Sunday, May 22, 2011

Eat Your Own Bra

Applications are flying thick and fast; sort of. The main one would take me into direct contact with my now previous employer almost immediately, should I be so lucky to get it. But I'm getting ahead of myself - literally and metaphorically.

I was walking the dogs on Friday, barely unemployed, when I bumped into an ex-colleague from the YMCA, who is now managing a hostel for the company I left to go to the job I've just left. I told her about my redundancy and she told me that there might be a project worker's job coming up at her place; she wants a male and she'd be happy to make the right noises for me to the powers that be. Good show!

At my leaving do, modestly attended, an ex-colleague from another department of my last employer, told me about some work he could practically guarantee, working with adults in an assisted environment. Not my first choice, but certainly can be considered an iron in the fire.

An old friend who I've recently hooked up with has offered me some work as a driver's mate - which actually sounds like it might be something completely different for a while and a few quid.


The Saints played like the Barcelona of Rugby for 40 minutes on Saturday night and followed it up by playing like the Cobblers of Rugby to lose the Heineken Cup, in one of the best games of rugby I have seen in years.

it was just painful to watch though...


I might be in court on Monday. I have been asked to provide a character reference for an Asian friend of mine who is in a completely crazy situation, one which has left me in a dilemma.

Yes, I'm happy to do my thing for my friend and if the scenario he's told me is true then he should walk free from court to resume his normal family life; but if it isn't and he has done what he's been accused of then his life will be so over it won't be worth anything.

My mate got into a friendship with an Armenian who runs a small industrial launderette; they started doing some business and became friends, enjoying a game of snooker on a Monday and entertaining each other's families. Then, one day, completely out of the blue, the Armenian asks my mate for £200, except it wasn't a loan or a favour, it was essentially - you give me £200 or bad things will happen to you. My friend explained that he didn't have £200; he works hard for average pay, has a wife, baby and mortgage, plus, he couldn't understand where this demand had come from. The £200 went to £50 a week, every week and still my friend refused to entertain the demands and it seems there was no relationship between the two.

One morning, about a week later, my mate is woken up at 6.00am by four police officers, arresting him on suspicion of sexual offences against the Armenian's daughter!

He sat in front of me last week and told me the only thing that has ever happened between him and the little girl was a kiss on the cheek as she was leaving his home; the same kiss he gave her mother; yet he has been charged and must appear at Crown Court on Monday for what I believe will be pleas, statements and an adjournment.

To add insult to injury, his visa runs out on Sunday, he isn't allowed to renew it because he under police investigation. Can you imagine what must be happening in that man's head.

But, what's that expression about shit sticking regardless? What if he's lying to me? What if he's actually done something? What if the alleged 'rinsing' by the Armenian is just an elaborate lie or something he's telling me for my agreement to stand up for him? I'm pretty sure he's on the level; organised crime from the old Easter Bloc is rife and is spreading, especially in smaller towns like the one my friend lives in.

What a world?


For some reason, I've just reminded myself of a conversation I had with an ex-colleague I was having a coffee with. She was getting ready to have a breast reduction operation and had just explained to me what it entailed, and giving her much reason for amusement at the faces I was pulling at the gorier bits.
"I had tits by the time I was 10," she said, with no sign of embarrassment or self-consciousness. "By the time I was 13, I knew I was never going to have supermodels tits, my nipples were already staring at my feet!" I laughed, but felt a pang of pity for her; she was a good looking girl, quite slim considering and was self-deprecatingly refreshing. "It was good for attention from boys, but after a while, you know, you want them to look you in the eyes." She went on to explain that unlike some girls who grow into their tits, she stayed disproportionately huge. By the time she was 18, she was wearing specially made bras, with 'more underpinning than the Eiffel Tower' and was finding relationships difficult to have.
"So I decided to have them chopped off, or at least reduced to the point where I can wear a bathing costume again."

There's no real happy ending. The op reduced them but it was barely noticeable, despite having gone down about 4 sizes. She had to have a second operation and for reasons I can't remember it was going to cost her as second ops for breast reductions aren't or weren't free on the NHS. Anyhow, about a year ago, I was talking to mutual friend and she said the girl had since had a baby and along with all the usual weight loss, she lost a huge amount off her boobs; more than the operation managed. It turns out that her mother was also very heavy when she was younger, but once she had kids, she shrank down to a reasonable size and the same would probably have happened to her.

Funny what pops into your head at 1.00am in the morning when you've nothing better to do and don't feel tired.


Apart from my possible day in court, my diary for next week is bordering on crazy.

I have the man to service the boiler coming on Monday morning. A quiz on Tuesday. Visiting my mate's new flat on Wednesday. A beer on Thursday night and maybe Friday lunchtime. Oh and I have the car in for a service also on Thursday and I need to renew my insurance. Can you say 'woo' followed by a 'hoo'?

I'm sure if I'd just won the lottery I would be doing something a little more cutting edge...

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