). Anyway we all sat down on the concrete slabs arranged in a patio fashion and started to eat. I noticed something was missing – my burger had gone! Of course I kicked up a stink and was about to fling a fork at the nearest cat when Charlie pointed out that my burger was sauce side down and stuck to the top of my shoe. The mustard sauce is still engrained in the suede. I’ll put them in the washing machine hidden in a bundle of towels when the brunette isn’t looking. I don’t know what next door paint their fence with but it must be tasty because their bull whatsit terrier was eating great chunks off it while we were having our barbeque. Daft as bat that dog. Did I tell you it climbs their tree and barks at the kids when they play footerballs in the garden? I’ll tell you, if it ever makes it through or over the fence I’ve told the brunette to scoop the kids and I’m diving straight for my shed and my collection of sharpened blunt implements.
The wind turbine is giving cause for concern this morning. I used the Venetian blind slats for the six blades and it all looked beautiful and worked a treat but this morning the wind has got up a bit and the blades get pushed out of shape temporarily by the wind and in strong gusts now thwack on the pole holding the contraption up in the air. Causes quite a noise too. A bit like when we used to peg playing cards on our bike forks to make them clatter on the spokes like a spitfire noise - why don't kids do that any more? I’m going to try shortening the blades little by little but that will then take some of the power out of the system as it won’t have the same inertia although it should spin faster in a slower breeze – I’ll play with it a bit to find the optimum. I could ‘step the pole’ I suppose, to allow the blades to deform with impunity – may be better in a high wind and would act as a feathering device to govern the speed a bit … maybe … gotta go … brunette got hold of my ear …
I’m not sure if I told you but I managed to make an appointment last week to see the doctor for this morning. Well who should ring first thing? It was the doctors’ secretary phoning to say he’d called in sick and asking if my appointment was urgent. How on earth should I know if it is urgent, I haven’t managed to see him since I started trying to make appointments four weeks ago – for all he knows it could have dropped off by now! I know what he’ll say when I eventually get to see him and tell him that my arm keeps going numb and getting pins and needles – he’ll say “how long has this been happening?” I’ll tell him “oh about five or six weeks now” and he’ll say, “why didn’t you come in sooner?” and I’ll have to tell him about the saga of trying to make a doctors appointment in the real world, how the first appointment took 12 days from my first phone call, then the secretary talked me out of an appointment as I didn’t know if it was urgent or not and then he was off sick and how I can never get an appointment sooner than 7 or 8 days from phoning. His eyes will glaze over and he’ll go off into his “I have curry for breakfast” routine and I'll have lost his attention for another few weeks.
I cooked a blinder of a barbeque yesterday – we don’t encourage young Charlie to cook any more, not since the episode a couple of weeks ago where the brunette and I ended up dashing to the loo in the night and Charlie was shouting “ROLF!” down the toilet. He of course maintains it was heat stroke and little Saul wasn’t affected at all (stomach of steel that boy) (it’ll be those caterpillar eggs and sharing his breakfast with the cats that does it). Anyway we all sat down on the concrete slabs arranged in a patio fashion and started to eat. I noticed something was missing – my burger had gone! Of course I kicked up a stink and was about to fling a fork at the nearest cat when Charlie pointed out that my burger was sauce side down and stuck to the top of my shoe. The mustard sauce is still engrained in the suede. I’ll put them in the washing machine hidden in a bundle of towels when the brunette isn’t looking. I don’t know what next door paint their fence with but it must be tasty because their bull whatsit terrier was eating great chunks off it while we were having our barbeque. Daft as bat that dog. Did I tell you it climbs their tree and barks at the kids when they play footerballs in the garden? I’ll tell you, if it ever makes it through or over the fence I’ve told the brunette to scoop the kids and I’m diving straight for my shed and my collection of sharpened blunt implements.
