It'll all end in tears....

I know you've all probably logged on hoping to read my fascinating views on dwindling resources and the increasing gap between rich and poor in the world - I know I did - but sorry, too busy/tired/unarsed to type it all out. I'll maybe do it this weekend, or alternatively take me to a pub, ask me and sit back and enjoy the rant (add beer for comedic effect).

My jam-packed social diary is starting to make sense.... :(



Anyway, seeing as I'm here I'll share two small discoveries with you. Firstly, I think I found my first proper grey hair this morning which is excellent news. Men look distinguished with grey hair, plus it'll distract women long enough for them not to look at my face before I stun them with my charm and sweep them off their feet. Yeah.

Secondly, I discovered today that looking where you're going is a fantastic idea. Where I work the toilets are off the main stairwell and have two doors separating corridor from toilet (I presume to save the vision of those walking up the stairs should they accidentally spot a man at a urinal). The corridor/stairwell is well lit and has plenty of windows overlooking the courtyard between several buildings, as does the short gap between the two doors to the toilet. While nipping to the loo after lunch I spied a rather fine looking individual in the courtyard (I'm not a letch, honest. I am simply male) and continued to look out of the windows as I walked along the corridor at a fair pace - arm outstretched to push open the door.

I pushed open the first door while still idly staring to my right as something rather pert and scantily clad undulated past the fountain, keeping my pace up as I pushed open the second door without looking.

Only it wasn't there.

In fact, someone coming out of the loo had rapidly yanked the inner door open. So instead of the second door halting my progress, I found myself dangerously off-balance and still striding into the toilet.

Then, obviously, my legs did what all people's would do when they felt themselves falling forward.

They sped up.

So now I'm careering at roughly 45 degrees, practically running, with legs shooting all over the place like a Parkinson's suffer on a sugar rush, straight at the urinals. Strangely my arm is still straight out in front of me trying to push open an imaginary door.

Time slows in moments like this. It slowed enough for me to recognise that the person I'm headed straight for is the Senior IT Manager, in the process of shaking off. I guessed it would not be considered a 'good career move' to headbutt your boss' boss' boss. In the arse. While he's holding his cock.

My left arm, having received exactly bugger all help from my brain - which was busy gibbering in fear - snapped out in search of an anchor and found the only thing sticking out from the tiled wall on my left. The hand-dryer. This had the double effect of spinning me away from the urinals, and turning the hand-dryer on. My right arm, palm still upraised, smacked into the wall as I slid neatly into place in front of the dryer.

My boss' boss' boss turned from the urinal to find me nonchalantly drying my hands for no apparent reason, radiating innocence. I received the 'nod' that is all that men are allowed to communicate with in the toilet.

Man I'm smooth.....



I won't comment much on the game last night as I didn't really care about it. I found plenty of humour in missed penalties and the sending off, but for me the funniest thing was Joe Cole's reaction after not being given a corner he thought he deserved. Namely:

Ha ha ha.

Of course Chelski lost. As a Spurs fan I'm supposed to not like Chelski. Which is good, because I can't stand the jumped up Fulham-with-800-million-pounds gits. A sentiment shared by our players. Here's Didier Zokora on hearing the result last night: