No sense of humour allowed in this workplace

In Cricketing Heaven (Devon)...

As I wearily finished up a week-long and rather complex session on [insert complex insurance concept here], my mind wandered to the coming weekend – the sites, sounds and smells of leather on wood await! 30 minutes to go.

I droned on, my clients struggling to stay conscious as their mind wandered to their own version of the perfect and now rapidly approaching weekend. 15 minutes to go.

As I wrapped up, the obligatory thank yous’ and handshakes were gratefully interrupted by the horn of the waiting taxi.

“Well that’s me, best of luck!”

“Thanks”

“Don’t worry, you won’t need it”

*cordial polite laughs*

The train grumbled out of Bristol parkway station, the aisles brimming with passengers like me unable to find a seat on the overcrowded train. Yet spirits were high, conversations jovial, it was the weekend! It wasn’t just any old weekend; in fact I was on my way to Exeter, to me an unheard of town on the south coast of England for my cricket club’s end of season tour.

Blessed with fantastic weather on the Saturday we trounced an under-strength Axminster Town CC, and in the gloom of the Sunday we bulldozed our way to victory over the hapless Farley CC.

As we downed our celebratory beers in the van back to London, our labours were amplified, and our journey grew epic, we had vanquished our enemies and returned home triumphant.

All photos can be found here:

Life sux... Get over it...

It's been a crap fortnight or so.

1. Lost significant other
2. Complications with ex landlord
3. Chased by muggers in Brixton
4. Seychelles trip cancelled
5. Homeless
6. Fractured a bone

I thought things were supposed to come in threes, not groups of threes...

<*Update*>

7. Found out parents have separated, It just doesn't end...

/<*Update*>

The end of the golden weather?

With cricket season coming to a close my thoughts navigate towards the impending winter and reflect on the summer that never really was. Thanks England, thanks a whole f*ckin lot.

Like all dark tales of tragedy and despair, this summer has but one bright light, one golden glow at the end of the tunnel, indeed one last tiny sparkle. Ladies and Gentleman may I present *drum roll please* The cricket tour to the Seychelles! *insert trumpets here*.

28th September 16.00 hrs GMT: Ben mutters under his breath words to the effect of "So long suckers!" to his beleaguered work colleagues.

28th September 21.05 hrs GMT: Ben scowls in the general direction of London as the plane takes off bound for fairer shores.

29th September 10.15 hrs GMT+4: Exiting the plane, basking in glorious sunshine, Ben sets about developing his taste for the local beer.

The end of the golden weather? No, this is just the beginning.

Ben (1) Diabetes (nil)

After a recent panic caused by a week long insatiable thirst I have decided that I am not in fact diabetic, just extra thirsty. Its probably the overload of air conditioning that I can't live with or without as things finally warm up over here in crazy town.

When I say warm up, I really mean its a bit warmer than it was in the winter. Most days of course I work so its not a problem, however considering my recent successful foray in to a cricket club, the weather has become that incy wincy bit more important, at least on the weekends. As Thursday rolls around I can't help browsing the BBC website for weather predictions for the coming weekend. I don't know why I bother, this is gloomy England after all.

So in search of better cricket playing weather, the bold decision has been made to sucker up to people with money to fund an all expenses paid trip to the Seychelles, for get this... cricket!! In case you don't realise the Seychelles are those little tiny islands somewhere off the coast of east Africa and the national Seychellean cricket team is apparently in need of opposition! I know I'm up for the job, but we'll have to wait and see how it all pans out.

Meanwhile back in the real world, work, office life, the daily grind, another day another dollar etc. etc. Work on the whole is going pretty well, the supply of free soft drinks in the staff fridge never appears to dwindle, there is always enough bar tab for a third pint at Friday drinks, and now there is almost enough people in the company to necessitate birthday cake every day for everyone. Everthing else that doesn't fit in to the soft drinks, beer, and cake category can be neatly summed up by Dilbert cartoons so there really isn't much else to say.

