Woo Hoo, it finally happened... no more standing in the Social Networking queue for me!

On Tuesday, the missus and I took the plunge and forked out on a laptop. The old PC is... well, exactly that, OLD. I can't complain, we've had it since 2002, but it sure has gotten a helluva lot creakier over the last year or so. Since the missus signed up for Farcebook and heavily increased her e-bayitudiness getting quality time on the PC was becoming ever more difficult, and by the time I eventually gained access to t'Internet, I'd barely enough energy to trawl porn sites, let alone contemplate posting any blogs.

But now a whole new avenue is opened up, and at this very moment, my good lady and I are sat, as we so often are at this time of night, rather anti-socially in separate rooms err, socially networking and such like. I imagine in time, we'll both be simultaneously partaking in illicit web based affairs as we slowly begin to drift apart on account of our new device and the emotional wedge it will eventually create.

But still, come on! Let's weigh this one up... a long term relationship (having resulted in spawn) versus the opportunity to regularly type up personal meanderings... is there really even a problem here? Not one that I can see at any rate. 

One thing however, I think I'm gonna need to purchase a slightly stronger energy saving bulb for the table lamp in my living room. I can already feel my eyes straining to find the keys. I wouldn't want to blog myself blind now would I?

Greetings Folks!

Firstly, apologies for the confusion caused with the posting of this blog. I had started typing on Saturday but the girls arrived home sooner than expected and Olivia is far more demanding of my time than she was two years ago, so I never got back to it... I guess I should enjoy this while it lasts, after all, it won't be long before she'll be mortified at the prospect of spending any quality with her "dear ol' dad". 

Anyhoo, it's sailing towards the two month mark since last I posted owt on this here Place For Friends™ but as LOB pointed out in his Cake Theory Blog MySpace is on its knees and I can't help but mirror some of his sentiments.

Anyhoo, in a bid to keep myself away from some of the seedier and admittedly highly pornographic corners of the Interweb, I thought I'd put my hands to an entirely different task and decided to type a blog instead of the alternatives.

The trouble being of course, I have absolutely nothing to say... but hell, when did that ever stop me in the past eh? I suppose I should really wish everyone a very Happy, Global Recession Fuelled 2009! Let the hunting and a gathering commence eh? Thankfully, I have developed an incredible ability to forage for blackberries, the pitfall being that this is all I'm any use at foraging for and seeing that they're only available in Autumn, I suspect that one year in the not too distant future I am likely to starve to death.

So, last time I was here I regaled you all with thrilling tales of my new line in vocationalism. Sadly as I have a vastly empty an unfulfilling life I must continue along this particular track. Hello, is there anybody there? Hello?

Time has moved along very swiftly and I have gone through an absolutely massive learning curve but thankfully I am blessed with an incredible intellect and superb cognitive skills, so I've been well up to the tasks thrown at me obviously. Alright, perhaps it hasn't been as easy as all that, I've certainly come home on occasions with a burnt out branium but much seems to have stuck. So much so that midway through last week, Alan announced that he was left with little choice but to cut the apron strings.  
 
Today I flew solo and managed to handle a number of cases without too much incident. This included a request by the prosection to extend a three count indictment by a mere nineteen counts, eight of which contained charges containing the dreaded METHYLENEDIOXYMETHYLAMPHETAMINE... 'BAAASTAAADS!!!' screamed my inner monologue whilst externally I managed "certainly Counsel, that won't be a problem". Putting the charges to the defendants seemed to take an absolute lifetime and due to the repetive use of the dreaded  methylenedioxymethylamphetamine I suffered the most terrible case of dry mouth I have ever endured. I addressed this problem about half way through by attempting to stop and coolly take a much needed gulp of water. If I had managed to conceal my nerves that far, I was desperately let down by the shakiest of hands, but I got there in the end. After the ordeal, I slumped into my chair, a clammy wreck, and struggled to take in the remainder of proceedings, but the Judge was a good sport afterwards and helped me join the dots of the bits I had missed.

Overall though, the job is still going very well and it is without doubt one of the best, and certainly most interesting I have ever done... I dearly hope I get my temporary contract extended after April, although in the current climate, I guess I'd have to count myself lucky to have a job at all, Court Clerk or not.

I've only been doing the job a matter of a couple of months and already there has veritable goldmine of blog worthy material, but therein lies the rub. Much of it has to remain confidential up until the matter has been resolved, and even after that, I'd be on dodgy ground as to what I feel I could mention. Plus, after having had my fingers burnt over having a MySpace blog a couple of years ago, I'm not mad keen to repeat the experience of being hauled over the works' coals again. 

Greetings!

Well, that's another week under my belt. This week however went much more smoothly than the last, and this time I managed to turn in for all five days; a feat I'm sure that will have served to endear me to my new colleagues no end.

So, what did this week long stint of work sloggery entail? Well, as you'd expect much more sitting in court. On day one, I got to see my first official pervert in the dock. I can claim him as being "official" on account of the fact that he pleaded guilty. It was an interesting test for me, being the father of a young girl, I had wondered how I would approach such a matter. I had been forewarned that to be able to do the job you had to develop a sense of detachment and build up a wall, otherwise you'd be unable to function.

Having access to the case background information and learning a little bit about how the court is to conduct itself in such matters, I soon learned that I'd be up to the task of remaining relatively impartial. After all, my main function is to provide support to the Judge and court users, allowing personal emotions to enter into proceedings would serve no good purpose. Simply shrieking "PAEDO!!!" at the top of my voice across the court room is unlikely to help anyone in these circumstances is it?

Hello all!

Just thought whilst I was at a loose end I'd schlapp together a quick overview of my first week at my new job...

Things didn't get off to the best of starts on Monday as I had to ring in and take the day off from work for matters of a personal nature (the details of which I shan't trouble you all with... suffice to say it was an unfortunate event). During the course of Monday, I was contacted by my line manager from my old office to let me know that I had scored yet another interview for another job based at the County Court in Newcastle... YIKES!

So my week officially started on Tuesday. I reacquainted myself with Arriva's pauper wagon and the daily commuting horror that is Gosforth High street. I arrived at the Crown Court a good twenty minutes early on account of the rain and a lack of anywhere else to go. I was greeted by a friendly faced chap by the name of Alan. I soon learned that he was to be my mentor for the coming months. A seemingly good choice of mentor on account of his sunny disposition and his guarantee that it is virtually impossible to irritate or annoy him (which may prove to be a good thing 'cause people who don't pick things up quickly boil my piss), so to have someone with an ounce of patience whilst I learn my trade is most reassuring.

I was given a brief tour of some of the court rooms into which I will eventually be placed and was told about some of the pomp and ceremony I'd be expected to perform as part of my duties. Due to some administrative shenanigans, my first day spent in court was to be at the Moot Hall, a satellite court to the one based at the Quayside. A huge Georgian building with imposing Doric columns and a massive wooden door at its entrance.    

      
I was told that it was unusual for a new starter to be exposed to the Moot Hall within the first couple of months as it is more commonplace to allow them to become accustomed to the more familiar surroundings of the Crown Court's modern courtrooms. As it is, the Moot Hall houses two court rooms identical in design, and as it is an National Heritage site, the dock is still surrounded by metal spikes, much to the distaste of human rights activists.

Within my first hour I got to see a Judge in full flight, losing his rag at having been moved from the court room to which he had attempted to take root. Conversely, I also got to see some well executed diplomacy from Alan and was given a fair idea about what my new position may well entail.

The first case I was to sit in on was a matter that would be resolved within twenty minutes as Alan and his twelve year's of experience was confident that the defendant would make a guilty plea... this was not to be the case and the matter unexpectedly went to trial. So my first day of training went slightly askew, but at least I got to see how to impanel a jury and caught a glimpse into the theatrical nature of barristerial sparring.

