Got one of those really fucking stupid emails yesterday:

See below plus my response.

Order Now - Brutal Fruit!!
Hi Every One
As part of a joint advertising campaign the kind people at SAB (in conjunction with Carst) are offering you 12 cases of your favorite SAB beverage!All you have to do is forward this email to 10 friends and CC < > natalier@carst.co.za and it will be logged.A member of the Carst team will contact you within a week to organise delivery of the beverage of your choice!Please note that staff member's of Carst and SAB cannot apply for this offer.Please note, this is not another of the usual emails regarding free offers, this one really works! SAB wish to reward SA citizens for their continued supportfor South African Breweries.Mr Kevin Carst MD Carst EnterprisesSA

Response:

This is the same sort of shit that people send saying that Verve Clicquot will send you ten cases of their best champagne, not likely as one bottle is worth more then the Zimbabwean national budget, what could they possible gain from sending us precious little Africans 10 cases?

Anyways I spoke to the Brand manager of brutal fruit and they know nothing about this. Dodgy companies, with no clue on how to effectively run any form of authentic marketing campaigns do this to build their databases.

Be warned of this or you will be receiving tons of mails everyday on how to increase your penis size or some character that works in a bank that wants to deposit 100 million dollars into your account, trust me I get this on a daily basis after a friend copied me in on a mail to win an overseas holiday.

I have been sent this by three mates and replied to everyone they sent it to, see the numbers? perhaps there is method in their madness…

Anotherwhiteboy

Hangover Ratings

1 star hangover

No pain. No real feeling of illness. You slept in your own bed and when you woke up there were no traffic cones in there with you.
You are still able to function relatively well on the energy stored up from all those vodka and Red Bulls. However, you can drink 10 bottles of water and still feel as parched as the Sahara. Even vegetarians are craving a Cheeseburger and a bag of fries.

2 star hangover

No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a stapler.
The coffee you hug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast.
Although you have a nice demeanour about the office, you are costing your employer valuable money because all you really can handle is some light filing, followed by aimlessly surfing the net and writing junk e-mails.

3 star hangover

Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space cadet and not so productive. Anytime a girl or lad walks by you gag because the perfume/aftershave reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer kicked you out at 1:45 am. Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen doughnuts and a litre of coke watching daytime TV. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls and a litre of diet coke yet you haven't peed once.

4 star hangover

You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too quickly or else you might spew.Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but you smell of socks, and you can't hide the fact that you (depending on your gender) either missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, or, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the dodgems. Your teeth have their own individual sweaters. Your eyes look like one big vein and your hairstyle makes you look like a reject from a second-grade class circa 1976. You would give a weeks pay for one of the following - home time, a doughnut and somewhere to be alone, or a Time Machine so you could go back and NOT have gone out the night before. You scare small children in the street just by walking past them.

5 star hangover

You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits next to you. Vodka vapour is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you. You'd cry but that would take the last drop of moisture left in your body. Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your dog just died because you look so pathetic. You should have called in sick because, let's face it, all you can manage to do is breathe... very gently.

6 star hangover

You arrive home and climb into bed. Sleep comes instantly; as you were fighting it all the way home in the taxi. You get about 2 hours sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up. You notice that your bed has been cleared for take off and is flying relentlessly around the room. No matter what you do you know, you're going to chuck. You stumble out of bed and now find that your room is in a yacht under full sail. After walking along the skirting boards on alternating walls knocking off all the pictures, you find the toilet. If you are lucky you will remember to lift the lid before you spontaneously explode and wake the whole house up with your impersonation of walrus mating calls. You sit there on the floor in your undies, cuddling the only friend in the world you have left (the toilet), randomly continuing to make the walrus noises, spitting, and farting. Help usually comes at this stage, even if it is short lived.
Tears stream down your face and your abdomen hurts. Help now turns into abuse and he/she usually goes back to bed leaving you there in the dark. With your stomach totally empty, your spontaneous eruptions have died back to 15-minute intervals, but your body won't relent. You are convinced that you are starting to turn yourself inside out and swear that you saw your tonsils shoot out of your mouth on the last occasion. It is now dawn and you pass your disgusted partner getting up for the day as you try to climb into bed. She/he abuses you again for trying to get into bed with lumpy bits of dried vomit in your hair. You reluctantly accept their advice and have a shower in exchange for them driving you to the hospital. Work is simply not an option. The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might make you sick again, like moving. You vow never to touch a drop again and who knows for the next two or three hours at least you might even succeed.

OK, now hands up all those who have never had a six star hangover!! Thought so!!

I have decided that I am going to treat myself and buy my own Valentines/ Easter/Birthday/Christmas/Saint Paddy’s … day gift.

And yesterday I went and traded my car in and bought a BMW 330ci convertible. I am chuffed.

I haven’t told my mates yet as the finance has not yet been approved, but they guy from the bank called me a bit earlier and said that he doubts there will be any problems as my credit history is pretty good.

I never thought that I would be a BMW driver as I normally regard them as pretentious wankers – but after taking it for a test drive I really cannot dispute the fact that they are fucking magic cars.

Every year I say that I am not going to follow Valentines day, as you should tell the person that you are with that you love them on a daily basis… and that it’s a huge marketing gimmick initiated by the large corporations to coax you into buying flowers at 4 x their normal price, along with a whole bunch of other crap. I do however end up rushing around organising something romantic at the 11th hour.

Tonight will be no exception.

I hope that you have a fantastic Valentines day!

Well being back at Varsity is great. I really enjoyed the lecture.

Stayed at home on Friday and watched a few dvd’s. The Hofs parents were up from Natal so he had a little get together at his place on sat. Needless to say there were copious amounts of scotch and as always brilliant discussions. We spent most of the night discussing how two white boys will succeed in negotiating labola on behalf of our friend Goms. I think that I promised to be able to speak fluently in zulu prior to us having to take this task on.

I can’t see why we are getting so excited about it … he hasn’t even met the girl that he wants to marry. I do however think that it will be a major cultural experience – even if we are only there as moral support.

I decided yesterday to take Morgan for a picnic at Roodeplaat dam… the outcome don’t bother. God knows what possessed me to drive halfway across Gauteng to sit in a shitty caravan park on the banks of the river and have a picnic. We might as well have gone to Emmerentia.

It was an experience though – One couple was getting married. Honestly, all their mates were there, fishing rods and all. The brandy and coke was flowing and some dude was playing the wedding march out of his car system. I kid you not – I totally believe that some members of SA society could compete with the yanky Jerry Springer folk.

Even Morgan pointed at them and although he can’t talk yet, the look on his face said it all.

I slept like crap last night –
2am wake up call – A weird sound coming from outside, like somebody sawing something
3.15 am – Next door neighbours dogs
3.45 am – Other next door neighbour’s dogs
4.20 am – Morgan climbing into bed with me ( was quite impressed he usually tries this stint at around 2)
5.00 am – Noisy next door neighbour on his way for a run – telling his running partner at the top of his voice about his weekend.
5:45 am – Alarm goes off – No more sleeping gotta get off to Tai Chi.

Tonight I am going to get pissed and sleep like a log.

Massive smiles this morning as the King of Poker arose, being horribly down in the last quarter of the game I managed to make a massive comeback -- winning back all the money I put in (the grand total of fifty south african rondt) and claiming another 45 to emerge as the king of the table.

Lovely !

As for my poker face it naturally became easier the more scotch I drank. There is something in taking your mates money that gives one such satisfaction !

Doctor Phil having only managed to take away a grand total of R5.30 then challenged me to a game of fooz ball (sp?) -- where he kicked my arse rather severely. Thank fuck we weren't playing for my winnings.

I really did enjoy myself though -- where else can one go with R50 bucks -- for the evening ?

My first lecture of this course I am doing begins tomorrow ... I am a bit nervous seeing as I haven't opened a book for the last few years. Seeing as I am paying for this myself I totally intend on finishing the first time round.

But I do think that I am slightly more mature now, and the temptations of rag, wyntyn, the pretty 1st years from some god forsaken town that ends with fontein who are just waiting to be corrupted, have been removed ... it should be a breeze.

Have a magic weekend.
anotherwhiteboy

P.S I forgot to inform you 'the hof' and his significant other are no longer. So any single ladies looking to meet a fucking decent bloke let me know. I can assure you won't be disappointed.

The day has finally arrived where our 1st Poker evening of 2007 is about to begin. Our fairer counterparts have the joys of book clubs, wine clubs, movie clubs --- actually anything that provides a supposed intellectual gathering whereby the true intention is drinking, chatting, gossiping and bitching. So why shouldn't we?

Welcome our monthly get together with the lads, scotch, beers and perhaps the chance of relishing in the fact that beat you mates and took all their dough.

Seeing that I haven't played poker in a while and the rules have deserted me I decided to do a bit of poker 101 namely, Poker champs on dstv and the trusty web. I feel far more secure in the fact that its a game of deceit and bull shit -- haha something a true Gauteng'er has mastered ... if he is still alive !

Hopefully tomorrow I would be entering my blog with a large hangover and a sack full of my winnings !!!

Will keep you informed ...

I have decided that since it's my birthday I would treat my blog with an update.

Essence of birthdays is drinking large amounts of whatever you can get your hands on. In my case I made 20 liters of Capahrina, it went down like a hooker on Oxford and needless to say my birthday party turned into a debachourious event.

The theme was Golfing Pro's and Tennis hos, with the majority of the guests turning out as the latter.

I have hit a milestone in my life the bug 25. As I am the youngest of my mates, it does not seem that they appreciate this endeavour as much as I do. But it has given me time to reflect -- look at what I want out of life and guide myself towards achieving it. Body, Mind and Soul are Number one on my agenda for the next year.

I have started Tai Chi lessons in the morning with Uncle Dad and Co. I never thought that I had muscles in the places that are causing me excruciating pain.
Going back to studying -- that should be interesting.

Going to try and shed my light on the world a little more often via my blog.

Got the Woolworths thing sorted out. They sent me a bottle of their “finest” house red, mixed well with coke and 200 bucks gift voucher. Better than a kick in the arse… me thinks!

Got a puppy, a little staffie called Kama. Kept me up all night but hey it’s worth it.

Amazing how animals seem to add so much to one’s life. Haven’t had a dog since I left my folks place. Fuck I have missed it.

The better half is starting a new job on Monday. Thank fuck her boss is such a wanker. I think that he indulges in copious amounts of narcotics causing a string of personalities that we have become accustom to know. Its like hello, who am I speaking to today?.... At least he is out of our picture. Maybe my relationship will get better – cause I have been aching for a good rodgering. Once every two weeks is not enough !

Had to laugh at the mates though. I was the first to get the house, serious relationship, kid and now a dog. The rest of the buggers used to look at me in confusion when I said that the rabbit style everyday endeavour flies out the window after a few months. “Not a fuck whiteboy, she is as horny as me” Now its a few months down the line and !!! surprise surprise!!! the buggers are in the same boat. Nice !

I feel shit for neglecting my blog – specially when it looked like I was building up a bit of a following. But shit happens life has been hectic.

Hopefully I can romance it a bit more often.

Over and Out …
Anotherwhiteboy

Massive apologies my little blogg, for having neglected you over the past few days. Life has just been really hectic and trying to upload in the evenings through my phone is so fucking slow I think I’ll die of old age before actually posting something.

Today I am well pissed off…

Went to collect my post today and received a letter from Woolworths. Upon opening it discovered that it was a statement, stating that I owe 5k. I am totally adverse to opening accounts at retail stores and only have my credit card. I have never requested, signed or entertained the idea of opening an account with Wollies, or anyone else for that matter. So I get back to the office and call the head office, the half wit that answered the call could hardly get a word of English out let alone advise me on my problem. She did however instruct me to go through to my nearest branch and speak to customer services.

This I did….

The customer liaison representative that helped me was actually rather sweet so I filled out a letter stating that I did not make the purchases. My question though was how the fuck does somebody get access to 5k worth of credit under my name without any identification or my knowing?

Apparently I had agreed to marketing activities with Standard Bank, something I have subsequently stopped. All of these buggers are in cahoots and regularly swap the information of their customers with one another. As was my case Woolworths received my information, pre-approved my credit and apparently sent the card off to me. This was somehow intercepted and through corrupt people at Woolworths allowed my credit to become available.

The stupidity of the thief…

Apparently the person purchasing the items on my account is a Woolworths employee – the quoted their employee number when making the purchase to receive a discount or something. An internal investigation is now taking place.