The wind turbine is giving cause for concern this morning. I used the Venetian blind slats for the six blades and it all looked beautiful and worked a treat but this morning the wind has got up a bit and the blades get pushed out of shape temporarily by the wind and in strong gusts now thwack on the pole holding the contraption up in the air. Causes quite a noise too. A bit like when we used to peg playing cards on our bike forks to make them clatter on the spokes like a spitfire noise - why don't kids do that any more? I’m going to try shortening the blades little by little but that will then take some of the power out of the system as it won’t have the same inertia although it should spin faster in a slower breeze – I’ll play with it a bit to find the optimum. I could ‘step the pole’ I suppose, to allow the blades to deform with impunity – may be better in a high wind and would act as a feathering device to govern the speed a bit … maybe … gotta go … brunette got hold of my ear …
16 June 2006
16/6/2006
Hi my nearly geek friend,
Life is certainly looking good this morning. On a walk of the neighbourhood I spied a discarded Venetian blind in a front garden propped against a wheelie bin, I knocked the door and asked if I could have it and they said yes! It is a bit grubby but it’ll clean up just nice and I only want a few of the slats to use as turbine blades. Then, I was up in our loft searching for things to sell on the ebay and found an old tin marked “coins”. I eagerly brought it downstairs and cut it open with the brunettes’ best scissors. Out tumbled several twenty pence pieces, a few five pence’s, one’s, two’s a paper clip and a florin! There isn’t quite enough for a tin of cat food but we’re certainly on the way!! My MP hasn’t replied to my email regarding the Benefits people but it was quite a tome so he’s probably getting one of his researchers to read it for him. I brought up quite a few points but left out the tussle with the traffic warden and that unfortunate incident with the rubber pigeon decoy in the magistrates’ court at my council tax hearing. Have you tried dropping a “Minto” into a bottle of coke? It goes mad!! Something to do with the coating causing the carbon dioxide to very rapidly exit the cola! Brunette got her results yesterday and achieved the impossible – we go to watch her pick up her degree at the end of the month. I’ll take my camera as there’s always some idiot with a backless gown and no pants trying to get a laugh, you know what students are like. So it is one year of post grad to go and I can stop walking on eggshells and going to bed on my own whilst the brunette burns the midnight oil. It is fathers day on Sunday – a sad day as my grown up kids (with the red-head) won’t speak to me but then a happy day as Saul (of brunette issue) makes me laugh so much. I was showing him a butterfly last evening in the garden and pointing out it’s antennae and wings and we agreed it was very pretty but then he bounced the football on it and said “it’s gone now”. I don’t know which is worse, that or laughing at the cats as they jump around the garden trying to catch and chew them. We found some caterpillar eggs neatly arranged on one of the leaves of my tomato plants and we both examined them through a magnifying glass. Saul wanted to eat them but when I said “yes go on then” and stood back, he eyed me suspiciously and didn’t try them. Apparently Eingerland played a match of footerballs and won yesterday which is good from what I understand from the neighbour and from whom I refused, several times, a swig from his tin of special brew. I haven’t managed to find out what team they were playing or in what league but I’ll try to keep you informed if you’re interested.
Life is certainly looking good this morning. On a walk of the neighbourhood I spied a discarded Venetian blind in a front garden propped against a wheelie bin, I knocked the door and asked if I could have it and they said yes! It is a bit grubby but it’ll clean up just nice and I only want a few of the slats to use as turbine blades. Then, I was up in our loft searching for things to sell on the ebay and found an old tin marked “coins”. I eagerly brought it downstairs and cut it open with the brunettes’ best scissors. Out tumbled several twenty pence pieces, a few five pence’s, one’s, two’s a paper clip and a florin! There isn’t quite enough for a tin of cat food but we’re certainly on the way!! My MP hasn’t replied to my email regarding the Benefits people but it was quite a tome so he’s probably getting one of his researchers to read it for him. I brought up quite a few points but left out the tussle with the traffic warden and that unfortunate incident with the rubber pigeon decoy in the magistrates’ court at my council tax hearing. Have you tried dropping a “Minto” into a bottle of coke? It goes mad!! Something to do with the coating causing the carbon dioxide to very rapidly exit the cola! Brunette got her results yesterday and achieved the impossible – we go to watch her pick up her degree at the end of the month. I’ll take my camera as there’s always some idiot with a backless gown and no pants trying to get a laugh, you know what students are like. So it is one year of post grad to go and I can stop walking on eggshells and going to bed on my own whilst the brunette burns the midnight oil. It is fathers day on Sunday – a sad day as my grown up kids (with the red-head) won’t speak to me but then a happy day as Saul (of brunette issue) makes me laugh so much. I was showing him a butterfly last evening in the garden and pointing out it’s antennae and wings and we agreed it was very pretty but then he bounced the football on it and said “it’s gone now”. I don’t know which is worse, that or laughing at the cats as they jump around the garden trying to catch and chew them. We found some caterpillar eggs neatly arranged on one of the leaves of my tomato plants and we both examined them through a magnifying glass. Saul wanted to eat them but when I said “yes go on then” and stood back, he eyed me suspiciously and didn’t try them. Apparently Eingerland played a match of footerballs and won yesterday which is good from what I understand from the neighbour and from whom I refused, several times, a swig from his tin of special brew. I haven’t managed to find out what team they were playing or in what league but I’ll try to keep you informed if you’re interested.