The case took longer than expected and spilled over into a three day trial, of which I sat in on for two days so sadly didn't get to hear the verdict. On Thursday I sat in on a plea list at the Crown Court proper and got to see some real spade work and again a further insight as to what is going to be expected of me. On the surface it sure looks quite daunting but hell, I've been crying out for a challenge like this for years so I feel ready to get the bit well and truly between my teeth.

I was given Thursday afternoon off to prepare for the interview and essentially given all of Friday off to attend it. So my first week was... "a bit choppy" to say the least, having only actually been there for two and a half days of it. My new line manager and I have decided to regard  it as a write off and start afresh on Monday.

As for the interview? It went alright, but I feel I may have actually done less well than I did at my last one. I should find out if I have been successful or not by the middle of next week...

As it is, I don't think I'll be all that bothered this time around if I'm not successful. I'd really rather like a good crack at the job I've just started but I'll have to wait and see what happens. Knowing my luck, despite a fairly shittily performed interview, I'll probably get the permanent promotion and be faced with some difficult decision making.

Ciao for now peeps!

It's uncanny really that I should be posting this on the very same day Stevie G posted his news about his sterling secondment success as I have news of a similar ilk myself.

A fair few of you that have read my postings in the past will know that I have spent the past couple of years or so pursuing advancement in the workplace. Well, finally it happened... well, sort of. A week past Wednesday I was told that I had been selected for a six month secondment to Newcastle Crown Court as a Court Clerk. When asked if I would be interested, I had blurted out an uncontrollable excitable YES!!!! before the sentence had even finished.

The most difficult thing has been keeping the news under my hat for the past ten days or so. I was asked to keep schtumm (I love the fact the the spell checker offered tumescent or scrotum as alternative options for schtumm) until details were finalised, even posting on the web was a little risky as I know a couple of former colleagues may well stumble their way upon this page from time to time. Thankfully however, they broke the news to my team yesterday and I am now looking forward  to starting my new job on 10th November.


It may only be a six month temporary posting but it's a real opportunity for me to try and land the job properly. I came fairly close to getting the job at the last round of interviews and I think this is why I have been picked this time around for the temporary post. So who knows? It may become a permanent fixture.

Ever since I discovered that being a Court Clerk at the Crown Court required no legal training it became an ambition of mine to have a crack at the job so it's needless to say that I'm thrilled at the opportunity to get up close and personal with the likes of thugs, drug dealers, murderers, rapists and Joey Barton. And hopefully I'll get to realise my ambition of being rendered in a chalk sketch...


Of course, I'm aware that you should always be careful what you wish for and I'm under no illusions that it's gonna be easy but after nearly nine years of doing the same old thing I feel more than ready for a new challenge.   

... but it pours, so say those of a proverbial bent. Owning (or at least paying to own) your own home has many benefits, particularly if you're sensible enough not to stack up aspirational items such as fancy holidays, exorbitantly priced flashy cars, conservatories and a plethora of other pointless material objects to clutter your life with against the equity. My house was never an investment. it was intended to be my home. If only a great many other people had looked at their bricks and mortar in this way, perhaps we wouldn't be in this global financial mess that has occurred.


Of course, the downside of owning your own property is that it's yours, problems and all. Lately, our house has begun to show signs of wear and tear, which  in the past would have been fine but as of late the purse has felt a little light and so the mildest household infraction has left me feeling a little like Tom Hanks in "The Money Pit".

Broken toilet seats, mystery leaks in the kitchen ceiling that stop and start of their own accord and which several plumbers/handymen have been unable to locate the source of or explain, leading me to coin the phrase "Sometimes, you've just gotta let your ceiling fall in"... largely 'cause I'm buggered if I know what else I can do... I'll be sure to post some pics when it happens. Carpets ruined by a demented, domesticated pheline and finally an apparent infestation of mice.

