Understanding Joey Public.


Gluing my hand to my head seems extreme, Mr Ashley.

Slow news days always produce stories that can make a person wonder if they have just woken up in an alternative reality.  One where the journalists failed to use the The Day Today’s calculation of “Fact x Importance = News”.  The slow news day has been blighting and amusing news consumers for many years with stories about large vegetables, semi Royal visits, pork chops that look like James Cordon and James Cordon looking like a pork chop.

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Blackmail, Treachery And Cornish Pasties.


Be careful of a man who splashes.

Work days always begin in a very similar way in my modest little life.  A cup of coffee, check the emails, check Facebook and then check Twitter.  I am not certain when Facebook and, more latterly Twitter, became part of my morning routine, but there we have it.  Then it is a jump into the car and off to work with the inevitable situation where I am concerned that I have a flat tyre or two.  I don’t know why I always think that I have a flat tyre and I have no reason to think that I have a flat tyre.   But I drive down the potholed roads in Northern Ireland convinced that I am listing to once side and increase my swearing vocabulary by sticking two sweary style words together as I become more amazed by the high quality of moron that has somehow been given a driving licence over here.  I sometimes indulge in a little tmesis, which I learned sometime ago to be the insertion of one word within another.  We have all done it. Of that I am abso-f@(&ing-lutely certain.

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One Lump Or Two?


One Lump Or Two?

Bean Shaker.

I can’t remember exactly when it occurred, but I know it came just after our high streets were redecorated with green corners and smelling of Gareth Hunt’s right hand.  For younger readers, please Google Gareth Hunt and his coffee bean manipulating right hand.  After Starbucks, came Costa Coffee, Coffee Republic, Mocha Do About Nothing and many more coffee shops.  They became the tyrant of the charity shops, as they themselves had become the tyrant of the grocers and butchers before them.  As a non coffee drinker, I was safe.  This fanatical approach to beverages that would not make me fall over was a little scary, but at least at work I could rest easy knowing that people would only ever be able to handle what ever the thimble like portions the machine spewed out.

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