Death to Mimmos – Had a pizza at the Rosebank branch and have been ill ever since.

Absolutely shitty weekend – no pun intended. Stayed in bed the entire time nursing my cronic stomach pains.

The entire weekend was spent looking at the ceiling.

I did manage to muster the energy to move downstairs and watch some tv on Sunday – about the most exciting thing I got up to this weekend.

But its Tuesday and I feel good again, back at work and getting ready to through caution to the wind and have a banging weekend.

But its only Tuesday :(

3 more sleeps to go!

Finally I get a bit of time to write a decent blog. Been a rather eventful few days – Drove the new Audi at exhilarating speeds around the Kyalami track, gave 100k to a white hill billy in Vanderbijl – the culmination of a campaign I have been working on for a while, did a film shoot in the heart of Eldorado Park. The road to Eldorado is by no means laced with gold – thanks Disney!

On a more serious note though something has been plaguing my mind for a while now and I need to get it off my chest.

When I was at Varsity I took a subject called development studies, why? ‘Cause I was told it was an easy course and one was sure to score good marks – in reality it was hectically boring but at some points rather insightful. Towards the end of my final year we were having a debate in the class – for the life of me I can not remember what I said but a black girl – extremely well dressed and impeccably spoken stood up and responded in saying “ You white bastards made me live in exile, away from my family during my teenage years”. I was quite taken a back by this – being form the school where I was too young to have lived through the harshness of apartheid I felt rather offended. I responded by saying “My mother is from Scotland and my Father the UK, they immigrated here 5 years before I was born, surely you can not generalise so much”.

I thought about it for a while and asked myself perhaps not saying anything is as bad as agreeing with the regime. But can you blame them – having a small child, the threat of being rejected by one’s community – could you blame them, would I do the same? I don’t know. It takes a special kind of hero to do that.

I voiced my feelings to the Hoff and his folks one evening at their house. I had always suspected that they were hippies in Varsity and had always maintained a completely non racial attitude throughout the years. Johnny Clegg is Hoff’s God father for fuck sakes, but I never realised how involved they actually were. They rallied in the townships – an offence that would see any white person being locked up immediately, their phones were tapped, and they were constantly watched and followed. Although they did not have to carry pass books their lives were lived in constant fear.

So 1994 comes and goes and we move onto a democratic society. Hoff finishes matric and receives 4 distinctions moves onto Uni and gets his BCom Accounts. He sent out his CV and battled to find a place to do his articles. He could not get in with any of the big five and whilst they loved him he was quite blatantly told it was due to the colour of his skin.

So his parents were ridiculed, shunned and their personal lives under constant watch because they disagreed with the mistakes of the previous government all in order so that their son can’t find a job – even with an array of degrees because of the colour of his skin? That’s not right!

I admit there are many unsung heroes of the struggle but I do believe that some sort of recognition should be given to the people of other races who played an active role.

Upon further investigation I have realised they were not allow and have met an array of other people in a similar situation.

I really feel strongly about this and would love to create a documentary about this. Hope fully to clean up the mindset of that girl in Varsity and others like her, who have the nerve to generalise without understanding.

Have had a rather hectic day - off to the launch of the Audi RS4 now - I get to test drive the beast. Peas eat your heart out !

Seeing that friendship has been a massive factor on my mind recently I thought that this was rather appropriate.

Friendship between Women:

A woman didn't come home one night. The next day she told her
husband that she had slept over at a friend's house. The man
called his wife's 10 best friends. None of them knew about it.

Friendship between Men:

A man didn't come home one night. The next day he told his
wife that he had slept over at a friend's house.
The woman called her husband's 10 best friends.
Eight of them confirmed that he had slept
over, and two claimed that he was still there.

Got this on email today - thought I would share...

With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person, which almost went unnoticed last week.
Larry LaPrise, the man that wrote "The Hokey Pokey" died peacefully at the age of 93.
The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. --- They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started.

N was actually rather civil at the Hoff’s birthday party... she even gave me a kiss hello. But I am still weary I have walked this path too many times before. Hoff seems to be happy – thank God. They have been dating for 7 years now – through Varsity and into the working world and they have never permanently lived together. Hoff’s parents are magic – live in a massive house in Westcliff of which the whole bottom section is his. I don’t actually blame him for staying at home. But all good things must come to an end and the Hoff’s parents are retiring to KZN. So they are moving in together – I am quite excited – it’s make it or break it time. I really want to see my friend happy but I don’t believe that she is the right women for him.