16/6/2006
Hi, yes I am more up-beat and thanks for your email.
I made some coca-cola ice lollies today but all the taste is concentrated into one small glob at the top while the rest just tastes of water. I asked the brunette why this was and do you know what she said? She turned around and said, “I’ve got a degree now and I don’t have to answer your stupid questions any more” … I nearly fell off my chair! This is how I’m treated! After all I’ve done for her too. Coca cola doesn’t separate like that in the bottle in the fridge so why should it do that when being frozen?
Ah that’s something I meant to ask you. How long have you had a brother for? I ‘ve never heard you mention him before your email the other day. I’ve got a brother. We’re so alike you and me. Have you got two sisters? Is one called B?
D
I made some coca-cola ice lollies today but all the taste is concentrated into one small glob at the top while the rest just tastes of water. I asked the brunette why this was and do you know what she said? She turned around and said, “I’ve got a degree now and I don’t have to answer your stupid questions any more” … I nearly fell off my chair! This is how I’m treated! After all I’ve done for her too. Coca cola doesn’t separate like that in the bottle in the fridge so why should it do that when being frozen?
Ah that’s something I meant to ask you. How long have you had a brother for? I ‘ve never heard you mention him before your email the other day. I’ve got a brother. We’re so alike you and me. Have you got two sisters? Is one called B?
D
14 June 2006
14/6/2006
I wrote to my MP last night and this morning the stereo only works on the left channel so Leonard Coen hasn’t got the same bounciness to him when I play “Suzanne takes you down …”. I was mending the brunettes’ bike yesterday and left my tools out – now I’ve got a water cooled hammer and socket set. Talk-Talk left a message on our answer phone for us to ring them but they’ve cut us off so we can’t ring out. I’m going to sit in my shed for a while with a tin of sardines. I may be gone for some time.
13 June 2006
13/6/2006
Dear friend,
Thank you for your kind words.
I have today reached the end of my tether. I received a letter from the Job Centre and it didn’t contain a giro for cash dated from 5th April as I was expecting but instead it was a letter from the Nottingham Branch requesting confirmation from the University that I am not a student any more and details of mine and the brunettes student loans accounts and they want this information before tomorrow otherwise my “claim will be affected”. I called Nottingham to ask why they needed this as I’d already handed that information to my local branch some weeks ago and could I have more time to locate the original documentation. Nottingham were puzzled and said the letter hadn’t come from them even though it had their letter head and telephone number at the top and that Canterbury sometimes do this to adjust their call figures … (I swallowed hard) they couldn’t help me and instead suggested I ring my local branch. I rang as suggested but they said they couldn’t help with a Nottingham query and suggested I ring the mystical ‘Canterbury’. I rang Canterbury and after about the 60th time of dialling (literally) and getting their recorded message, I spoke to a person. The person told me she couldn’t help. I asked to be put through to someone who could help – “sorry I can’t do that”. “Well could I speak to your supervisor?” “I’m sorry I can’t do that, I suggest you ring [your local branch]” Well could I have an extension on the time needed to gather the information you ask for in the letter from Nottingham?” “If you don’t give us the information we ask for then your claim will be affected and may be delayed“. I asked the significance of the brunettes student loan details – “it is an income” “No it’s not” I said “it has to be repaid so it can’t be classed as an income” “we class it as an income” was the curt response. I rang my local branch. I spoke to Ms P (a Welsh speaker I think) but she couldn’t access my information as my details are “with Canterbury”. I asked to speak to her supervisor “certainly sir” … click … brrrr. I rang again “I think I was cut off, could you put me through to your supervisor please?” “Certainly sir”. Click, brrrr. I got the message and rang their switchboard “Hi, could I make an appointment to speak to someone about my claim?” “Yes, just a moment” … click, brrrr. I rang back “Hi, I think you cut me off, could I make an appointment to speak to someone about my claim?” “Yes, just a moment” … click, brrrr. I rang back “Hi, I think you’ve got a problem with your phones, I was cut off again” “How can I help sir?” (It was the same girl I spoke to seconds ago for the other two calls.) “Could I make an appointment to speak to someone about my claim please?” “Have you already made a claim?” “yes” “when did you make the claim?” “5th April” “Have you spoken to Canterbury?” “Yes” “OK I’ll just put you through to someone” click … brrrr.
