emchi.co.uk

So I’ve been looking at the new and refreshed friends re-united.  I’ll get onto how I “broke” it more than once in a bit.  However I wanted to make some observations about the application as a whole. 

Do people seriously care so much about what others think of them that they still feel the need to gloat?  I mean c’mon, we’re over thirty now (well most of us).  Does it matter where you went to university? Does it matter what you do?  Do you care so much about getting “one up” on the rest of the world? 

Yes, I have a profile on there, but my whistful ways are wondering, what’s the point in gloating?  (I don’t think I do anymore).  If you are happy then that is all that matters.  I will admit to having a moment where I went “yes, the obnoxious bitch is doing worse than me”… only because it would appear, karma, has played a poingiant role in this instance.

So honestly, what is the point in Friends Reunited?  It’s like an early version of Facebook, but only for people you were forced to spend time with rather than chose to.  Does it translate well into Web 2.0? No. It doesn’t appear all that different to it’s previous version.  Only now it’s free to use. 

It would also appear that the site was not tested properly before launch.  Otherwise how could I have broken it so easily? It’s slow, the pages lag, the back button is less than reliable and pages do not update with information quickly.  C’mon guys, you’re owned by BT now, you should know how to develop a website that does what it’s supposed to do. 

Well today mainly involved getting up early and going to visit the puppies.  You see we are getting a Golden Retriever, we have a name and I think we maybe a little closer to deciding which of the three bitches is Lily. 

Lily the puppy

Yes you can go all “Awwwww… she’s so cute” ’cause she is.  I cuddled her for about five minutes, she managed to get her paw down my t-shirt, lick my neck, lick my arm and tried to wiggle off.  She’s very cute.  For more photos go and have a look below.

More Puppy Photos

Well thanks to some lying bitch in Humberts in Salisbury who sold us out, more to the point gave the house we wanted to a family who saw the place after us, we have nowhere to move to.  Time is running out, and we won’t be moved by the time I start my new job.  I’m now stressed to the max.  I’m also very angry that the sanctimonious bitch gave away the property and lied to me.

Christmas is upon us and the only small victory is my seven foot Christmas tree, and a smattering of presents nestling underneath it’s plastic boughs. 

I went to deliver Christmas presents today, and whilst shivering my arse off in the sheltered arcade at the top of Victoria street, a brass band was playing Christmas carols.  I came to realise two things whilst sitting there trying to remember Bear Gryll’s survival tricks to warm my extremites up.  1. they were actually very good, and 2. I only know one verse of just about every Christmas carol they were playing. 

I’m tired, bone weary tired.  I am hoping for some good luck, and for it to come very fast.  Tomorrow I shall be wrapping presents and watching cheesy Christmas films.

I was trying to think of something completely profound to blog about… but I saw my blog totals and then my comment totals… I have 600 posts and 600 comments, well I did, now I don’t as this is post 601.

Anyway, nothing exciting going on at the moment. I’m surrounded by my yearly collection of holiday brochures I’ll never use… Why is going on holiday such a normal thing for everyone on the planet except me? I’m determined NOT to do another driving holiday where I come back as wound up as I went away, which means one of two things, 1. I’ll not have a holiday this year or 2. I’ll go on my own. At least that’s the height of selfishness, you’ve got to love it.

Currently enjoying the nice weather, the tree in the garden has suddenly turned green, which is always nice. One day it’s full of tight little green buds and the next it’s a cacophony of green leaves. I love the spring. Well I love all seasons but I love the start of them, when they drag on for so long you loose the crisp freshness of them, you know what I mean, it’s just like having fresh bed linen on your bed, it’s crisp, it’s fresh and you love it. If you’re a lazy git like me and don’t get around to washing and drying your linen every week / month then you don’t notice the point at which it goes from being lovely and fresh to being stale and old, it just suddenly happens and you need a change. Only with the seasons you can’t do that.

Wow was that meaningful blogging? I do believe it was. Anyway, as it’s now about two / three weeks until I turn 30, and nobody’s bought me anything off my wish list, I thought I’d publish it on here so you can have a damn good laugh at it. I would publish the email’s I’ve been sending out as FAQ’s to my birthday, but it may offend some if found out (yes, I am a bitch, but you shouldn’t give up on something you are good at)… The one thing I will say is this, nobody’s going to buy me anything on that list, I mean really, who’s going to spend £4k on a laptop and some software for me, other than me? Anyway, it wouldn’t be a wish list if you didn’t put things on it you wish for!

Emma’s 30 - Buy her something :o)

This week all in all hasn’t been too bad. The thing for which I was given a bollocking for was a bit of a non-starter. I was given a warning, that failure to complete a project would result in disciplinary proceedings… i.e. the bastards would sack me. So here’s where it gets funny, I preped everything up, I had the quotation and schedule of work ready ahead of schedule by about an hour and a half. Was I given the sign off? was I hell. So I guess my question is this, how can the threat of disciplinary proceedings hang over my head when they won’t give the go ahead for the project to continue? hmmm bit perplexed by that one I must say.