So how does one know? I don’t believe in love at first sight, but what I quest for is too answer the criteria that a person must fill to be regarded as the one. Must they be intellectually stimulating? Obviously you must be attracted to them. Can one be content in a relationship but rely on their friends for intellectual stimulation?

Need sometime to mull over it a bit more ….

Had a few bottles of scotch at the party … and decided to shake some ass (whilst I love music the urge of dancing was worn out through my continual Sunday danceathons at the old ESP) The urge has set in – off to Taboo – had some friends doing a set there. Realised why I don’t like clubbing that much anymore – R17 a savannah , daylight robbery. I do understand that the club needs to make a profit but at 68 bucks for a double jack and coke, they can go fuck themselves!

Had a jol anyway…

Morgan spent the weekend at Granny so I had sometime off yesterday. She dropped him off in the wee hour’s this morning. Quickly put him in bed with me where we both slept till 8. I really believe that I have baby proofed my house however while I was in the shower he managed to grab a ring of the table and swallow it. I was watching him through the shower door when I noticed that something was wrong. The ring was blocking his airway – I jumped out of the shower and pulled the ring out. I am actually impressed that I did everything so naturally. The first aid course I did, yet again paid off. Managed to stabilised him and everything seemed to be fine.

Driving to work and the events of the morning kicked in. I feel shite – he is the light of my life. Everything is fine – but it makes me think how precious life is and how quickly something can go wrong.

It’s his fist birthday soon – saw a car bed on Sat, it’s really wicked. Going to get it for him!

Squash was fun, I am sore in places that I never knew existed. Feel like the Hilton sisters got hold of me.

Going to Hoff’s birthday party on Saturday – have to deal with his evil other. I really don’t know what injustice I have done that woman but she seems to despise me. When they got engaged – I laid it on, massive dinner all the bells and whistles. Cost me the equivalent of Zimbabwe’s national budget. She didn’t even send me a thank you.

Maybe it’s the fact that after a cocktail party at my house last year I reversed out of my garage not to see that she had parked her new polo behind me. Oops ! wasn’t even that drunk. Drove the bull bar of my 4x4 into the back of her new car – honestly left a dent the size of a golf ball. She got out of the car and swore at me the way a Capey swears her husband for finishing the Autum harvest. I professed my sincerest apologies and paid a whopping 6k to remove the dent – she took it to the most expensive place imaginable. Out of spite I imagine. Bitch didn’t even send a thank you ! Hoff agreed she was out of line.

She didn’t speak to me for months – until one evening she arrived with him to a braai at my house. I am tired of licking her arse. The only reason I ever entertained the idea was to keep the peace. Hoff is a long time friend of mine and I am to be the best man at his wedding. I will not let her ruin our friendship if it’s the last thing I do.

Have a wicked weekend !

Hectic Day loads of pitches – haven’t had anytime to fart let alone contemplate the meaning of important issues affecting my life for my blog. Playing squash with Brewster this evening …should be interesting. Last time I picked up a racket was yonks ago.

Met Brewster and his chick for a drink last night she suggested the idea of how the universe constantly slaps us with energy and we don’t have a chance to connect or download with the earth as we rarely let our feet touch the soil. Wearing rubber soled shoes and walking on carpets and tiles. So if anyone is up to the challenge – roll in the soil everyday for a few minutes and let me know if you feel any better.

Later,

Anotherwhiteboy

Common Courtesy goes along way.

A few weeks ago I became another statistic and had my cell phone stolen. Although to a large extent it was self-inflicted, the result was a happy ending.

I met a few mates for a drink after work one evening at the local. As the evening progressed and the jack started flowing we decided that it would be a great idea to drive down to the one of the recent concerts that was happening in Durban the next morning. I had been given a couple of vip tickets for the DBN show by a client and having attended the Pretoria gig where we were treated like royalty it was decided that the pros far outweighed the cons. So everyone parted ways off to their houses to pack a bag – the idea was that I would drive around and fetch everyone and we would be on our merry way. Throwing caution to the wind I packed my sleeping bag – and a few clothes plus any alcoholic beverage within my grasp, which by the by was mainly peppermint liquor, sambucca and a few drops of scotch – aka major Vomit Comet.