I thought carefully about phoning the local paper to say there was a bomb at the Unemployment office but I thought of the crying mothers trying to get crisis loans to tide them over until their claims are sorted and the poor guys who dash in from the vans with paint all over their clothes to pick up their giros, the spitting teenagers with bull mastiffs and bettattood girlfriends tied to the bike rails outside and the wide eyed middle aged blokes with neatly bound folders clutched tightly to their chests sitting on the chairs in the corner not knowing quite what to do and trying really hard to avoid looking at anyone. I settled on a cup of tea instead and fought off a sob. My friend, I am suffering for my art but I don’t know what my art is any more. I tried cutting a noggin off a piece of 4x2 yesterday and couldn’t even get enthused about that. And it ended up all crooked. I couldn’t even make an appointment to see the doctor today. I rang the surgery but the receptionist started to ask awkward questions like “is it urgent” (how do I know until I’ve seen the doctor about it?) and “what do you want to see the doctor for” I didn’t like to say and she talked me out of it. I’ll try again another time. I made a nice box for the cat to sit in and have her kittens though, it is wooden with a bit at the front to stop the kittens falling out and it is lined with news paper. She of course refuses to go anywhere near it and the brunette just laughed. I don’t think I could fix a computer any more even if I was paid to do it.
Ah well, I’ve just got to find something I’m good at
D
Thank you for your kind words.
I have today reached the end of my tether. I received a letter from the Job Centre and it didn’t contain a giro for cash dated from 5th April as I was expecting but instead it was a letter from the Nottingham Branch requesting confirmation from the University that I am not a student any more and details of mine and the brunettes student loans accounts and they want this information before tomorrow otherwise my “claim will be affected”. I called Nottingham to ask why they needed this as I’d already handed that information to my local branch some weeks ago and could I have more time to locate the original documentation. Nottingham were puzzled and said the letter hadn’t come from them even though it had their letter head and telephone number at the top and that Canterbury sometimes do this to adjust their call figures … (I swallowed hard) they couldn’t help me and instead suggested I ring my local branch. I rang as suggested but they said they couldn’t help with a Nottingham query and suggested I ring the mystical ‘Canterbury’. I rang Canterbury and after about the 60th time of dialling (literally) and getting their recorded message, I spoke to a person. The person told me she couldn’t help. I asked to be put through to someone who could help – “sorry I can’t do that”. “Well could I speak to your supervisor?” “I’m sorry I can’t do that, I suggest you ring [your local branch]” Well could I have an extension on the time needed to gather the information you ask for in the letter from Nottingham?” “If you don’t give us the information we ask for then your claim will be affected and may be delayed“. I asked the significance of the brunettes student loan details – “it is an income” “No it’s not” I said “it has to be repaid so it can’t be classed as an income” “we class it as an income” was the curt response. I rang my local branch. I spoke to Ms P (a Welsh speaker I think) but she couldn’t access my information as my details are “with Canterbury”. I asked to speak to her supervisor “certainly sir” … click … brrrr. I rang again “I think I was cut off, could you put me through to your supervisor please?” “Certainly sir”. Click, brrrr. I got the message and rang their switchboard “Hi, could I make an appointment to speak to someone about my claim?” “Yes, just a moment” … click, brrrr. I rang back “Hi, I think you cut me off, could I make an appointment to speak to someone about my claim?” “Yes, just a moment” … click, brrrr. I rang back “Hi, I think you’ve got a problem with your phones, I was cut off again” “How can I help sir?” (It was the same girl I spoke to seconds ago for the other two calls.) “Could I make an appointment to speak to someone about my claim please?” “Have you already made a claim?” “yes” “when did you make the claim?” “5th April” “Have you spoken to Canterbury?” “Yes” “OK I’ll just put you through to someone” click … brrrr.
