Does The Balloon Warden Look Like Alan Turner???

Alan Turner
Originally uploaded by michaels122.

Well its Sunday 30th October 2005 and I am 14 months sober today, that is fourteen months since I escaped from that alcoholic hell hole, they tell me in the AA that alcoholism is a disease which some people have in there genes from birth.
I am not sure about that anymore but nobody says you have to believe everything they tell you in order to get sober, to me I think it has something to do with certain members in the fellowships pride.
If they can say I messed up my life through drink but I am not responsible for it because I have this disease it gets them off the hook.
I do believe in a higher power though, we are told we can choose any conception of a higher power we want but somehow I don’t think we can have literally anything, for example how can my cat remove my defects of character.
I believe that there is a force which connects all living things and our brains are like quantum receivers and transmitters to this morphogenetic field and all the thoughts we think either directly or indirectly influences our future and the interactions we have with others.
Other than that I try not to analyze it anymore but believe that we will one day return back to our source and only then will we be able to see the bigger picture, that is when we die and look back on our lives like a dream from the four dimensional perspective of the afterlife.
So while we are still here on this physical plane it is up to us to love others as we would love ourselves and most of all be aware that the way we think of other people even privately can affect each and every one of us.
It doesn’t mean that I am able to practice what I preach to 100% or even 25% but I know that it is a lifes work.
Enjoying each minute and living in the “Now” is extremely important especially since we are brainwashed by society and our nanny governments to constantly live our lives worrying about the future and this also increases the collective consciousness of what is considered normal and therefore since we are all connected adds to the pressure to live our lives not enjoying the present.
I suppose it is very difficult to enjoy living in the present if the place where you work and spend about 1/3rd of our lives is populated by people who have no idea how to treat others which until now was where I felt myself to be.
The characters who I share my work day with now are great people, some having spent an unbelievable 30 years working in the same place.
Alf Garnet, is our Assistant Manager and he is the person I am referring to with 3 decades experience of making bricks, he is a very intelligent guy with a huge background of collective knowledge that only years of experience can give.
He also has a good sense of humour and is personality isn’t really as rude as the TV character of the same name but I do sometimes detect a little resentment against me, only occasionally mind you.
Zippy has just recovered from Bird Flu and his role is working in the stock yard counting bricks and just recently upgrading his home computer with all the software he can find that is free as well as obtaining free advice.
He is quite a happy chappy but seems to have the attention span of a baboon at times and like me has been reduced to a meaningless bachelor existence by previous relationships that destroyed his desire to share his life with someone else.
He did say to me though he hadn’t got has bad as myself at least he had always had someone to bash his bishop and didn’t have to resort to such pathetic things as doing it himself.
Me and Zippy have been helping each other though lately upgrading our computers and I have know got Windows XP through one of Zippys seedy contacts called Inspector Gadget though I did have to telephone Microsoft to get mine registered because the code IG had supplied me with had been used on a few thousand previous occasions.
Next week I should be up and running with the latest Nero release which with the addition of some compacting software will allow me to copy just about anything.
Three of the foundations of Alcoholics Anonymus are Willingness, Honesty and Open Mindedness and the way I am carrying on just lately it seems that I am grossly infringing the second one to such an extent I went to see my Jedi Master JMSS (my AA sponsor) on Wednesday.
I explained all about me getting all this dodgy software and he asked me if I could install it on his PC as well adding that you can only be honest with people who are honest in return and Microsofts monopoly of the PC market is hardly in that category itself.
He also said that your level of honestly depends linearly on your conscience and if you feel justified in your Cowboy antics then it can contribute to your sobriety.
The Balloon Warden is excellent at delegation said one of our members of the office who wishes to remain anonymous after returning from his PDR and one of the lads thinks he looks a bit like Alan Turner off Emmerdale.
He is certainly a lot different from the Headmistress who was my last boss, she was a dainty little figure physically whereas he is very large but seems to have a good heart and cares about his subordinates morale.
He reminds me a little of the Ghost of Christmas Past from Scrooge only he doesn’t have a beard but I don’t think he looks much like Alan Turner off Emmerdale so I have to disagree with Don on that.
He does however get a bit peed off when people from the accounts keep on charging other peoples company cars on to his budget and making it nearly impossible to balance the monthly accounts correctly and stay within our spending limits.
He also gets a bit annoyed by the number of fleeces being delivered from ARCO and certain office members playing stupid things on the internet on a dinnertime and telling people who phone up asking for him that he is having parties.
He was also annoyed with me for saying in my blog last week that I was getting bored and even telling Sunrise & Nman when they came for there weekly Dawn Raid so he gave me a training matrix to do the next time I felt fed up.
The Honey Monster and George have both only been in the office part time last week, George has been acting really strange like there is something deeply on his mind but he certainly isn’t sharing it with me, he calls me the office megaphone.
No one has yet got to the bottom of who was stealing his biscuits but I did catch The Honeymonster placing one of Georges buns on my desk probably to put me in the frame, needless to say it didn’t work because I told George I had no idea how it got there.
So like Ants in the nest or bees in a beehive we are all happy bunnies working together to produce lots of lovely bricks but very few wagons as of late seem to be taking them away and the yard is gradually filling up but we are told not to worry about it because our supreme management know what they are doing.
This weekend we have been rained off again though we did yesterday go for a ride on the field with Christine and The Falcon and before that we went to Huddesfield Market as per the usual routine.
WE being me, Luke and Squeaky and while there we bumbed into one of my old drinking buddies The Shadow, I assumed it was my Higher Power bringing us together for the first time since I gave up drinking.
The Shadow said he was giving up drinking himself and was down to just one 3 litre bottle of White Frightening (which has never seen a apple) Cider per week and did not need the AA because he was not weak.
He said I should not “dis” my mates but understood that I had to stop drinking in order to save what little sanity I had left.
My boss Alan Turner/The Balloon Warden said once someone has crossed him he never forgives them but unfortunately us alcoholics who are recovering cannot live like that and what for one man will be okay, to us will lead to resentment back to drink the possibly death (or so the AA bible says).
I noticed that he couldn’t look me in the eye when he was telling me how wonderful his life was and I could have just got drunk from the alcoholic fumes on his breath.
Anyway Luke and Squeaky are waiting for me now to go in the field on there motorbikes so I had better go, Lukes mum Amidala has moved back to T1000 terminator/The Emporer again so I will be expecting some trouble later when it comes time for Luke to go back to his mums.
I will hand it over to my HP then and continue to enjoy the prent now, see you all soon