And then the rain started … everyone started sobering up – and all of a sudden our road trip 5 hour drive and no where to crash dreams were not so appealing anymore.

So off to Billys for us – A couple of those Call me a Cab’s and we were back in gear. Now I enjoy the female form as much as the next guy – but strip clubs have never proven to be much of a major attraction to me. Giving a Russian bimbo 300 bucks to gyrate her hips on my crotch whilst she is pretending to be mildly interested in my name seems like a waste of a vacuum cleaner.

--- Side track ---- My Vacuum theory

Straight out of Varsity I was sharing a flat with a mate – we had loads of hand me downs and were scrambling to kit ourselves out with the amenities required to survive. My mate enjoyed his nose candy and one Sunday after a hectic weekend – as it does ... his post drugging depression set in. I was trying to be the voice of reason and told him how it was such a waste of money. Next thing an ad for some cheesy retail store came on and they were advertising a special on vacuum cleaners exactly 300 bucks - the price of any nigerian's finest – so naturally I said “dude every time you do it, its like sticking a vacuum cleaner up your nose”. The comparison worked and he seriously cut down. The Vacuum cleaner theory has stuck.

--- Back to my story ---

So one of the lads, lets call him LB got the great idea to visit the new strip-club that has opened in Randburg – Lolly pops or something like wise. So off we go, after 20 minutes the novelty wore off and the “love you long times” had got the message --- I would have made shylock proud ! The other lads were blowing money like George Bush on a “peace keeping campaign”. They decided to disprove my theory and paid some skanky bitch to take me into the lap dance area. Well nothing new here – danced for exactly two songs – pretended to be getting off on me and then pissed off. Fucking Wasted Vacuum cleaner.
Eventually the lads decided that enough was enough and we left. I was on my way home when I thought I would check my phone – and guess what – no phone!

Now I had worn my jacket the whole evening – besides the lap dance – where it was firmly positioned on the chair behind me. Now the stripper had given me her phone number for what I really don’t know – the last person I would every wish to hook up with is a stripper.

So I called her and asked if she had my phone – to which she replied “I make enough money and don’t need to take other peoples things” – Whatever. So I blacklisted the phone and that was that.

So I called my network provider and began the long and drawn out process of reporting a stolen phone and claiming insurance. After visiting the police station 45 minutes of filling out documents and 3 weeks wait the insurance company called me to tell me my claim had been approved. In order to stay ahead of the game I had already visited the cell shop and scouted out replacement models.

I receive another call from the network provider to say that they would be sending through a list of phones available as my replacement. Get the list, of three and they are all crappy dead end models. So I chatted to the guy telling him how disappointed I was in the selection available – he said it was beyond his control and what phone had I selected. So I went for the Samsung, he says ok I’ll call you on Friday. Pissed off in the supposed incompetency I could not understand why I had to wait till Friday to process the claim.

Friday he calls to tell me that they have just run out of the model I had requested and would have to send me the new Samsung D8 – whatever. Lucky me !

Next day my phone arrives and I am as happy as a pig in shit.

So the point of my story – BE NICE TO PEOPLE IT GETS YOU STUFF!

Thought I would be a wise ass this morning and get to work early. Up at 6 - out the house at 6:45 and arrive at work at 8: 20 - The same time I arrive when I leave at 8 so -Fuck that...I will not succumb to such stupidity again.

Anyways it gave me a bit of time to think;

I always thought the worst job in the world was being a waiter - you take other peoples shit for measly pay and suffer the fate of having your feet clad with blisters.

But I have decide that there is a worst job. The people that hold the boom at a film shoot. As the hierarchy dicates you are at the bottom of the film crew food chain and not only that you arms need to be extended holding the boom for the duration of the shoot. Furthermore your suffering has to be in total silence for fear of ruining a shot. This must all be done whilst mirroing the camera man and ensuring that not only yours but also that his feet do not get caught up in the wires.

Bloody shite ! My hat comes off to you slaves of the film industry.

Then my thoughts got sidetracked to the boobs of the bombshell in the car next to me - I grossly admit I am a typical full blooded male - and for that I shall not apologise !