I thought carefully about phoning the local paper to say there was a bomb at the Unemployment office but I thought of the crying mothers trying to get crisis loans to tide them over until their claims are sorted and the poor guys who dash in from the vans with paint all over their clothes to pick up their giros, the spitting teenagers with bull mastiffs and bettattood girlfriends tied to the bike rails outside and the wide eyed middle aged blokes with neatly bound folders clutched tightly to their chests sitting on the chairs in the corner not knowing quite what to do and trying really hard to avoid looking at anyone. I settled on a cup of tea instead and fought off a sob. My friend, I am suffering for my art but I don’t know what my art is any more. I tried cutting a noggin off a piece of 4x2 yesterday and couldn’t even get enthused about that. And it ended up all crooked. I couldn’t even make an appointment to see the doctor today. I rang the surgery but the receptionist started to ask awkward questions like “is it urgent” (how do I know until I’ve seen the doctor about it?) and “what do you want to see the doctor for” I didn’t like to say and she talked me out of it. I’ll try again another time. I made a nice box for the cat to sit in and have her kittens though, it is wooden with a bit at the front to stop the kittens falling out and it is lined with news paper. She of course refuses to go anywhere near it and the brunette just laughed. I don’t think I could fix a computer any more even if I was paid to do it.
Ah well, I’ve just got to find something I’m good at
D
11 June 2006
Dear Dennis 11/6/2006
Dear Dennis,
The assault on Waitrose was successful and we were victorious. My team arrived back at camp almost exactly halfway through the Grand Prix so all of the brunettes’ objectives were met. I have averted two minor skirmishes between Saul and Charlie and have lit the barbeque although apparently I always burn everything and so Charlie has been tasked with blackening the sausages. I don’t really mind but I set his chair on the edge of the patio so when he sat down he fell off – there that’ll show him. I received a scowl from the brunette for my efforts but at least Saul thought it was funny and we giggled. I have organised three books, an AV multi-selector and a pair of two-way radios to sell on Ebay so far. I am going to mount my wind turbine on the wall/roof this afternoon and am whittling a couple of clamping blocks for the pole to do the job. I could really do with a circular saw as in all my years I’ve never been able to saw a straight or true line and spend hours trying to sand things straight again and then they usually end up too small or short and I have to try again. Our pregnant queen is suffering in the heat and she is lying under the dining table now but her tummy keeps bobbling as the kittens move about (I just hope there aren’t too many). Saul needs me to go and play with him now – I’m going to be General Grievous but I do get to fly the Millennium Falcon – I’ll let you know how it all goes later or tomorrow.
David
The assault on Waitrose was successful and we were victorious. My team arrived back at camp almost exactly halfway through the Grand Prix so all of the brunettes’ objectives were met. I have averted two minor skirmishes between Saul and Charlie and have lit the barbeque although apparently I always burn everything and so Charlie has been tasked with blackening the sausages. I don’t really mind but I set his chair on the edge of the patio so when he sat down he fell off – there that’ll show him. I received a scowl from the brunette for my efforts but at least Saul thought it was funny and we giggled. I have organised three books, an AV multi-selector and a pair of two-way radios to sell on Ebay so far. I am going to mount my wind turbine on the wall/roof this afternoon and am whittling a couple of clamping blocks for the pole to do the job. I could really do with a circular saw as in all my years I’ve never been able to saw a straight or true line and spend hours trying to sand things straight again and then they usually end up too small or short and I have to try again. Our pregnant queen is suffering in the heat and she is lying under the dining table now but her tummy keeps bobbling as the kittens move about (I just hope there aren’t too many). Saul needs me to go and play with him now – I’m going to be General Grievous but I do get to fly the Millennium Falcon – I’ll let you know how it all goes later or tomorrow.