I AM CYBERNET

Ghosts Caught On Film
Originally uploaded by michaels122.

I am turning into a right computer geek, I have decided against buying a new computer for now at least instead I have bought a 7 socket USB hub and a DVD rewriter, the only problem I have at the moment is that I am still using Windows 98 operating system.
However the kind computer geek at PC world told me about “LimeWire” website which is the biggest file sharing program on the planet and he promises I could easily download Windows XP from there.
Also over the weekend I have got Broadband internet access which is so incredibly fast compared to dialup that its like being transferred to another world, the poor guy who came to do the installing could not believe the state of my bedroom which has been subsequently cleaned and I have a brand new computer desk.
I also installed a 40 Gigabyte file sharer a bit like a mini server to store all these files I am downloading from “Lime Wire”, at the moment this megafast broadband is downloading “Visual Basic 6” which even at 70 KB per second will take over 1 ½ hours.
I am certainly living up to my new works nick name of “Cybernet” kindly awarded to me by The Honey Monster whos character slowly metamorphoses between that extreme and the other end of the spectrum Mini Roundabout.
Yes work at the lost world isn’t going so bad, but it can get a bit boring at times now with the lack of wagons and the fact that my purchasing function is all going smoothly, and I have been told by my boss the Balloon Warden to try and work a little on the small talk to wagon drivers.
In addition to Bruce and Bruces’ son we also have a few more regulars kindly named by The Honey Monster and Zippy namely Captain Caveman, Fish Lips and Fat B*stard, this brings the grand total now to five.
Zippy came back last week after suffering from Birdflu the week before and the only remaining symptoms now appear to be the occasional desire to go lay eggs and collect twigs and bits of straw in his mouth/beak when running round the yard.
Unfortunately this highly contagious disease has been passed on to Alf Garnet who has been off ill since Tuesday, of course the official reason for his absence has been that he went to see a neurologist.
George who sits in the corner near me has had a few problems with his printer this week but other than that he has been very quiet, probably due to his mouth being covered with a white handkerchief.
Anyway writing this is passing a little time on my Visual Basic program is now 17% downloaded, I will put it on to a CD then and install it on my Server drive so that I can write my own Windows applications has a hobby.
Just took Jedi Luke and Squeaky home to their mums, Queen Amidala and Dominating Donna, Squeaky then went to stay at the third of the sisters houses who we call the Beautiful Blonde.
The only problem is she makes the other two sisters look like nuns, she is absolutely crazy even if she is quite attractive to look at.
Queen Amidala was as usual moaning about her neighbourhood, she said that it makes Iraq look like a fairytale and thinks the TV soap Eastenders is like watching songs of praise when compared to the activities she sees out of her window.
Strangely me and Amidala get on quite well now, she even commented today that our relationship could be compared to the lyrics of “cool” by Gwen Stephanie but she is very streetwise though she often complains that her streetcred takes a nose dive when I turn up.
All the street are playing their latest Gangster Music and she is stood at her gate with her neighbours when I roll up playing “Two Little Boys” by Rolf Harris and drop Luke off.
Well its back to the lost world tomorrow, I think I might go on Shite hawk if its not raining again, that is all it seems to have done just lately.

