Open Minded?

You Are 60% Open Minded

You are a very open minded person, but you're also well grounded. Tolerant and flexible, you appreciate most lifestyles and viewpoints. But you also know where you stand firm, and you can draw that line. You're open to considering every possibility - but in the end, you stand true to yourself.

How Open Minded Are You?

Something new

In the absence of anything blog worthy happening in my life (apart from another certain football match, which I won't go into) I've decided to try my hand at something other bloggers do. Despite my lack of photographic skills and my overall appearance I've decided to try my hand (although it's actually another part of my body) at this Half Naked Thursday malarky. This was taken after playing football last night, whilst in the shower, note the lovely lathering effect. So you have been warned, although your eyes may have already been drawn to such a delightful sight!

Radio

I'm not a big fan of the radio, mainly because of the stupid playlists, meaning that you hear the same tunes almost constantly. In my day (that makes me sound really old) there was repetitive playing, but today these are songs that aren't even released for another 6 weeks or so. Enough of my rant about playlists. What I was really going to blog about was a DJ we have over here called Scott Mills, on Radio1, a national radio station. He seems to specialise in creating funny, if morally dubious, radio moments. One of his longest running "gags" is the "Flirt Divert" number. Basically he suggests that if anyone is hassling you on a night out you give them this fake mobile number, which they then call, and leave messages which he then broadcasts to the nation. Some of these messages are hilarious, and it's no wonder that the recipient of their attention didn't want to give them their real number! Another one of his pranks was to ring a takeaway, place a large order, then ask them to hold while his friend added some more to the order. He would then ring another takeaway and ask them to hold for a second. Then he goes go back to the original one and ask them to repeat what he's already ordered, before connecting the two lines. So takeaway 1 starts repeating the original order, which takeaway 2 thinks is an new order. The chaos made was incredible, especially if the 2nd takeaway doesn't do the same dishes as the first, "We don't do that", "What, you ordered it?!" "No, you're ordering it!" etc etc. Last night I heard his latest venture - collecting phone numbers from toilets, you know the sort of number talking about, and then dialling the number. Last night's call went like this: "Hello I'm calling about the job" "What job?" "The one you advertised." "What job?" "I couldn't make out the first word, it was slightly smudged." "Where did you see the advert?" "In the toilets of The Ship Inn." *dialing tone* It made me laugh anyway!

I'd love one of these

Blogger wasn't playing nicely yesterday, but then I had nothing to post anyway, but my lame attempt at something wasn't published by blogger either. Natural justice maybe? I've still got nothing, but there is this :

If this were a real product it would sell phenomenal amounts.

I have no real problem with background music, but I do hate muzak, and those places that play songs re-recorded by lame musicians and singers. Fork out for the real deal, or don't bother at all.

I'm not having a great week, can you tell?

Edit: and then Blogger goes and makes me look even more foolish!

Ho Hum

It's a drab Monday morning, well, the sun is out, but it's drab where I am. We've got auditors arriving, which means having to painfully describe what we do several times, and often using single syllable words. This means that I've got nothing much to offer, apart from a headache, and I wouldn't want to share that. I'm also heading back into the arena of staff disciplinary issues. So it looks like this week is going to be a humdinger. We apologise for the interruption in normal service and will try to resume as soon as possible *cue muzak*

Addendum

Bah! Even Blogger isn't playing nicely now - if I had a ball I'd be taking it home about now.

Godzooky 3 Update

It's been 3 and a half months since he made his appearance, and things are going well so far. Mrs Zilla is taking him to baby massage, so we get lots of opportunity to compare our situation with his peers. Obviously we have an edge, with him being our third, over the first time parents, as you never know enough first time around. There's a pretty steep learning curve with children. Godzooky 3 has now started sleeping through - which is a very welcome bonus. We didn't sleep train Godzooky 1, (hell, we didn't even know what sleep training was) but he was pretty good at sleeping anyway - still is in fact. With Godzooky 2 we introduced sleep training, and it only took a couple of nights for her to settle down. So with our success we tried it even earlier with Godzooky 3 and he has taken to it like a dream. He's far happier for getting a good night's rest, and so are we. He's the only one at baby massage who is sleeping through, but then he's also taking the most amount of milk with each feed - 9oz at the moment. Consequently he's also the biggest baby there, and is not far off doubling his birth weight, he currently tips the scales at 15lbs 4oz. The target for doubling birth weight is 6 months, so he's doing pretty well. Unfortunately this does mean that he's getting too big for a lot of clothes. He's been in the 3 to 6 month size for about a month now, and there is no way they're going to fit him at 6 months. We've reached that stage now where he's becoming more aware of his surroundings and there are real responses being shown. When you get eye contact with him now, you're rewarded with a lovely gummy smile. He's also discovered the pleasure of tickling, and has quite a disturbingly deep laugh. Here he is in his currently glory, the chubby cheeked monster:

Face Painting

Godzooky 1 has been attending after school club, and his last chosen topic was face painting. Apparently, well obviously from the photos, the children paint each others faces with that week's theme. Here are the fruits of his friend's efforts: This is a ladybird, although I was worried that he had contracted some strange tropical disease at first.