I hope you are all well, please send food parcels I'm desperate for some L&P, 2 minute noodles, and anything Watties.


Cheerio

The hot girl from work...

The weather has been rather cold and miserable lately, so it was with a nice surprise that I sat down on the loo at work in the morning, paper in hand, to discover that the seat was pleasantly warm. It was only near the end of my turgid visit that I pondered who it was that took the time to part with their hard earned body heat to increase my comfort? I smiled as I imagined the taut bottom of the hot girl from upstairs...

As I dried my hands meticulously using the fancy yet ecologically unsound paper towels, three things sprung to mind; this is a toilet, and a male toilet at that, AND I passed the office fat-guy on the way in... Watching the mirror curiously, I saw a young man's smile fade...

I hope all is well in Hammersmith...

...said a friend of mine

My life is like playing poker and always getting the "Ace Of Spades". Drinking alcohol, trying to "Stay Clean" in the "Metropolis" that is "The Hammer". Fell off but got back up on the "Iron Horse / Born To Lose". Living in a middle class area but I got "No Class" because I don't wannabe "Overkill". Fortunately "(We Are) The Road Crew" are cool though one is a "Capricorn". Paranoid like everyone about tube suicide "Bomber"[s]. Just wish I could go to the Apollo for "Motorhead (live)"...

It's my country's party and I'll drink if I want to...

In a fantastic return to form, I've started drinking heavily again and the world has become a better place.

So begins the famous Waitangi day circle line pub crawl. It was a mission to end all missions and it would be undertaken by approximately nine thousand cold and home sick expatriate Kiwis, and I was one of them.

I arrived among throngs of silver fern clad Kiwis at Paddington tube station to the sight of the Kiwi, the sound of the Maori strum, the taste and smell of beer, and the feel of fellow Kiwi's up close and personal in the cramped but festive circle line tube. Simply put, All five senses were buzzing.

Due to thebeereffect motor control steadily declined among us all and the "no sitting and no holding on while riding the tube" rule became steadily more fun. Akin to the concept of antipodean dating, i.e excessive beer equals chatting up which in turn equals score; add a moving train to the mix and everyone has ample excuse for the odd tender caress.

The circle line tube, notorious for its unreliability, subsequently shut down. Fortunately yet uncharacteristically for the UK, the weather matched our sunny dispostion. As we merrily wandered along in the sunshine through a rather affluent area of London, the locals looked on confused as to why thousands upon thousands of singing silver fern-clad revellers wandered through their usually quiet streets.



[English accent] "Erm you're all off to a sporting event are ya?"

"uh yeah"

[English accent] "oh who's playing"

"um we all are"

[English accent] "eh?"

Ahh the English, don't they know that a pub crawl IS a sporting event?

As the Big Ben clock struck 4pm the Haka shook the halls of Westminster and the Kiwis dispersed back to their usual hang outs in and around west London.

Quite a day really... here is what I was up to last year and here are some photos.

It's kinda cold over here...

So here is the view from my bedroom window of the light dusting of snow we received...



Also here is some views from inside the house:

Some more photos taken in Jan can be found here:

Working is like... so uncool man...

Void of positivity and enthusiasm lately, I decided to do some cliched soul searching. After going in to a zen like trance for what seemed like seconds I was able to extract myself from the lotus position and make lunch. While dipping my toast in to a particularly spicy bowl of vegetable soup possibly cooked by Chef from South Park; I found myself on a chilli induced "time travelling" dream sequence with a kind of "Ghost of Christmas past character". This character gave me the impression that I was conversing with the naked Indian and Jim Morrison from Wayne's World and for some reason there was a touch of the Grim Reaper from the 'Bill and Ted' movies thrown in to the mix

After wandering aimlessly over sand dunes for what seemed like seconds, I came across a water cooler and drank deeply. From behind me a voice told me that usually the answers I seek could easily be found by looking within myself and examining the root causes of my lack of enthusiasm and positivity using a series of Hollywood produced dream sequences. Only problem was that the voice was really busy lately with double bass lessons.