Letter To Cyber-mum

Confusion
Originally uploaded by michaels122.

Hi Eva
Hope you dont mind I am recording this message for my blog, I just like to do a step ten every so often...
Just come back tonight from Holmfirth after an top class share by someone who I have never met before but has been around for nearly ten years and never drank again since his first meeting.
There was so much I related to and the other discussions in the room it prompted I feel I need to write it down here, in a letter to my cybermum. Common traits for alcoholics seems to me to be "The First Day At School Syndrome" where they hang on to there mummies not wanting to go out in to the dreaded unknown and meet all these strange new people.
I think if most AA candidates are really honest that is why they struggle on so long without going to the AA, it certainly was the case with me, if my mum didnt wave to me after dropping me off I would cry uncontrollably and I found it very difficult to relate to the other kids, getting to know someone new still holds a huge mental block even now-a-days I will cling to someone I know rather than explore my social skills with someone I dont.
Another common trait is the when left to your own devices without a external routine to keep you on track is to go off the rails, having a day off can start me off on an emotional rollercoaster- I will just clean out that drawer I think to myself, then I find a photo which triggers off another wild excursion which can lead me into the Garage looking for a long lost book and here I find an old friends graffiti written on the garage wall which makes me think back to the time when...
Oh I remember doing my Chemistry A level, I must remember to look up the pereiodic table of elements on the internet and so it goes on always having a knot of pain in my gut which makes me feel guilty that I am doing things for myself which can if unchecked spiral into depression and all because I started cleaning out that drawer.
Doing things for others keeps me okay but am I honest enough for the AA, someone tonight said I wasnt honest if I bought cheap illegally imported tobacco and sprayed my number plates with that laquer which stops speed camaras recognising my registration but I counter-argued that surely the Government is not playing the game entirely fair and being a doormat for them will just as easily make me resent them leading me to drink as will being "dishonest" and trying to avoid some of there stealth taxes.
So I come home tonight feeling like a AA outcast, someone who is not totally commited to the program and maybe I stopped drinking because I wasnt an alcoholic in the first place so I get Miss Boley and go and pray in the field, try and get tuned into my HP and find myself wondering what I am doing on a foggy night in the slight drizzle talking to the sky especially when someones torch picks me out in the haze.
Having been in this situation before I pretend to be talking to my mobile phone whist on my knees in the field, they look at me strange and walk past increasing there pace as they get a few yards away from me, Am I being honest, I should of carried on praying instead of pretending to be talking to my mobile.
No Eva, I dont think my mind is very peaceful yet, you see drink could take all this crazy thinking away but it had a cost and in the end 414 days ago I reached the point when that cost was too much to take. I know this all sounds crazy especially when I conclude that I have never felt better in my life, or could that statement just illustrate how far I had gone down that drinking black hole- almost to the event horizon itself but its not how far down you go but how hard you bounce back that counts.
I feel better now for getting all that off my chest... Thanks Cybermum!

Zippy & The Honey Monster

Zippy & The Honey Monster
Originally uploaded by michaels122.