The next week we stayed in the animal world (allegedly) In the words of Rolf Harris can you guess what it is yet?

Of course, you guessed it was a leopard, and not some tribute to the zombie genre of films?

The next week saw us move into a more artistic phase:

This is not a rendition of the German national flag. This is apparently entitled "Tree at sunset". I am pleased that they are exploring abstract art as part of the face painting topic.

Now a more seasonal offering:

Yes, you guessed, it's an Easter Egg. Although I took some convincing that he wasn't trying to be Baron Samedi from Live and Let Die....

A final picture, back into the animal world:

To be honest and fair, this doesn't represent a leap forward in terms of his classmates skills. This one was done by a professional, such is his fascination with face painting now.

I've made light of these results, but to be fair they were all done by 6 year olds, and the fact that they are, for the most part, recognisable is testament to their abilities.

They all really enjoyed it, and that is the crucial thing.

Jeans

I have an absolute nightmare when it comes to buying jeans. Getting a pair that fits me is impossible, or rather, getting a pair that fits everywhere is impossible. I have large thighs. Not in a girly, "Oh, my thighs are just too big" way, but in a I run too much and have large thigh muscles type way. As a consequence I am obliged to buy "loose fit" jeans, though once on me the term loses all it's meaning, and they look like shrink to fit ones. Even with the loose fit option I have to buy jeans that have a larger waist size than I actually need. So I end up with a 36" waist having to be cinched in by utilising a belt, to avoid a Coco the Clown appearance. This all means that when I can actually find a pair of jeans that fit reasonably I buy at least two pairs, on the basis that I might not find anything remotely comfortable again for some time. One of my favourite pairs has recently developed a split, well it started as a small hole, grew into a tear and is now a gaping split. Unfortunately it's in a place where I cannot wear the jeans unless I want to risk an indecent exposure charge, and the patching attempt I made just made matters worse and a tad more uncomfortable in the nether regions. You get my drift. So this weekend I set out to find a comfortable new pair. A short trawl of the multitude of shops within the Trafford Centre yielded nothing that would get over my thighs without an industrial elastic band to keep them on my waist. I'd almost given up hope when the nearby supermarket offered the option of a loose fit pair at an extremely attractive price. So I thought I'd give them a whirl, nothing ventured, nothing gained etc etc. I got them home, tried them on, and miracle of miracles they fit really well, with minimal cinching required. Result. All was well in my world of jeans. Until last night. I was answering a call of nature for the first time wearing my new jeans, and all was well, until I began to notice that the fly of my jeans is actually constructed from razor wire, and it was beginning to bite into a far too sensitive part of my anatomy. This was nowhere near a "There's Something about Mary" moment - it was not Frank and Beans, and there was no trapping or bulging, but it hurt like hell and gave me all too good an insight into what the "Mary" moment would feel like. Surely there are some Health and Safety laws surrounding the area of flies? I am now painfully aware of the risk associated with these jeans, but what will happen if I've imbibed too much alcohol and forget? A man should be able to relax in jeans, not fear the consequences of a momentary lapse of attention. Mrs Zilla showed her customary concern: "Well that's just karma, for you not having a vasectomy!" Thanks, I love you too.

Yes/No

From Fluff with thanks: This is quite tricky, if you stick to the rules, but quite revealing too I think. I guess I've done/experienced more than I thought I had! Taken a picture naked?: Yes Made out with a member of the same sex?: No Danced in front of your mirror?: Yes Told a lie?: Yes Gotten in a car with people you just met?: Yes Been in a fist fight?: Yes Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back?: Yes Been arrested?: No Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex?: Yes Seen someone die?: Yes Kissed a picture?: Yes Slept in until 3?: Yes Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?:Yes Played dress up?: Yes Fallen asleep at work?: No Had sex at work?: Yes Felt an earthquake?: Yes Touched a snake?: Yes Ran a red light?: Yes Been in a car accident?: Yes Pole danced?: No Been lost?: Yes Sang karaoke?: Yes Done something you told yourself you wouldn't?: Yes Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?: Yes Caught a snowflake on your tongue?: Yes Kissed in the rain?: Yes Sang in the shower?: Yes Got your tongue stuck to a pole?: No Sat on a roof top?: Yes Played chicken?: Yes Raised chickens?: No Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?: Yes Been told you're hot by a complete stranger?: Yes Broken a bone?: Yes Mooned/flashed someone?: Yes Forgotten someone's name?: Yes Slept naked?: Yes Blacked out from drinking?: No Played a prank on someone?: Yes Felt like killing someone?: Yes Made a parent cry?: Yes Cried over someone?: Yes Had sex more than 5 times in one day?: Yes Had/Have a dog?: No Been in a band?: No Drank 25 sodas in a day?: No Shot a gun?: Yes Rules are: 1. You can only say YES or NO! 2. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages you and asks!