The mice have felt like the final straw in a very quick succession of admittedly mild, but still hellishly annoying annoyances. The first mouse was discovered last Saturday night by my shrieking missus whilst I was out for a few beers checking out a mate's band in town. When I arrived home I made alcohol fuelled assurances that it wasn't a problem. "Why, when I was a child and we lived near the farm, mice used to always plague our house at this time of year, so I'm used to dealing with them" I was heard to proclaim, or something to that effect.

Of course, beery bravura is a wonderful thing but actuality is of course an entirely different beast altogether. Yes, in the eighties, when I lived near a farm our house was regularly under siege from field mice as the autumn drew in. However, I neglected to tell my good lady wife that dealing with the little blighters was never my responsibility. Truth be told I am a squeamish fellow and dead mice in traps were never something I was ever comfortable in having to deal with. Removal of the corpses was always left to my younger brother or one of the next door neighbours whilst I busied myself with flower pressing or something alternatively manly like that.

Anyhoo, Sunday morning arrived and the missus had made her mind up that mousetraps were the way to go. So I made a purchase of a couple later that day. Now I know there may be some nature loving types out there amongst you that would question "Why didn't you go for a humane trap?" My answer is simple, they don't always work particularly well and even when they're captured, you usually only let 'em go somewhere near the vicinity of your home, so invariably, they'll be back within a matter of days, if not sooner. Plus, I could not abide the thought of the little buggers shitting and pissing all over my cupboards and helping themselves to my Crunchy Nut Cornflakes.

The blurb on the back of the mousetrap pack said peanut butter was the elixir most likely to draw the rodents out to their doom. They weren't wrong, barely half an hour had passed when an ominous "CRACK" emanated from the kitchen... at the time, I was in the lounge playing with Olivia. My stomach sank, I knew what that sound meant and I knew it was going to have to be dealt with. There was nothing else for it, I would have to call upon the wife.

In fairness to her, she coped admirably with the situation, whilst I went about the important duty of keeping Olivia occupied to save upon the difficulties of explaining about the recently expired mouse. One mousetrap emptying later, the problem was solved. Ten minutes later "CRACK" went the mousetrap. That would be silly expired rodent number two. One more mouse mouse got clanged before the day was out.

I'll say this for the modern design of mousetraps, they're much better than the solid steel ones we used in the 80s. Those traps were apparently designed to assist with the breaking of grizzly bear's toes and complete guillotining of mice as opposed to merely trapping them. Some of the carnage from those days haunts me still, especially the one that was hit so hard most of its innards were forced out of its mouth. So to have traps with a rubber coating across the bar, preventing outright mouse horror is a complete bonus as far as I'm concerned.

We have since introducing the traps, spent most of the time entering the kitchen with a due sense of dread and trepidation, peering cautiously to see whether we have any caught any unwanted guests. On Monday, I found a mouse in  the trap prior to and after going to work. Both of which I had to deal with myself as the missus was sadly unavailable.       

Not content with simply catching the mice in the traps, my good lady then returned home on Tuesday with poison to set behind the washing machine (the apparent point of entry for the mice). We pulled the washing machine out and thankfully found no trace of a nest. The poison was duly laid down and washing machine returned to its originating spot. We made it all the way through the week until Friday morning when I was confronted with the following...

Evening All!

Well, today I am slumped at the keyboard, devoid of energy and enduring slight achiness all over. This is a result of having completed the Great North Bike Ride. I am delighted to report that I completed the course in a more than respectable 3 hours and forty five minutes. This was an especially good achievement for me as I had aimed to complete it within four hours. I guess my "training" appears to have paid some dividend.

The truth of the matter is, I found the ride itself less grueling than the drive up to the starting line at Seahouses. A couple of weeks back, my rear wheel's spokes all went loose and I had to take it to be repaired. To do this, I had to put the bike into the rear of my car to get it to the shop. This shattered my rather foolish notion that I could simply fit bike and child into the rear of the car and simply drive up to the starting point without the need for a costly bike rack

So I dug deep and shelled out a few quid on a rack (much to the missus's disapproval). Of course the weather, almost since the date of purchase has been unequivocally shit and appeared to rain at any given moment I even began to consider a practice run at fitting the rack. I had concerns I might also have been required to shell out on a lighting board .