David
Dear Dennis 11/6/2006
Dear Dennis,
I got up at 10 o’clock this morning. The brunette was on the phone to her mother and young Charlie was shouting at her that she was a liar. Saul came upstairs for some sanctuary and we sat in bed watching a cooking programme for a while and once the dust had settled we got up and went down stairs. I think we’re having another barbeque today for lunch as the brunette is planning a raid on Waitrose for just about the time the GP is due to start. I’m told I have to mend the brunettes’ bike although I was chatting to the ‘sophist’ sisters over the fence and they gave me one of their old bikes the other day so, I can make one good out of the two and don’t have to de-rust and re-cable the Brunettes' Sturmey Archer three speed. The brunette is starting a week’s school experience on Monday at Charles school so I have the car for a week but I don’t know what to do with it. I have the doctors on Monday morning and shall get a replacement x-ray card for my foot (he gave me one two years ago but I lost it and haven’t liked to go back and ask for another) and I’ll mention my pins and needles and he’ll point out my excessive weight, tell me of the virtues of curry for breakfast and we’ll part both muttering under our breath. I have dug out some more stuff from my shed to sell on Ebay this week and talk-talk have restricted our out-going calls although they’ve not said why and their offices don’t open until Monday morning. I’ve just been informed that I am involved in the imminent attack on Waitrose …
I watched a short bit of the town festival this morning but it’s all too noisy these days and I can’t understand what they’re singing and the crowds’ state of undress embarrasses me.
My brother doesn’t call me these days – I think it may have something to do with the cold icy day 2nd Rayners Lane cubs played 1st Rayners Lane cubs at footerballs on Roxbourne park and I was so cold I couldn’t run after the ball or even get changed afterward as my hands were too numb and hurt. I gave up footerballs after that and grew my hair longer.
The brunette has mentioned Waitrose again and rattled her keys – catch up later …
D.
I got up at 10 o’clock this morning. The brunette was on the phone to her mother and young Charlie was shouting at her that she was a liar. Saul came upstairs for some sanctuary and we sat in bed watching a cooking programme for a while and once the dust had settled we got up and went down stairs. I think we’re having another barbeque today for lunch as the brunette is planning a raid on Waitrose for just about the time the GP is due to start. I’m told I have to mend the brunettes’ bike although I was chatting to the ‘sophist’ sisters over the fence and they gave me one of their old bikes the other day so, I can make one good out of the two and don’t have to de-rust and re-cable the Brunettes' Sturmey Archer three speed. The brunette is starting a week’s school experience on Monday at Charles school so I have the car for a week but I don’t know what to do with it. I have the doctors on Monday morning and shall get a replacement x-ray card for my foot (he gave me one two years ago but I lost it and haven’t liked to go back and ask for another) and I’ll mention my pins and needles and he’ll point out my excessive weight, tell me of the virtues of curry for breakfast and we’ll part both muttering under our breath. I have dug out some more stuff from my shed to sell on Ebay this week and talk-talk have restricted our out-going calls although they’ve not said why and their offices don’t open until Monday morning. I’ve just been informed that I am involved in the imminent attack on Waitrose …
I watched a short bit of the town festival this morning but it’s all too noisy these days and I can’t understand what they’re singing and the crowds’ state of undress embarrasses me.
My brother doesn’t call me these days – I think it may have something to do with the cold icy day 2nd Rayners Lane cubs played 1st Rayners Lane cubs at footerballs on Roxbourne park and I was so cold I couldn’t run after the ball or even get changed afterward as my hands were too numb and hurt. I gave up footerballs after that and grew my hair longer.
The brunette has mentioned Waitrose again and rattled her keys – catch up later …
D.
09 June 2006
9/6/2006
Hi, Dear Denisos,
you’re a sweet-heart and I’m sorry for my words in my last @mail. ‘Bothered’ was not the right word and now I’ve bothered you. I’m sure you’re right only to answer some of my many, many questions and interminable drivel. If I’m honest most of it is rhetorical or devised to spawn a short debate. I have little interest in much these days although I found some fly fishing line the other day and have downloaded an EBook on knots from the wibbly wobbly and practise tying my knots of an evening sitting in my rocker on the decking under the shed veranda trying to blot out next doors reggae and her down the road screaming at her kids. The budgies and rabbits are strangely calming although I can’t see how their owners (being card holding A.L.F. members) square with keeping them locked in a cage all the time and not letting them go free and wild. I’m relieved your Carol has recovered. The brunette is still waiting for her exam results and keeps telling me that no-one has got a ‘first’ at the local Uni for Chemistry for the last four years. I reassured her not to worry her pretty head and that I was sure she did her best but she is still worrying and hasn’t spoken to me since. I wish to incorporate a self-feathering device into my turbine design to optimise what little wind there is at times and then blasting gusts at others. I thank you for your time, indulgence and patience. Perhaps you could make an off-the-record approach to Bal and ask something like “brrr brrr brrr click, Hi Bal me old mate, what became of that D who applied for the IT support job”? Please view my other items for sale on Ebay.