I have been a bit absent this week from interacting with my life, my fellow workers have accused me of being in “cloud cuckoo land” especially Mini Roundabout who seems to have inherited zero delay mechanism between what he thinks and what he says.
My other sister sites notably Flintstones Park near Leeds and Teletubbieland near Barnsley also have people who are my equivalents, Kev does the “modern secretary” duties at Teletubbieland and Uncle Fester, a fellow biker for Flintstones Park.
Kev phoned me up this week in the middle of all the chaos and said he had been reading this blog and liked the bits about my new job in the lost world but felt my name for Mini roundabout is wrong, I should of called him the “Honey Monster”.
He also said The New Empire would be soon getting a new computer system to replace the aging AS400 in the name of “SAP” which has just had successful trials in Australia and is very likely on its way here, I know SAP is the rolls Royce of ERS computer systems and I would sincerely enjoy finding out what all the fuss was about but Alf said it is very unlikely to be installed in the UK for another century or so.
I am finally beginning to get familiar with a few of the regular wagon drivers but probably for the wrong reasons, one person in particular who is the son of Bruce Forcyth I really upset this week having failed to leave out his loading and delivery notes for the third time.
Well on the second occasion I did remember to leave them out but left them in the wrong place, you see some times wagon drivers if they have a long job like to come in early and get loaded before the rush hour traffic has started.
I do not start until officially 8:30 am so they have there loading notes printed the night before and when they come in they can get loaded and be off while I am still in my pit playing with my todger (as The Honey Monster likes to put it!)
When I forgot to leave Bruces Sons ticket out for the third time he was obviously upset and said he was going to phone Fred at Flintstones Park from now on so I had to immediately phone him up and use step 10 of the “twelve steps to heaven” to make a sincere unequivocal apology to him, I also apologised again when he turned up later that day for another load and he looked a bit embarrassed as I explained that most of the time with me “the lights were on but nobody was home” and if he asked me again I would immediately print out the ticket while he was on the phone.
Bruces Son did eventually forgive me and trust me enough because on Friday he handed me the following poem…
A Tale of The Wagon Driver & The Despatch Clerk:
A story tells that a despatch clerk and a wagon driver were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and the despatch clerk slapped the wagon driver in the face.
The wagon driver who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:
TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.
They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath.
The wagon driver who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the despatch clerk saved him.
After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:
TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.
The despatch clerk who had slapped and saved the wagon driver asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?"
The wagon driver replied "When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away.
But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."
LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.
But he did insist that I print his ticket out for Monday Morning and place the phone receiver next to the printer so that he could hear it for himself, trust but verify he said his motto was.
His dad Bruce himself is also a wagon driver and he is the other driver who so far I have added to my database, then there are our two Fork truck drivers who load the wagons that come in.
I also possess a Fork Lift licence from my days at Sellers when I did allsorts of dodgy antics on one, Health and Safety was a profanity in them days but I would love an opportunity to load up one of the wagons if only to prove to myself I could still do it.
Our FLT drivers are called Noah and Frank [Carson] and they work for there boss Zippy who has this week been off ill with Bird flu, he however came back on Friday but The Honey Monster said this was so that he could come in on Saturday.
Alf our assistant manager warned us all not on any account should we throw any birdseed near his desk and do not make any whistling noises, apparently another symptom of Bird Flu is ones legs begin to resemble one off an emu.
Zippy was also seen in the yard near the barns by his subordinate Frank [Carson] making clucking sounds and moving his head back and forward in jerky movements whilst simultaneously moving his arms about wildly.
The Balloon Warden our boss said we should go easy on Zippy in the coming weeks and try not to make fun of him when he lapses into these uncontrollable spells of bird consciousness.
It hasn’t made things easier for Zippy the fact that Naughty Noo Noo has been off on holiday this week and her cleaning duties were replaced by a guy resembling the bloke Basic Instinct, you know the one who that had a bomb attached to the toilet he was sitting on.
Also it has been noticed by the Balloon Warden who like Miss Marples is investigating the theft of Georges Biscuits that none have gone missing since Zippy was took ill and he has proposed that there could be two theories for this;
It is possible that someone is trying to frame poor Zippy for the theft of the biscuits and this would also explain why there was crumbs all over Zippys desk last week or that Zippy is actually the culprit.
On a lighter note though, this week we were visited by a group of sales people from somewhere down south and the cumulative blood pressure in the office escalated when it was found that the majority were ripe females of perfect mating age.
George did his best to pretend he wasn’t interested by staring at his newspaper but it was very difficult for him to hide the effect these young females were having on him.
Both The Balloon Warden and Alf was eager to show the girls round the works but obviously the Balloon Warden got his way sine he was in a slightly more senior position, he even showed a few of them the inside of the driers and the cupboard were naughty noo noo and zippy sneak off to sometimes.
The Brunet one who arrived fourth after the bloke and the lady in charge who commandeered Balloon Wardens office for a PDR and the blonde one who was also lovely really got me going.
Blimey she was gorgeous with her long flowing black hair, flawless skin, tight jeans and her mere presence was simply nauseating and I could not stop staring at her, the way she flicked her hair seemed to occur in slow motion.
I do not think my life is ever going to be the same again now and have given her the nickname Jedess Angelica.
On a sadder note it is now Saturday evening as I write this next bit and we have all returned from the Royal Infirmary, my friend who was once a loyal drinking companion is in there with a collapsed lung.
Its okay though in there you have these personal screens with radios, TV, internet, email and a telephone on them, I credited his card with a fiver and bought him a “What Car” magazine and dialled up this website to hopefully keep him entertained.
Our paths, myself and the Gangster diverged 412 days ago when I had my last drink and started on the steps to heaven.
Anyway I wish the Gangster the best of luck and a quick return to health…
“A blonde calls her boyfriend and says, "Please come over here and help me. I have a killer jigsaw puzzle, and I can't figure out how to get started. "
Her boyfriend asks, "What is it supposed to be when it's finished?"
The blonde says, "According to the picture on the box, it's a rooster."
Her boyfriend decides to go over and help with the puzzle. She lets him in and shows him where she has the puzzle spread all over the table.
He studies the pieces for a moment, then looks at the box, then turns to her and says, "First of all, no matter what we do, we're not going to be able to assemble these pieces into anything resembling a rooster."
He takes her hand and says, "Secondly, I want you to relax. Let's have a nice cup of tea, and then.....", he said with a deep sigh, "Let's put all these Corn Flakes back in the box."