On Saturday, there was finally a sufficient break in rain to allow me to fit it, and it proved that at least the registration plate was visible, although I was unable to attach one strap to the underside of the car. Still, I figured five out of six straps fitted would surely hold it in place... wouldn't it? Also, I wasn't sure what a more officious member of our local constabulary would make of my slightly obscured rear lights.

Being the neurotic animal that I am, I spent most of my time from fitting it, agonising over an imagined road side stop at the hands of the Police or worse still, losing the entire rack and bike in transit thanks to the one missing strap.

My fears of receiving a fixed penalty ticket were quickly put to one side, when, withing five minutes of hitting the road, I was passed by three cars laden with bicycles, all clearly heading for the same event with barely a registration plate or rear light in view. Now I was left only with the missing strap/tumbling bike fear, and this particular neurosis did not abate until we were nearly three quarters the way through our journey. The noise coming from the rack was horrendous and even a couple of stops, pulling in to laybys to check the strapping did little to ease my mind. Thankfully an hour of travelling later and I was out of my misery and at the starting line.

I had originally taken my camera to document bits and pieces of the event but managed to take only two at the beginning which basically showed a mass congregation of cyclists. And, quite frankly, I couldn't be arsed to upload 'em. I tried to find pics elsewhere on the 'net but only found these taken by the BBC
and they were too lazy to venture anywhere other than the finish line.

Although it was a fund raiser and advertised as a Bike Ride and not a race, I soon discovered the competitive creature that lays somewhere deep within me. Once I was let out of the traps I was compelled to make my way steadily to the front of the cycling crowd. I figured it would be easier than being mired down amongst the more plebeian cyclists at the event. This mindset was largely responsible for the lack of snap happiness displayed from yours truly.

About ten miles in I had made up my mind that I would aim to get to the finish line within the first one hundred riders, and, as I was keeping a steady comfortable pace, I didn't think it was completely beyond the realms of possibility. So despite travelling through the scenic coastline of Northumberland, I spent most of my ride concentrating on the riders in front, slowly but surely making my way towards the front of the pack.

At the halfway point many cyclists had stopped at Warkworth for refreshments. By this point I had a pounding headache and decided it would be best to drop in at the mother-in-law's in Amble to make use of her facilities and scrounge some headache tablets. She was astounded to see me a the door as it had only taken me an hour and a half to travel approximately 27 miles. I refueled with a choccy bar and a banana, took on more water and was on my way again within twenty minutes.

The second half of the course proved to be much more grueling and I held back from the temptation to stop a second time. At times the pains in my thigh and calf muscles was excruciating but I dug deep and powered on, at times mentally fighting my way up some ferociously steep hills.  Even as the miles continued counting down, I found myself still driven to catching up to the next rider in front of me.

Eventually, I caught sight of Tynemouth priory and made my way steadily towards the official finish line. Exhausted and exhilarated I had made it in one piece and,  quite surprisingly for my first attempt at an event like this I had certainly made it back within the first 100 riders. I rang the missus to arrange to meet with her, only to discover she had only just left Amble herself. At least I was left with forty minutes to recover before she and Olivia landed.

You'll have to forgive the rather self aggrandising nature of this blog, but this was a goal I set for myself earlier this year and I am delighted and truly proud of myself for having completed it all under my own steam.

Of course, this pales into insignificance when compared to Mark Beaumont's amazing achievement, being that I travelled less than half the distance he did each day for a staggering 195 days, but I remain proud nonetheless and will most probably be looking for other challenges in the future.

Cheers for dropping by...

Luv'n'Cuddlz

Paulio xx  

Well, here I am again, I'm almost tempted to once again apologise for having been absent for quite so long. However, we'll just have to face up to the fact that Internetiness simply does not have the stranglehold on my life that it did two years ago and that any future blogs (if any) will simply have to be regarded as mere cameos.

