Merry Christmas One And All

I think we should all spend a moment to consider the true meaning of Christmas, so I found this, and the somewhat shorter this. But more importantly here is a straw Christmas Goat:
In Sweden it's not a fat old man with flighty reindeer who delivers the presents on Christmas Eve, oh no, it's the Julbok - the Christmas Goat!

If I'm going to make up strange tales of spurious super-natural Decemberween gift givers, so Esme gives all the credit for her presents to someone else, it's going to be the Christmas Goat.

Happy New Year, and an extra dose of Humbug all round!

F**king Bus Ballet

The Omnibus: from the Latin 'Omni', meaning 'All' and with the dative plural suffix 'bus', thus meaning 'For All (people)', and commonly used to describe horse-drawn or motorised public conveyances. What wonderful egalitarian images it conjures up! A full and diverse cross section of society riding together through the streets of our country's towns and cities; travelling to work, visiting friends, or journeying to partake in some cultural or educational experience. Sharing the voyage and perhaps some conversation with folk from a different walk of life, all differences forgotten; companions in motion!

So proud are we, in London, of our omnibus, we devote special road lanes to them, indeed sometimes whole roads. We give them precedence at traffic lights, and are expected, no matter what our personal needs or circumstance, to always give way to their needs first.

One of the most sublime and exquisite aspects of London buses is the way they dance. The beautiful ballet of the RouteMaster is a joy to behold.

Below I describe the six steps to the 'Pas De Deux' (dance for two), one of the basic steps in 'Fucking Bus Ballet', as it is known, from the point of view of the lucky audience motorist.

Step 1. Risque Invisible !
A bus (shown green) ahead in the bus lane, initially obscures the view of the second bus (shown red) and the bus stop, we are going slightly faster and are about to overtake.
Step 2. Excusez-Moi !
Hold on! Slam on the brakes! Green pulls out in front of us. Red has stopped to allow some passengers to alight so Green must go around. It could be a tight turn, and Green might pause part way through, to add dramatic tension.


Step 3. Bof, Allez-Vous
Green, having no need to stop and a clear road ahead prepares to pass the Red. It may again pause about here so the drivers can exchange some cordial greeting.
Step 4. Tous Ensemble Maintenant
We progress again, now behind Green. But wait! Red has finished its disembarkation duties and is setting off again.
Step 5. Non, Non, Après Vous
Hold on! Slam on the brakes! The green bus slows right down, politely recognising the red buses priority and waits it turn, pulling back in behind. Often another pause in this manoeuvre, to allow Red to fully pass and for artistic symmetry.
Step 6. En Voyage
Back to the opening position again, we can now proceed past Green and Red. Don't forget to wave!

(nb. Arrows denote a vehicle in motion, exclamation marks denote a stopped vehicle.)

During busy times of day, when there are more buses, intricate and complex displays can be seen, often involving five or more buses and three road lanes. The introduction of the Bendy Bus has further added to the artistic repertoire, with some quite stunning routines regularly being played out around the Elephant and Castle roundabouts.

First Day Fun And Games

Well, Monday was my first day in the new job, and it all went rather well

So far there have been:

1. A complete lack of 'colourful' characters trying too hard to impress or befriend me
2. Zero disapproving looks as I accidentally used the wrong coffee mug
3. No cringe-worthy, embarrassing foot-in-mouth moments when I call someone a clueless fuck only to discover she's 1.Standing behind me, and 2.My new boss
4. No clueless fucks at all! (So far, I've not met them all yet...)

Which is all rather rubbish for witty anecdotes, but very good for an easy life. Especially when the whole house has a stinky cold and is waist deep in used tissues, and the sweet dear little baby makes the sound you would expect to hear should you put the business end of a vacuum cleaner into a large lime jelly whilst operating a chainsaw. How one so small can have sinuses so large and reverberating is quite a wonder . (Thankfully I never snore, or poor Antonia would get no sleep at all.)

At the end of the first day, two of the chaps who sit near to me invited me to join them for a beer after work; Declan who is Irish and David who is Scottish, so I even had a 'An Englishman, and Irishman and a Scotman walked into a pub...' moment, which has to be a good thing.

And best of all, there is no school uniform! So today I dressed like this:

I Resign! (Thank God!)

One month ago, for reasons to0 numerous and dull to list here, I quit my job. Three days before my last day a large meeting was held with compulsory attendance for all my eighty or so colleagues. The department (or 'sector' as they called it) I worked in is to be relocated to Basildon (about 35 miles east of London).

Basildon is a 1950s 'New Town', built to provide housing after the war. Before I continue I would like to share with you some images of Basildon:
















I would like you to compare this with the immediate neighbours of the current City Of London office:












The Basildon office is in an industrial estate park (actually the one shown in the last picture of Basildon), a 40-minute walk from the railway station. Strangely, a number of people do not want to spend over four hours a day travelling to and from this rural paradise located in the majestic central plains of Essex. This apparently, has surprised the 'executives' that made the decision. I tried very, very hard not to have the most enormously smug, shit-eating grin for those last three days. Not liking my colleagues and immediate management was not actually one of the reasons for leaving. I think this is a rather shitty trick to pull on some pretty loyal and dedicated staff, I really wouldn't wish Basildon New Town on anyone. Thankfully some of the people affected live in Essex anyway, so the travelling won't be too bad, and I don't think many of the rest will find it hard to get a new job, but what a lovely Christmas gift from the company!

For reference, my new job is based next door to here:






It is still just a fifteen-minute cycle ride. I love living in London, and I am so, so, very smug.

Does he or doesn't he? (only his hairdresser knows for sure...)

It seems to me that our dear, beloved Home Secretary, Dr John Reid has a phantom moustache. If you see him out of the corner of your eye, he has a moustache, but when you try to look at it, it just melts away.










I think it is possibly the ghost of William Powell's moustache:











I'm not sure of the significance of this, but I don't think that it is right that a man in his position is sporting the ethereal facial plumage of a deceased foreign national.

Subtle Differences With Our Cousins O'er Pond.

How Americans make 'traditional' sage stuffing (thanks to Kraft)

Enriched Wheat Flour (Wheat Flour, Niacin, Iron, Thiamin, Mononitrate [Vitamin B1], Riboflavin [Vitiman B2], Folic Acid),High Fructose Corn Syrup, Onions*, Salt, Contains Less Than 2% Of Partially Hydrogenated Soybean And/Or Cottonseed Oil, Cooked Chicken And Chicken Broth, Carrots*, Yeast, Hydrolyzed Soy Protein Spice, Parsley*, Celery*, Corn Syrup*, Caramel Color, Natural Flavor, Yeast Extract, Sugar, Turmeric, Chicken Fat, Disodium Guanylate, Disodium Inosinate, Artificial Flavor, with BHA, BHT, Propyl Gallate, And Citric Acid As Preservatives.

*Dried.

How the English make Sage and Onion Stuffing (thanks to Shropshire Spice Company)

Wholemeal Breadcrumb, Dried Onion Flake, Dried Sage.