The voice paused for what seemed like seconds allowing me to ponder how a mere voice could play the double bass without fingers, before I could come to a conclusion the voice simply said, "If you book them, they will come." I explained that this didn't really didn't help my situation so I asked the voice to clarify "God damn woman, I'll stop bein' all cryptic an' shit and tell you the god damn answer, didn't I just give you sweet lovin' five minutes ago?"

Confused, I continued to listen, and then in a loud and serious tone the following words of wisdom were issued from the lip less voice "If you quit your job, you will be happy". Genius!

I woke up lighted by the kindly glow of my old friend patiently and gently force feeding me pop culture full of characters and tag lines stronger and more poignant than anything the "real world" ever gave me. Pausing for what seemed like seconds, I hugged the TV.

So after a rather hectic, stressful, and ultimately depressing two and a half months in a job I didn't really like, I decided to cut my losses and re-join the hordes of anti-establishment TV-hugging hippies. My only complaint was that I didn't get to play twister with my movie-like dream sequence guy... but I guess that only happens in the movies.

Screw the stiff upper lip...

Its pessimism that will get you a long way in London...

I arrived in London, it was raining, my holiday was over and like an incontinent relative my bank account was experiencing serious leakage at a surprising rate. I needed money and I needed it fast.

I didn’t immediately discount selling my soul and or body until I realised that from the customers perspective, they would be getting what they payed for and I as far as I was concerned the only part of me for sale was my toe nails. After extensive market research the best price I could get was a pat on the back and a concerned look thrown in for free, they didn’t even want the toe nails.

As the toe nail business just wasn’t working out I decided that it was time to dust off the old CV and eminently adaptable cover letter or as I like to think of them “those trusty, ingenious, well constructed, adeptly presented, half truths on three bits of A4”. In my opinion CV’s are simply a whimsical art form, they have no realistic reflection on a persons skill, experience or ultimately what they are like to employ.

Either way, armed with my incredible and whimsical piece of art I was unstoppable and the phone was ringing off the hook. I had job interviews galore. I prefer to liken a job interview to a first date. Both parties make ego-centric conversation about themselves before deciding if they want to jump in to bed with each other but in this case there is no food and wine to occupy yourself during the awkward silences.

Within a week I had started working for “the man” and had ended up selling my body and soul after all, of course that depends on if you consider the soul anatomical or intangible which is a whole other conversation that I as an agnostic don’t want to get in to with the caped crusaders. Yes you, you know who you are you lewd naughty dirty devout belief in the absolute little so and so’s. Oh sorry did I question the validity of something you hold dear and make you feel guilty? I feel like masturbation, in the noun and verb senses of the word, oh my god quick hand me The Cloth.

I think I’m going to... sooo get fucked by Catholicism for that.

Gettin bark ta beer-sics…

Had a few beers in Maida Vale with Mike, Sylvie, Sion and Jane, Sion as it turned out had a few too many, it seems Jane will never live it down.. Poor Sion, all he needs is a good cuddle.

So after a semi-big night out I set off quite hung over towards London Euston station to catch a train to Birmingham. The train is one of those fancy new fangled devices that leans in to the corners, and as a bonus I eventually saw some actual grass, it was green too.

For those that don’t know, Birmingham is the ugliest city in the world, it’s so backward the only colour that has reached this so-called modern world is brown, though to their credit it’s obvious that they have splashed out on the odd different hue of brown. Fortunately as it turns out Andy lives about an hour away from it in Lichfield which turns out to be a nicer area and the houses aren’t all joined together which is a nice change from the rest of England.

So the guys sit down to watch some football or soccer, I take my leave and have a snooze, football as it turns out IS good for something. We start BBQing and drinking the second shittiest beer after Lion Red in the world, yes that’s right Fosters.

Games of football and touch rugby follow, playing rugby and passing backwards turns out to be too much of a mind job for Harv who insists on running over the touch line and expecting people to pass him the ball.