Another Milestone

I only just realised that I have passed the first anniversary of my starting this blog. Frankly I'm amazed that I've managed to reach this point, I would have put money on me giving up after a couple of months. I guess it's testament to the interesting people who I've stumbled across and who have stumbled across me, that I have stuck at this thing. I've had blogger's block on quite a few occasions, but there is always some random piece on someone else's blog that sparks something in me to create some crap post or other. I should also thank the cross dressing citizens of Manchester and other colourful characters that my path crosses from time to time. But ultimately I'd like to thank the visitors I get and the bloggers whose sites I visit for enriching my life. Right, enough of the nicey nicey stuff, back to the normal drivel....

2 for the price of 1

As this is my last afternoon in work before the long Easter weekend I thought I'd add a little extra value to my entries. I'm looking forward to a nice break from the madness of the office. I hope the weather does us some favours. I am toying with the idea of attending the free concert The Passion of Manchester - where the Easter story is going to be told using the music of Manchester groups from the 1990s. However as it doesn't start until 8pm that may be a little late for the Godzookies. I hope everyone gets a good break and enjoys themselves - don't eat too much chocolate now....

Delayed from yesterday

This is the fax we received yesterday which both terrified me and made me laugh out loud:

We don't have a Laura or a Clare here, but I hope they keep having fun

It was

going to be a better post than this, but our scanner is currently having emotional issues and not playing nicely. I found a fax on our office machine this morning which literally made me laugh out loud. When the scanner has had it's therapy and is talking to us again I will hopefully post it. So instead I'm putting up this cartoon, which highlights the age we live in I guess.....

Noisy Neighbours

I forgot to blog about this yesterday. Our adjoining neighbour was clearly celebrating his birthday this weekend, I say clearly as we had a birthday card for him delivered to our house by mistake. I took it round and wished him a happy birthday, now if I was planning a party, I would have taken that opportunity to warn my neighbour. Clearly our neighbour then wasn't planning a party. Or so I thought, until 2.30am on Saturday night/Sunday morning. Suddenly the sound of loud music came blaring through the house. Having woken, and thought I was dreaming, it became clear that this was in fact a nightmare. I ventured downstairs just to check that it was our neighbour and no-on ehad actually put on my stereo downstairs. I realised from the music that it was definitely our neighbour, made all the more stark by the sound of him singing along at the top of his voice. Hearing your drunken neighbour serenade his wife with a version of Lady In Red is something no-one should have to suffer, let alone at some awful time of the day. I assumed from the state of his voice that this wouldn't be a long recital. Another wrong assumption - the "music" (if you can call Brotherhood of Man, music) lasted until 3.30am, when he either passed out, or ran out of awful songs to play. A better man than me would have smiled to himself and wished his neighbour a speedy recovery from the impending hangover. I'm not that better man. Having got up with the children at 7am I resolved to fight fire with fire. I must have accidentally knocked the volume control on my stereo at 7.30am and some how also switched it on. I do hope that I didn't wake my lovely neighbour up, but judging by the throb of bass I could feel I doubt whether he would have slept through it. Somehow "Beat Dis" by Bomb the Bass made it into the CD player and it wasn't until the third playing of it that I realised where one of the samples must have come from: the sound of an alarm clock trilling in a shrill fashion. By then the children were enjoying the sound of it in the next room, so it would have been a shame to turn it off immediately, wouldn't it?

That was a weekend?

