I'm the Yum Yum criminal!

Never thought I would say such a thing, but I was a little bit naughty, I must admit - I didn't have enough money for a proper lunch, so I ate 4 soft iced Yum Yums in desperation, which has deprived some (obviously equally hungry) team-mates of their afternoon snack...I must pay back this mistake tomorrow (thankfully it's payday)... ;)

Not sure if it's cooler to be the Yum Yum Criminal or the Yum Yum Gangster...still thinking it over... ;)

Ahem - "I am the hip-hop-a-potamus, my lyrics are bottomless... ;0" :)

No Legolas! To your bed!

You are *not* in the Hobbit and you blooming well know it...! Bad Elf of the Woodland Realm! I'm *very* cross with you...! >:(

The Devil Child of Redhill >:(

So the other day as I sat my (tired and hot) sorry arse down at Redhill Bus Station (having run from platform 3 at the railway station above, just missing my early bus home), throwing my bag to the ground and then settling into a reasonable impression of a dog that's been in the sun too long...I squinted up at the arrivals board to see how long I would have to (theoretically) wait...it wasn't long, only 7 minutes, so I exhaled heavily, wiped my brow and then pulled my rucksack over with my foot and plunged inside for my book (just to help pass the time) my mind and body starting their settle towards a state of rest...it can't have been one paragraph later that I was interrupted by a harsh whistling sound, over and over again coming from the shelter in the centre of the traffic island...a small boy, perhaps six years old, was stood inside next to a dark haired woman who was doing a very good job of ignoring him (reading a magazine and rolling a cigarette) as he stood inches from her back, alternating blowing the whistle with all his might and then beating her back (as hard as he could) with his free hand...when this didn't elicit any response he took two steps back and threw the whistle at the woman's head...

I'll admit, I was openly gawping at this point (along with most of the other people waiting for buses) - my book forgotten in my hand - as he ran to the shelter window and started banging his hands against it, each one formed up into the correct position (if you will forgive the Americanism) to be flicking her "the bird"...it was at this precise moment that the woman suddenly stood, charging over to where the whistle lay on the floor, stamping on it once, very firmly, the sound of shattering plastic clearly audible, then returned, still avoiding any eye contact with the child, to her magazine...

At once, the child ran out of sight behind the bus station office, hands covering his eyes, noisy wails emerging from his mouth...mother, I was guessing now, didn't even glance up...when the child reappeared, it was to throw both his shoes at her (missing both times, but using such force they bounced out of the shelter and half way across the distance between him and me, tumbling to a halt near the rubbish bin)...more indecent gestures banging the glass followed, until he slumped down on a chair near the first bus stop, pausing only for a second to flick a McDonalds drink carton (half full of water where residual ice had melted) at a girl I later presumed must have been his sister (as she took it completely in her stride, just sticking her tongue out, to his enormous frustration)...shortly after this my bus arrived, and I piled on, leaving him to his tantrum (and them to their nightmare)...

I surprised myself, I was actually extremely angry at him and felt very sad for her...I mean, the mum was hardly doing herself any favours, but something about being in the position I am (with Flyingpops being pregnant) just filled me with rage when I juxtaposed this behaviour into a future where this was happening (after all the tears, laughter, joy, despair, pain, excitement, dreaming and bloody hard work) to a woman who must have gone through similar sorts of emotions and happy preparation as we have done...only to have this ungrateful devil visited upon her...I mean really...what would you do?

Naughty Fink

Naughty Fink
Originally uploaded by kipperfrog.

Honestly, that wasn't me (spotted on Kipperfrog's photostream)..!

Number 17 bus, Cannon Street

Well, never had this happen before, well apart from when Cannon Street was completely closed for road works - the number 17 bus this morning, after only waiting about five minutes (staring at the admittedly unmoving traffic jam), just gave up and carried on up King William Street...! What's that all about!?