A guy turns up dressed as a punk rocker and I think ‘eh what the hell, this is England after all’ until he says “how come no one else dressed up too?” Turns out that the English have practical jokes too.

Oh yeah there was an Irish guy too.

I was beginning to wonder if Andy had any female friends at all when some eventually turn up though clearly not enough to go around, jokes about going to France to see the Eiffel tower ensue.

We toast marshmallows on the BBQ and rip in to the spirits eventually settling down to bed Andy’s sister, I mean settling down in Andy’s sisters bed – ahh semantics - for a well earned sleep about 3am.

The journey back to London is rather uneventful though it is notable for a win to Sion over Jane at chess. Gratuitous fist pumping resulted.

Well I’m off to Poland tonight and I’m frantically trying to simultaneously learn Polish and read everything there is to know about Poland as I currently know nothing except what there is to know concerning WW2. At this stage pretty sure that mentioning the war or fraternising with Germans and Russians is not a good thing… will keep you updated.

Over and out…

Check out all the photos here:

In and out of the English gloom.

Its time I gave people a proper run down of the London experience from
the beginning so here it is.

After a long flight I get in about 7.30pm GMT. Seeing Sion and his
newly shaven (balding) head is a sight for sore eyes, he's come to
pick me up, what a dude! Jane, Andy, Sion and I proceed to Waterloo –
yes THAT Waterloo - station for a few alcoholic beverages and a catch
up, I tell all about Singapore and the others tell me all about what
they've been up to in the year since I saw them all back in good 'ole
NZ.

At this point I've been awake for about 23 hours with four beers in me
I'm feeling a little tired, i.e. having trouble functioning. Waterloo,
Waterloo couldn't walk if I wanted to… We stumble home to Sion's at
about 1am.

As I wake the next morning I find myself in a room with a Corr's CD in
it, Sion man, we have to talk. The weather is typically English, i.e.
gloomy. Sion shows me around nearby Wimbledon but there's nothing much
to see.

The next day I'm a little less jetlagged so Sion plays tour guide and
we go to the Science museum, which is awesome! Sion and I spend hours
and hours in there doing puzzles and picking locks and learning stuff.
Learning turns out to be kinda hard work and it tends to make one
hungry, cue Sion – "I've heard about this famous Pie and mash shop in
Greenwich".

The pie turns out to be… well… lets just say that the English were
never known for their cuisine.

The pie has proven good for one thing however, it has brought us to
Greenwich and Greenwich is home to the Maritime museum and GMT date
line. Highlights include a Harrier jump jet and Sion full of pride
says "Some insignificant countries don't have such modern technology…"
my reply is "Where's the empire Sion, where's the empire? I guess not
even a jet that can take off vertically allowed the English to retain
their precious empire."

The actual date line - yes there is a line on the ground - is pretty
cool, jumping left and right while chanting "I'm on the east side, I'm
on the west side" confuses the Japanese tourists but makes me feel
like I'm doing something significant. The observatory and
time/watch/clock exhibits are pretty cool too.

The next morning Sion ad I embark on another big day. First stop
Leicester Square where I snap a pic of Charlie Chapman, the statue.

Piccadilly Circus… what a shitty circus.

Trafalgar Square where Lord Nelson is currently under refurbishment
and the mermaids are interestingly nip-less. Must write to the queen
about that one. Wait a minute there she is! We see her majesty drive
past looking lovely in yellow if you care about that sort of thing. I
play it cool thinking that its quite common to see the queen until
Sion admits that "Today Ben, we're on a par, its my first time too".

This inspires us to go and see if the old bird is up for tea and
biscuits with a couple of hansom young men like ourselves. However
security with automatic weapons and bushy hats say "NO" without us
even asking.

Sion went back to Guildford for a day or two so it was time to wrestle
all by my lonesome with the very arteries of London itself, i.e. The
London Underground, or more simply the Tube.