Cant You Sort Each Other Out?!

Can You Sort It
Originally uploaded by michaels122.

Yes I have been reduced to the ultimate in childishness, mainly to prove a point and also to further reinforce what was discussed at today’s Dewsbury AA meeting by the notorious Catwomen.
It seems something we both have very much in common is our Alcoholic egocentric brothers and in some ways I think she is lucky in not having to live with hers and his/her parents like me.
I wish there was something I could do about it but I cant, In today’s climate despite having a full time job I cannot afford a place of my own, a few years back when I rented a rotting council house I found myself almost getting sober involuntarily due to the lack of money.
What with extortionate council tax and rent which has gone up since at more than ten times the rate of inflation and with poor old OAPs being thrown into prison I cannot think of even daring to get another place of my own except perhaps a tent in the woods.
So I guess I am stuck here, well at least most of the time I can say as little as possible but when Bon Jovi is back screaming out of his bedroom despite him having a personal stereo I just had resort to such juvenile measures as “if you cant beat em join em”
Even Luke said he agreed with my next strategy of nipping our budding DJ in the bud, so on went my 60 watt per channel sterio with Ronan Keatings “Life Is A Rollercoaster” blasting out at near ¾ volume.
Now my poor parents downstairs can turn a blind eye to Uncle Bob despite him promising not to play his music for all to hear anymore but they can ignore the bass blasting through the ceiling making the light fitting and indeed the whole ceiling resonate.
I do feel sorry for them, my mum has just gone 69 and my dad is 68 with Parkinsons Disease but have you ever tried to reason with an alcoholic who truly believes that the world owes them something?
Like I said I had just returned from the AA and on my way home had bought a pizza which I admitted reluctantly shared with my dad and my brother but the latter came down to complain while I was taking Miss Boley round the field that I should of shared some more.
Anyway when the music becomes so load my poor mum had to come up and try and sort things out, and I did feel a little embarrassed like we were squabbling adolescences.
Anyway now its problem solved but what I cant understand is why he sits in his bedroom and plays his music, the only theory I can come up with is he seeks attention and wants us all to enjoy his choice of tracks.
Well I know AA program teaches us honesty and being nice, the big book says we should not only put up with alcoholics but when twelve stepping them invite them into our home, put up with them burning mattresses and where necessary administer sedatives and accompany them to hospital, court etc.
Well I for one am no longer being a doormat as suggested and unlike my parents I am not sticking my head in the sand and pretending everything is normal, they chose it this way, they wanted him out of a place that kept him manageable.
Do you know what I find most frightening is that I can see myself in him, the way he gets up early and goes for a “walk”, but it is just an excuse to feed his addiction in some place in the middle of nowhere so he cant be “pestered”.
He then walks back just like I did to have a sleep then repeat the whole process all over again with absolutely no thought for anyone or ambition to do anything with his life.
My mum, says “Cant you sort each other out” what a question, now she will be telling all her bingo buddies and her snoopy sister Cruella (who hangs on for the next episode like some watch Eastenders) how we were both playing our music like juvenile delinquents.
Which maybe indeed we are, but the point is I just want a bit of peace after entertaining Uncle Bobs daughter, Squeaky and my son Jedi Luke all weekend while he is drinking himself stupid in woods up and down.
The thing is that the doctors have told him he should not be drinking while he is taking medication with his highly psychoactive medication for his schizophrenia and the have made that a condition of his release.
I am all for playing happy families and I know we should all try and put up with each others idiosyncrasies but I expect equal participation from everyone, not three quarters of us trying to mask the unmanageability of the fourth.
Anyway that’s my Step 10 for today, and I am not proud of it but can anyone suggest what else I can do?
Jedess Catwoman shared tonight that her parents have boycotted her holiday because she has refused to allow her alcoholic brother to come along well at least she is lucky not to have to live with one.
Still it makes me realise just what I was like and where I could be again if I fell back to the dark side of the force, at least the constant reminder does have a few merits