Well, I find myself back at my desk, feeling like I was never away from it. There has been a cold bug doing the rounds of our house, and I thought I had escaped it's tendrils. I think drinking too much on Thursday night lowered my defences and the organism (yes that is organism) saw it's chance and struck. I started streaming on Friday afternoon and have suffered since. To be fair, all the rest of my household have had it in one form or another, so I was due a turn. I'm not one for moaning and retreating to bed, I think that's why I don't get so many of these things, positive thoughts keep me fairly well protected. I'm quite pleased and proud to say that I've never taken any antibiotics in my life so far, although there were one or two occasions in the past where I was wishing it was easy to get to see a doctor, but my body fought off whatever it was dealing with by itself. I wasn't best pleased yesterday though. Being the only driver in the house I was given the job of transporting Godzooky 1 to a classmate's birthday party. This was held at one of those huge kids play area things. This one appeared to have been converted from an aircraft hangar into the largest assembly of soft play equipment known to man. Two hours of constant child shrieking did my swollen sinuses and head no real favours. I was also trapped talking to another parent, who insisted on telling me everything that was wrong with her relationship and asking me whether she should leave him or give him another chance. WTF? I've just met you, know nothing of your history, am feeling like shit, like I already told you, but you are asking me what to do about your life? My annoyance really stemmed not from the small men hammering in my head, or the inane ramblings of the other parent, but from my inability to enjoy the surrounding as I would have liked to. Parents were also allowed to use the equipment, and as I already said, this was the most awesome collection of slides, climbing areas and ball pits I've ever witnessed. I did try to join in, but my internal alarm went off, warning me that I was in severe danger of puking if I carried on. Rather than be the first of the day to decorate the play area I retreated to what I thought was a safe place. Bah!

Emotional Rollercoaster

Another footbll post I'm afraid - it was the return leg of the UEFA cup quarter final last night, against FC Basel. Middlesbrough were 2-0 down from the first leg, which seemed a tall order to overturn, and I wasn't feeling very optimistic about their chances. The early stages of the game saw quite a few chances come Middlesbrough's way, but the ball wouldn't go in the net. As long as Basel didn't score things would be ok. So of course Basel scored. This made it 3-0 on aggregate, but crucially gave them an away goal. To win the game Middlesbrough would have to score 4 and not concede again - an almost impossible task. An equaliser on the night came 10 minutes later, so only 3 more to score in 60 minutes.... Half time saw the introduction of another striker, and a goal 10 minutes into the half started to give me belief that it could be done. The game was all one sided, but then all Basel had to do was not let another goal in, and they would progress in the competition. Then one of their centre halves got sent off - 11 vs 10 for the remaining 25 minutes, but still another 2 goals needed. The a wonderful strike saw Middlesbrough score another goal, 3-1 and only one more goal needed. Another striker came on the pitch, and in the very last minute he scored the fourth goal, so Middlebrough won 4-3 on aggregate and go through to the semi finals. My father introduced me to the pleasure and pain of following Middlesbrough when I was 6. The club do not have a long glorious history, in 1986 the club went bankrupt and the ground was locked. In the 20 years since the new owner has invested heavily - building a brand new ground and buying lots of world class players. 2 years ago the club won their first ever trophy, in 128 years of existence this was their pinnacle. It meant that the club entered European competition for the first time too, playing hugely famous and talented clubs. Last year Middlesbrough never even reached the Quarter Finals, now they are down to the last 4 in the competition and face a Rumanian team in the semi final. My dad died 13 years ago, and Middlesbrough were still struggling in the lower leagues. He missed out on seeing the new stadium, the cup win and the current European adventures. I wish he was still here to share the excitement that I currently feel

You do the Maths

busy day, with not much time to post, but: Relationship mathematics Smart man + Smart Woman = Romance Smart man + Dumb woman = Affair Dumb man + Smart woman = Marriage Dumb man + Dumb woman = Pregnancy Work Mathematics Smart boss + Smart worker = Profit Smart boss + Dumb worker = Production Dumb boss + Smart worker = Promotion Dumb boss + Dumb worker = Liquidation Shopping Mathematics A man will pay £20 for a £10 item he needs. A woman will pay £10 for a £20 item she doesn’t need.