I saw London Bridge, which didn't fall down, and the Tower Bridge,
which was indeed towering. The Tower of London was less so, but
interestingly there is a legend that if the Crows leave the Tower then
London will fall, this is taken so seriously that all the poor birds
wings are actually clipped… Meaning that to take London all I needed
was a BB gun.

The Tate Modern museum was very enjoyable, I enjoyed the Lichenstein
cartoons and the 'Constructing USSR' exhibits, I could've spent days
in there.

St Paul's cathedral was big, beautiful but catholic. I tried to drum
up support for a 'Catholicism Wow' campaign that had more appeal to
the masses ya know… But everyone there was French and refused to
understand my concept of a 'Buddy Jesus'.

The National Gallery was the highlight of the day; I spent hours there
and got kicked out at closing. But not before seeing Scarlet Johansen.

The next evening I met up with Stu at a town hilariously named
Shepherds Bush. We had a few drinks at the local Aussie/Kiwi bar
called 'Walkabout' we met up with some friendly and un-annoying
Aussies. We got pissed and went to a bar called Puzzle where we
proceeded to play a game of giant Jenga… it was awesome, there was
people snorting cocaine in the toilets too… which was… hardcore.

Speaking of cocaine I met up with Katy from school the next evening,
welcome to the London drug culture, thanks for the warning.

Needing a scare on a gloomy bank holiday Jane, Sion and I visited the
London Dungeons. I thought it was kinda lame and not worth the money
or the queue but Jane screamed like a little girl, which was
entertaining.

My last night at Sion's so I cooked dinner and got a bottle of wine to
say thanks for putting me up on the cheap. Tonight I'm sleeping at
Mike and Silvies place until I get to Birmingham to see off Andy then
Warsaw Poland on the 6th of June.

--
http://thebeereffect.blogspot.com/

England: its the same, but different...

Well England is one big place, I think I've finally worked out the Tube system after 2-3 days... NOT.

I've seen the major sites, including the actual Queen herself... the photo isn't great as some womans shapely bottom got in the way, but you can tell its the Queen's car because of the flag on the top of the car, check it out here: Sion and I are now on a par as its his first time that he's seen the Queen in the flesh too. She was wearing yellow in case anyone was interested.

Have seen lots of crime in London, one crime per day so far - its very exciting, much like Singapore death is waiting around every corner.

Am hoping to head up to Birmingham to see off Andy as he's coming back to NZ soon but we'll see.

At the stage of booking a flight to Warsaw to see if the Polish have death waiting around every corner also.

Anyway, the touristy sites are pretty self explanatory so you can just look at the photos here:

Cheerio...

The birth of our wonderful nation...

"Waitangi Day commemorates the signing of a treaty at Waitangi on 6 February 1840 by a group of Maori chiefs and the British Government, represented by Lieutenant-Governor Hobson. The question of what obligations the Treaty of Waitangi placed on each side has been a subject of contention ever since".

"A private member's bill on a New Zealand Day had been introduced by Matiu Rata in 1971 and, during debate on the new bill, Rata, now Minister of Maori Affairs, indicated the government's intentions: The day, he said, was to be neither 'a symbolic nor religious occasion' but a day for each New Zealander to enjoy as they saw fit." - more here.

So how did you celebrate? Guy and I had an adventure and travelled to Porirua (or P-Town - as Guy refers to it) and played a round of pirate themed mini golf. Awesome. Incidentally Guy narrowly lost by one shot. But Waitangi day was... well... the real winner on the day. The sun was shining, the people were smiling and the 14th Festival of the Elements at Te Rauparaha Park featuring art, crafts, song and dance was on. The treaty bus was there too, it was full of knowledgeable signs and as you all know I have a certain fondness for reading such signs, pity there was no where for a "good sit" to contemplate the knowledge I had just gained.

We visited "The Realm Haitaitai" - surely you've heard the annoying jingle. We then had a few more beers in town. It was the perfect way to enjoy the day as it was originally intended - "as [we] saw fit".