Shadows & Ants (Day 401)

suicide help
Originally uploaded by michaels122.

I suppose if you are sober and take the time to think there is always some simple answer to anything, my brother Uncle Bob is now happily sitting in his bedroom staring at the ceiling watching spiders running across it while swigging at his beer and listening to his favourite music on full volume.
I am sat here blissfully in quiet solitude, I have even copied him and The Shadow (I will mention more about this character later) Coldplays latest LP “X & Y”, so they can enjoy what I think was the best LP this year well until Madonna unveils her long awaited “Confessions On A Dancefloor” LP.
Yes I was going to go to the AA tonight at Brighouse but decided the problem with my brothers nocturnal discos had to be nipped in the bud so I took my mum shopping to ASDA and bought him a personal CD player.
So anyway that’s that problem sorted out, sometimes I think life was dead simple when I was a down and out in the woods with just a few meagre possessions and very little to worry about other than the fact I was slowly killing myself with rotting vegetation in a can.
Now I have loads of “stuff”, a computer, the Internet to entertain me, a PS2 plus DVD/Video, Shiitehawk my motorbike, A Nice new car, tons of DVD’s etc but a great philosopher once said its only the things you can take with you when you leave this world which are really important.
At one time I would spend nearly every night partying at peoples houses, my friend “The Gangster” and another friend I have dubbed “The Shadow” who I have completely “dissed” since I got sober.
In the AA many talk of making amends and this I have done to a degree, I have pledged that if I meet a person in my day to day business who I have wronged in the past I will assume this is a sign from my Higher Power that this is the time.
However the way others share in the AA about doing there Step Nine (making amends) is that it should be done similar to the way that Arnie Schawrtznegger in the film Terminator finds Sarah Conner, only when you find the person instead of killing them you launch into a long sincere apology.
I know my side of the street has not been cleaned with respect to the times I used to pee on The Shadows Sofa or use his house to invite all my friends for a social evening he wasn’t exactly saintly in his behaviour towards me.
Not only did he constantly pull me down to pull himself up, use me as his personal taxi service and had more faces than the town hall clock he also sneaked off with my lady Amidala and initiated the sequence of events that caused us to become living separate lives.
But it is not just for the reasons listed above or the many others that I could mention that I have failed to make amends to this guy, it’s the simple fact that when we got together the only thing we had in common was our rabid appetite for getting drunk and acting like overgrown buffoons.
I feel that even opening the door to this guy even by a small margin would lead to a uncontrollable chain of events that would certainly endanger my sobriety which is after all the most important possession I could ever possess because without it everything collapses and I very much doubt I would have another recovery in me.
To change the subject anyway what has today been like, well, I have been thinking a lot today about the analogy I started yesterday about the place where I work being compared to an ants nest.
You know each individual ant on its own is a pathetic creature with regards to intellect but has a team the word synergy has a whole new meaning, and that could also describe the members of the lost world.
If you look at an ants nest and watch an individual ant, it pokes around in a zig zag fashion seemingly aimlessly and this is certainly true of the way Alf Garnet for example wonders around the plant, or George mindlessly walks out in front of speeding forklifts causing them to brake.
Yet somehow The Lost World produces some of the best quality bricks created anywhere in the world, each one is exquisitely hand finished and individually numbered and they are guaranteed for 100 years.
But to look at the chaos that goes on in our little office one wouldn’t think that it was possible to produce such a refined end product, I mean today George was complaining bitterly about Mini Roundabout stealing his ginger biscuits.
He didn’t sneak off with just one or two but the whole bloody packet, and carefully framed Zippy by leaving Ginger biscuit crumbs all over his desk, George was also upset today that his oil hadn’t arrived yet despite repeated promises that it would be there.
Meanwhile in the corner Alf was asking me how I was able to concentrate working across from The Headmistress at my last job at The Flintstones Park, especially when she bent over, he added that it probably explains why I am so well practised at multitasking.
I haven’t really had a lot of problems with wagon drivers today in my despatch duties since there hasn’t been that many, The Balloon Warden says that we often get low points like these in the brick business and it is because a lot of people cannot afford to get on the housing ladder, myself and Zippy included.
Also a lot of new developments of renovation old mills into apartments is reducing the house building market, but us ants just keep churning the bricks out regardless.
So the end of another days posting his here, and I have the key for my meeting tomorrow and I think I will be going on Shiitehawk so I will bid you all goodnight…