So what then is the reason behind my latest hiatus? Well, I'll tell you.


In light of the credit crunch biting in, higher fuel and grocery bills and a looming recession I have been learning to live a life of greater self sufficiency. Much of my time has been spent scouring local woodlands learning how to forage for food. As I'm sure you'll appreciate, this is a very time consuming practice and, having lost nearly three stones in weight and living largely off grass and Pig Nut salads (strangely, it's not nearly as tasty as it sounds) I began to wonder whether foraging was really for me.


I tried learning how to spear fish, after all, if an Orangutan can do it, surely I could too right? Well, let me tell you, it's nowhere near as easy as Clyde above there makes it look. I have persevered but quite frankly, Sticklebacks don't have much eating on them. Hunting vermin seemed like my next best likely option, and there may well be more than one way to skin a rabbit but every last one of them is absolutely gross and I'm not a big fan of the snapping noises of the bones or the tearing sound of skin and sinew.

After a mere five weeks of this nonsense I finally relented and brought myself back to stalking the aisles of treachery in my local Morrison's store. Buy one get one free offers will have to suffice in place of living off the land for now.

Trying to cover all avenues of cost cutting I turned my attention to our domestic energy consumption. So I have spent the past month or so closely following the family around the home, haranguing wife and daughter into switching off all appliances immediately after use. Ultimately, this has meant that I have had to lead by example and so I have shown the way by dramatically reducing my use of all media related items such as the TV, radio and the PC.


I have encouraged them to shun modern convenience distractions and replace them with more traditional parlour games such as "Lookabout", "Charades", "Blindman's Bluff"  and "Pass the Slipper". Needless to say, it's gone down an absolute storm and I have never proved to be more popular within the walls of my own home. They've even given me a sweet little nickname "Nazi Dad" a sure sign that learning to live frugally in these fraught times is well worth the effort.

Anyhoo, I must cut this short as I am approaching the end of my appropriated monthly "webtime" and I have only a further five minutes to find some suitable porn with which to thrapp myself silly.

Cheery-bye everyone!

How do Folk(s)... well, ye never know do you, just who's still left reading when you hardly ever drop by yersel' eh?

Sorry I haven't been about much as of late, been really busy still not washing my hair, I've just done the maths and it's actually now seven weeks to the very day since last I troubled my locks with shampoo. So that's yet another personal milestone shattered. I'm so very proud as I'm sure you can imagine.


So now apparently, my hair is washing itself all of its own accord with the natural oils from my scalp. The truth is, it doesn't actually look any worse or better than when I first stopped washing it with bottles jam packed with hair weakening chemicals. So I'm not really sure whether to keep up my resolve and continue to live like a wannabe Swampy or if I should just cave in and let Messrs Proctor and Gamble look after my locks with their impressive range of hair care products. Perhaps my forthcoming trip to the barbers will have the final say in my choice.

Sometime since last I posted anything anywhere on the web, I have taken the foolish decision to set myself a further goal that doesn't just involve a lax approach to personal hygiene. Having grown a little bored of simply cycling in circles around about my hometown and the humdrum daily commute to my office, I decided I needed something to stretch myself and really make some use out of the bicycle. So I've only gone and entered myself in for this year's Great North Bike Ride ain't I?

Now to hardened cyclists I'm sure 50 miles sounds fairly pitiful but I've never yet managed much over 18 miles in any given day so I think I'm likely to suffer if I don't put some work in ahead of the event. I'll be sure to post pictures of my chafed groinal areas after I've completed the course. Should any of you lovely people feel so inclined, you may like to visit my sponsorship page and leave a contribution for a worthy cause.

Of course you may not feel so inclined but I'll leave it entirely up to you. Although, it is looking pretty pathetic with no pounds and no pence in there at the moment.

Oh and keep yer eyes peeled for Paulio's post Great North Bike Ride cycle short's auction, coming to an e-Bay near you!

Ciao for now folk(s)!