Things you don't see every day

I’ve seen the same person on the way to work for the last three mornings. Nothing particularly unusual about that, people have routines and it’s almost inevitable that sometimes yours will coincide with someone else’s. This person has made themselves standout despite the early hour and cut through the fog of my usual walk to the tram. Ordinarily my mind will be on other things and I’m not really that aware of the people I pass. Monday morning, the first time I saw this person, I noticed them straight away. They cut right through the half awake state I was in. I thought the woman approaching me was incredibly drunk, she was all over the pavement and I was starting to wonder if I’d be able to pass her without some sort of collision. She wasn’t dressed like she’d been on a night out and was just returning home, but she was clearly unable to walk without weaving all over the place. As she got closer it became clearer that this wasn’t some young girl, but someone definitely older. The clothes weren’t fashionable, more conservative in style and she was wearing what looked like a home knitted scarf and hat. A very weird ensemble to be wearing considering the state she appeared to be in. As I drew close to her it became all too apparent what the cause of the problem was. This wasn’t a woman, but quite clearly a man. He was teetering along the pavement because of the high heeled boots he was wearing, which he was clearly unused to. I hadn’t spotted a manly gait, because there was no discernable pattern to the walk, he was just trying to stay upright, and just about succeeding. It reminded me of a newborn foal, or that scene in Bambi where he tries to walk for the first time. I was so surprised at the sight that I manage to avoid smirking or worse, and thought no more of it, each to their own and all that. Yesterday morning I saw him/her again – the erratic movement on the pavement caught my attention again. I had more time to reflect on the apparition this time. It was clearly a middle aged gentleman, about 5’ 7” tall, so not unfeasibly large to pull off being a woman, but the walking in heels was something he clearly hadn’t mastered yet. As he got closer I noticed that he’d gone for some make up today too. There was a lot of blusher and eye shadow, but it didn’t appear to have been applied with much finesse. I realised that the hat was there to try and cover most of the straggly, black, long haired wig he was wearing. This morning I saw him again, still wearing the same outfit from the previous two days, still struggling to walk without tearing all the ligaments in his ankles. Today the scarf was obscuring most of his face, (which wasn’t aiding his mobility) and I could see why when I got close. Today he’d had no time for make up, or even a shave, and the scarf was designed to obscure his stubble. Clearly this guy is endeavouring to learn how to dress and act like a woman, but he should have mastered heels before leaving home. I have so many questions buzzing round my mind : what do his neighbours think? Or is that why he goes out so early, to avoid them seeing? Has he spoken to anybody about his interests? Where did he get those boots from? Why didn’t the shop assistant selling him them advise something a little flatter? Doe he think that wig looks life like? Living in a city brings a lot of diversity into your life!

Stammering

I saw an interesting programme last night, all about it. It featured lots of young people who were cursed by stammering. These were all youngsters who should be having fun and mixing with their peers freely. One young girl had been denied treatment on the NHS as her problem was diagnosed as not being severe enough. Therefore she was stuck on waiting list to see a speech therapist, while her stammer worsened. She was particularly concerned because she was due to start high school and knew that the bullying that accompanies stammering would get worse. It touched me tremendously, because I suffered quite badly, and still can struggle at times. I was born tongue tied, where a flap of skin holds your tongue in place and prevents it moving freely. As a baby I struggled to feed properly, and it wasn't until the flap of skin was cut that I was able to use my tongue normally. This had a knock on effect when it came to my speech development, and I developed a stammer. My stammer was not a severe one, but the effect can be crippling. As a child I would struggle to form the start of a sentence, but once I got going I would be fine. I've always had a sharp mind, and would often have something funny to say, but, by the time you've got it out with a stammer, the moment is often lost. I went to speech therapy and was told about breathing control, which certainly helped me, as it did some of the children featured in the programme. Similarly to them I always hated someone trying to finish my sentences for me, but it seems to be human nature to try and help someone out who appears to be in difficulty I guess. I can still suffer today, although not many people have noticed my stammer. I tend to struggle where I'm in a queue and rehearsing what I'm going to say when it's my turn. Even a simple request can turn into an horrendous experience. Quite often prefacing what I want to say with an "Er," can get me over the hurdle of starting a sentence. The programme took me back to my youth though and the feelings of frustration and embarassment that overwhelm you when you are literally stuck for words.

Chavopoly

The Weekend

saw Grandma Zilla making a flying visit - she arrives by coach anytime from 10am to (in this weekend's case) 11.50am. We inevitably try to cram quite a lot in during the time before her coach leaves again at 6pm. We managed to fit in a trip to Rusholme, to visit the Curry Mile, as it's known locally. We've introduced all our children to the delights of Indian cuisine from an early age. Godzooky 1 is now a past master at ordering exactly what he likes, and Godzooky 2 makes a good fist of eating anything that you put in front of her. It must be the colours that attract her like a moth to a flame! The only problem is that the exciting colours also make for horrendous stains to try and get out of clothes! Grandma Zilla always enjoys her visits to the big city and ends up buying all manner of items which we then transport up on our next visit. Yesterday I took Godzooky 1 to another football match, and he proved yet again to be a lucky charm, with another victory witnessed. He's becoming more and more vocal with each game we attend, and he's become quite knowledgable after watching more games on tv. His attention span is definitely improving. The only down side was the soaking that we got on the way to the game, but the game and result more than made up for that. Godzooky 3 is getting more and more of his own character, and thankfully he is starting to sleep through more often. Which is good news all round, less disturbance and more opportunity for "quality" time.....