So, sorry to anyone that was queuing for the number 17 bus down there, that's why you had an extra long wait this morning...! Not that I should be complaining, I got in super early...! ;)

Bowlarama at the Trocadero

Last night was the office "Bowlarama!", we all met up for a quick drink in the Lincoln Lounge (it of the naughty artwork) then managed to split up into about 10 different groups in the crush and confusion on the tube -

- arriving staggered over the space of about 20 minutes at the Strada in Panton Street (near Leicester Square) -

- as a result we were cutting it pretty fine for the alloted slot for the bowling alleys -

- thus it was straight to main courses, I went for the "Pizze rosse" (sic) which was spicy sausage, caramelised red onion, red peppers, tomato and cheese (and jolly good too, once I had added freshly ground black pepper and a generous amount of peri peri oil, which was thoughtfully left on the table) -

- then it was on to the Trocadero, which is much less exciting for the death of SEGA World (the owners just put a coke machine in front of the escalator that used to lead up there), "The Aliens Experience" and the IMAX cinema, the majority of the machines that comprised the former are now scattered around pretty much everywhere, so it looks like FunLand bought them all up and just expanded over the whole place...

...there is, at least, one cinema still in there, lending a small illusion to the contrary...the shops, of course, survive in various reinventions of themselves, and a slightly seedy undertone is lent to the place by the addition of a number of market stall affairs touting cheap jewellery and mobile phone accessories (this is not the Trocadero of old)...

The crew descended on the dodgems, with a similar enthusiasm to that witnessed at the climax of "Carry on at your Convenience" -

- and then onto the main event of the evening, amazingly they had bowling shoes in my size(!), and the finger didn't get in the way of an almost respectable performance from me (once I had warmed up)...but I was no-where near the league of the heavy hitters who seemed to manage to effortlessly get strike after strike (a mis-spent youth, obviously) ;)

Then, equally amazingly, "B" and I had a relatively stress free journey home, my train (from Victoria) dropped me right at Earlswood, so I had a lovely spooky walk through the (full moon lit) fog across the fields, back to the house, and bed...

Interesting shops of Kings Cross #9 - The Scotsman

...not a shop, so much as a pub, but behind those tiny windows, odd and prominent "NO MOBILE PHONES PERMITTED" signs and (poorly) written exterior notices (even the pub name is just scrawled in chalk on the front of the building, click the picture for a bigger version), lurk I know not what...well, apart from three bits of collected evidence presented here for your consideration...

a) Last summer, on a golden sunny day, in the very early evening witnessing (on my dash to the station to catch my train) three men in hard hats and HVJs totally abandon their cement lorry amid much cheering, whooping and wolf-whistling, in the middle of the Caledonian road (thereby completely blocking the left hand lane by the bus stop) when they caught sight of *something* in the darkened interior that evaded my more distant gaze, being, as I was, on the other side of the road (and in a hurry)...

b) Talking about event (a) with "B" shortly after it had occured in "The Driver" (local nice pub/resturant) and one of the Aussie barmen overhearing a portion of our conversation, mistakenly thinking we frequented said establishent and saying "Oh, you guys go to the Scottie eh?" and giving us a meaningful wink. When we confessed that in fact we didn't go there, he went all quiet and made excuses to leave our company, which he had seemed so keen to be in beforehand...indirect evidence, I admit, but still suspicious...meritous, in fact, of an exchange of Spock-like raised eyebrows in response...

c) Most damningly, a snatched glance (again on my way to catch my train home) of a lady, in what appeared to be a swimming costume, holding a pint glass in her hand, filled not with beverage, but glittering coin...before the door slammed shut behind the besuited gentleman entering the premesis...in fairness, it was quite a hot day, and it is possible they just have an unusually relaxed dress code...but that doesn't explain her unusual cash storage arrangement...

Will the Jury need time to consider their verdict? ;)

Further evidence can be found here...but consider that link NSFW if URLs are routinely monitored at your place of work...you don't want it in the proxy log under your name... ;)

How many more "interesting" shops will I stumble upon within a 5 minute walk of my place of work?!