Update From The Lost World

Annoying Comp6
Originally uploaded by michaels122.

The one thing I know now is all the pain I have ever suffered in my life has been what has occurred or what might occur, it wasn’t so long since I was moaning that it was boring and unchallenging where I worked.
So guess what I was made redundant I was then moaning that I would be sat around totally bored senseless listening to daytime telly with my dad who is about as cheerful as leprosy but of course these worst case scenarios rarely come to pass.
I suppose that handing your life over to some strange transcendental power has the AA suggests and living your life one day at a time although difficult certainly has its rewards.
It means that you no longer have to take any responsibility for the future, you don’t have to worry about pensions you can assume that your “Higher Power” will look after you when you are too old to look after yourself.
I seem certainly to be adopting this mind set with enthusiasm though it is very difficult at first since we seem to be brainwashed to act differently probably by the government which would cease to operate if we all took this philosophy on board.
So where am I in life, well my cat, “Starry” is well and so is my dog Miss Boley, my dad is still shuffling around and my mum continues to do her best to try and care about us all, now we have been joined by my brother after 2 ½ years in a psychiatric hospital.
So life at home is certainly mundane, nothing ever changes, its as if every occupant of our house are controlled by some clockwork machine making them repeat the same actions endlessly.
As I speak my brother Uncle Bob is sat in his little bedroom swigging away at cans of super strength and listening to Bon Jovi’s new LP titled appropriately “Have A Nice Day” while staring at the polystyrene tiles on the ceiling wondering why the world is such a cunt to him.
I however have been rejuvenated by my brief spell so far in the lost world, which certainly is real life soap; today I was being taught the finer details of the AS400’s despatch system by sunrise.
The designer of the AS400 was apparently a guy called Jonathan Edwards she told me briefly in passing I suppose to lighten the atmosphere in between the lectures, this fellow was another person who ended up in the same place where my brother has just today been released from.
Anyway Sunrise insisted that in order to manage the despatches properly the wagon drivers coming for there loads should be encouraged to fill in a simple form which contains there details and this could then be submitted to myself for processing.
Of course I dutifully obliged but the idea wasn’t so popular with the drivers, one in particular remarked that if he had to fill in any more forms and procedures to get the bricks loaded on to his wagon he might as well as drive the bloody forklift himself and do the himself.
By the end of the day I decided either to continue to insist that the drivers filled in the forms and wear my crash helmet which I used to come to work on shiitehawk (er Streethawk) or I backed down and decided to let the drivers communicate the information to me by sound which we all agreed was somewhat more efficient.
The Balloon Warden my boss did have to intervene at one point today when an angry driver complained bitterly that he just wanted a pack of bricks to build a wall but didn’t have a Sheet Number.
The Balloon Warden who confesses to have been knocked about a bit himself by sunrise’s balloons admitted today that he does sometimes get rather tired driving backwards and forwards up the M1 and has been considering approaching N-man about the possibility of some form of company aviation vehicle.
The meeting started with The Balloon Warden suggesting a helicopter or a small plane to allow him to commute the 200 miles round trip backward and forward to work however the meeting concluded with only a partial success.
N-man our group manager said he would negotiate the possibility of a hot-air balloon with a small engine or a microlite to ferry our leader over the traffic chaos of the M1.
Our office has had a small bit of reorganisation recently with me exchanging places with Zippy, I am now seated directly facing a window that greets visitors to the office and share my new area with Alf and George.
Zippy has been moved to the corner where I started my adventure which is dominated by Mini Roundabouts booming voice, though he seems to spend most of his time with Naughty Noo Noo in the storeroom as of late.
Alf who shares my part of the office is the assistant manager and also keeps the key for the toy box locked firmly in his drawer and refuses point blank to let me have access to it.
Outside our little office a lot of wildlife enjoys the sunlight and a lot of it is so tame, little bunnies with white fluffy tales happily hop about with the forklifts and has I look out of my window “The Fat controller” who is employed in the Garage is guiding a Barretts steel wagon into one of the far bays to be unloaded.
Yes my life has changed a lot in the past year and it is such a far cry from the days I would spend at my old site feeling miserable and resenting everyone.
I think now that lifting the atmosphere there was like trying to raise the titanic, now however the place is an empty shell resembling more the Mary Celeste.
So after 2 ½ years of visiting my brother Uncle Bob in hospital he is now back at my parents house selfishly playing his sh*t music for everyone to hear which is why I am sat here trying to occupy myself instead of fast asleep in the land of booboos.
Even AA’s might would not be able to turn a screw in that guys head, in his own little brain everyone is wrong and only he is right, pig ignorant as always, it takes more than 12 steps to be okay with him.
But on a happier note I can look forward tomorrow to another day with my friends in the lost world, people who genuinely understand how to work together, the lost world might sound primitive but so is a ants nest.
Each individual ant hasn’t got a clue what its doing but somehow the collective mass works together has a team under the guidance of its collective consciousness.