D
you’re a sweet-heart and I’m sorry for my words in my last @mail. ‘Bothered’ was not the right word and now I’ve bothered you. I’m sure you’re right only to answer some of my many, many questions and interminable drivel. If I’m honest most of it is rhetorical or devised to spawn a short debate. I have little interest in much these days although I found some fly fishing line the other day and have downloaded an EBook on knots from the wibbly wobbly and practise tying my knots of an evening sitting in my rocker on the decking under the shed veranda trying to blot out next doors reggae and her down the road screaming at her kids. The budgies and rabbits are strangely calming although I can’t see how their owners (being card holding A.L.F. members) square with keeping them locked in a cage all the time and not letting them go free and wild. I’m relieved your Carol has recovered. The brunette is still waiting for her exam results and keeps telling me that no-one has got a ‘first’ at the local Uni for Chemistry for the last four years. I reassured her not to worry her pretty head and that I was sure she did her best but she is still worrying and hasn’t spoken to me since. I wish to incorporate a self-feathering device into my turbine design to optimise what little wind there is at times and then blasting gusts at others. I thank you for your time, indulgence and patience. Perhaps you could make an off-the-record approach to Bal and ask something like “brrr brrr brrr click, Hi Bal me old mate, what became of that D who applied for the IT support job”? Please view my other items for sale on Ebay.
D
06 June 2006
6/6/2006
My dear friend,
I’m quite pleased your ears are back to normal but how is Carols throat? Have you any more info on Watford? Do you know ought about Savonius vanes? Where is that piece of scaffold pole? My experiences with the benefits agency took an unexpected turn today – I’m still not receiving benefits after first applying on 5th April (that’s not the surprising bit) but today I was asked if I was still a full time student – I was flabber ghasted – I’ve not been a full time student since April 2005 – this clerical error is apparently the main cause of me not receiving any benefit money for our little family of four. I have to admit to getting rather hot under the collar with them today and was immediately surrounded by non-english speaking security boys who kept saying “man back come” at me. At first I thought they wanted me to come back and I explained I hadn’t yet gone anywhere but it later transpired that I should wait until some guy came back from going to investigate the problem. Any road I think I’ll write it all down under the title “It took me two years to claim unemployment benefit and this is how I did it”. Tell me, if a Tourette’s person was never taught swear words, what would they shout? If one of our kids suffered from it I’d try only to teach him complicated math formulae or something more useful than w@nkers! Just imagine … E=Mc2!! or Hydrolysis!! I’m probably being insensitive but it all makes perfect sense to me at this moment although in a weeks time I’d struggle to find the mind-set that took me to that thought.
Right then I’ll hear from you in a month or so …
Ah you’re a pilot aren’t you? Could you get me a gyroscope? I’m making a self balancing wheeled device.
Thanks
D
I’m quite pleased your ears are back to normal but how is Carols throat? Have you any more info on Watford? Do you know ought about Savonius vanes? Where is that piece of scaffold pole? My experiences with the benefits agency took an unexpected turn today – I’m still not receiving benefits after first applying on 5th April (that’s not the surprising bit) but today I was asked if I was still a full time student – I was flabber ghasted – I’ve not been a full time student since April 2005 – this clerical error is apparently the main cause of me not receiving any benefit money for our little family of four. I have to admit to getting rather hot under the collar with them today and was immediately surrounded by non-english speaking security boys who kept saying “man back come” at me. At first I thought they wanted me to come back and I explained I hadn’t yet gone anywhere but it later transpired that I should wait until some guy came back from going to investigate the problem. Any road I think I’ll write it all down under the title “It took me two years to claim unemployment benefit and this is how I did it”. Tell me, if a Tourette’s person was never taught swear words, what would they shout? If one of our kids suffered from it I’d try only to teach him complicated math formulae or something more useful than w@nkers! Just imagine … E=Mc2!! or Hydrolysis!! I’m probably being insensitive but it all makes perfect sense to me at this moment although in a weeks time I’d struggle to find the mind-set that took me to that thought.
Right then I’ll hear from you in a month or so …
Ah you’re a pilot aren’t you? Could you get me a gyroscope? I’m making a self balancing wheeled device.
Thanks
D
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