The Plataeu

I have just passed through the thirteen months stage with regards to abstinance from alcohol and feel I have reached a plataeu with regards to spiritual progress.
I know that complacency can set in just following the twelve months mark and I have found recentlt that my AA meetings have subsided a little.
Just turning up has become an effort and as for saying something well I seem to have kept quiet for a while now but I do listen.
Anyway its Sunday evening and I have just returned from my Dewsbury meeting had a bath in Redox salts and Savlon and I am about to relax and read the last bit of my book called "The Field" about how everything in nature is connected via a zero point field.
Streethawk is fixed again and I took Amidala and her sister for a spin over the weekend, its running beutifully but I guess it should be at £295.
At work things are ticking away nicely however I have been strategically positioned by Sunrise in the drivers reception since she seems to be continuing the job of improving my social skills where The Headmistress my old boss left off.
I have started to think that our office now resembles that BBC2 program Red Dwarf and Zippy is Rimmer, George is that square head android, who incidentally was once a scoutmaster.
The Balloon warden being quite laid back I think has a character simular to Lister, while Alf is like the computer and Roundabout must be the cat in the episode where he lost his vanity and became Dwain Dibbly.
I am just a silent observer of it all in the interactive soap.
I have also just got an excellent joke about monks emailed from my good friend Jedess Mercury and it goes...
A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws of the church by hand.
He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript. So, the new monk goes to the head abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small
error in the first copy, it would never be picked up. In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.
The head monk, says, "We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son."
So, he goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years.
Hours go by and nobody sees the old abbot. So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall, and wailing, "We forgot the "R", we forgot the "R" His
forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying
uncontrollably. The young monk asks the old abbot, "What's wrong,
father?"
With a choking voice, the old abbot replies,
"The word was "celebrate".
Anyway I just thought I would add a few words to my blog before retiring to bed and I still cannot post any pictures without writing the HTML and linking them to my old site.
I better then finish off that book see you all tommorow.