Anyway the reason for today’s bitch is my sheer and utter annoyance at someone else I work with. We’ll call him PLRB (those who want an explanation should email me). He’s the biggest PITA known to woman. He is completely unable to complete his own work thus dumping it on others, passing blame for not completing it off onto others and then loosing his rag when stuff he hasn’t done but has passed off onto others isn’t done. He makes out like he’s the only person who has any work. He treats the boss’ PA as his own, he treats the COO like his bitch… I mean seriously this guy needs to be taken down a peg or two. I’m at the end of my tether as he won’t do anything that is his responsibility to do for me. He sees breasts and immediately I’m considered a PA. He’s a good five years younger than me, and has little or no respect for anyone. I’ve never encountered such a specimine of wanker at such a young age. Any ideas people?

Found on sky news showbiz (yes ok enough already, I read popbitch and holy moly as well)

“With her own Golden Quarters, Susie must follow the Golden Rules, use the Golden Toilet, wear gold, and take a Golden Shower every day…”

I draw your ettention to the last bit… “Golden Shower” this is where I could make jokes about it being a piss poor show and now their rising to the challenege, but it’d be too obvious.

Hello to two potentially new readers of the site. I will warn you that this is my personal interest, and probably isn’t the most interesting thing on the internet.

A colleague at work and I have found an interesting past time at lunch. There’s a shop near where we work that sells trainers, as in proper running shoes, not the fashionable ones. It sells the proper ones that fappy people who do things like run wear.

Well when you go to this shop, they make you try the trainers on, then they make you run up and down to check if you’ve bought the right ones. Well opposite this place is a cafe. Queue newly developed lunchtime habit. Sitting at the table and watching people run up and down like twits. Why? because they’re never dressed for running, so you see people in suits with their trousers tucked into their shoes, and women with low cut tops and non-sensible bra’s bouncing all over the show.

I’m a bitch so it’s great fun for me. Excellent entertainment whilst sitting there eating something reasonably unhealthy. Or like yesterday getting Coleslaw up my nose whilst talking on the phone then, getting laughed at by my colleague next to me and my boss (mark 2… it’s a long story) on the phone… ah life’s great.

There’s something nice about being home, the widescreen tv, the sofa, squigy cushions and my FCUK blanket… I’m nucking fackered though. Someone please remind me why I took a job where the head office was some 350 odd miles away.

It was a good week, I got lots done, I confussed the hell out of a lot of people, I had a birthday party. It was a good week really.

Off to watch the Gumballers tomorrow… should be interesting. well at least I hope it will be.

One final note, I love how everyone is raving about Mozilla, it’s top notch on a PC, but it sucks my memory dry on my MAC, and runs like a bitch, even with the tweaks to performance.

Also, had a bit more time than I thought with Tiger, it’s top banana. Love spotlight, and I love dashboard… runs pretty good, but I’ve realises I need a gig of ram so I’m off to count pennies to see if I can afford two 512meg chips for the baby.

Sweet dreams peeps.

.. but considering my views on religion I’ll let it pass… if you don’t want to read anything remotely funny in relation to the pope then look away now…

…. I said avert your eyes…

Ok from the comic genius brain of Ross… two tv concepts.

To save the vatican having to choose a new pope, give the people what they want… Pope Idol. Hold open auditions and then let the public cast their vote (please note, that terrorist guy with the dodgy beard cannot apply!!).

Or Big Father… lock a load of priests in a church for 10 weeks and watch what they get up to. Add in a few challenges, and then get them to vote each other out, I’m thinking Father ted meets big brother.

You heard them here first, they are the comic genius working of Ross (the Father Ted bit is the only bit I can take credit for). So when you get pop bitch, or b3ta… they were pinched (although they’re mighty fine, so I’m not going to complain).

So… Day two… I almost forgot to mention that the Belgian drivers are a pain in the rear… and if you’re not careful, the way they pull out without any consideration for other drivers, you’ll be a pain in their rear.

Anyway, moving swiftly on, we got up at the arse end of dawn (ie a bit later than Friday), to go up to the ring. We were lucky enough this time to get someone who lived local (and who was English), to show us up to the circuit before he buggered off back home.

So we get to the circuit and lo and behold it’s packed chock full of cars (yes I know, like dur, it’s a racing circuit), but not just any cars… we had arrived at our holy shrine, the shrine of the car. Porsche’s, Beamers, Mercs, Honda’s, Subby’s, Renaults, Chrysler’s… you just had no idea where to put your eyes, it was very overwhelming and my eyes ended up hurting from darting them around like a shifty burglar.

We were feeling rather chicken, and said we weren’t going to go out. Didn’t want to wreck the car and after we’d been told someone had bashed their car into the Armco barrier the day before and it cost them ?2000 to have the Armco replaced (let alone whatever their car cost). So off we strolled to see if we could get the ring taxi to take us out.
NB - yes there is a taxi that goes around the circuit, it’s totally mad; the drivers must be on something, I’d say pure petrol.
Ended up having to scratch that idea, as we get there and, it’s booked solid with Germans (grr). So those plans out the window, we settle in to watch lots of cars racing up and down (timing them to see if they can beat Jeremy Clarkson’s record).

Vrrrm… grrr… screeeeeeeeeeeeech…. was the soundtrack to the morning. Until we get the announcement, it was in German so don’t ask me what it said, only it took us about 5 minutes to work out, they’d closed the track. Someone had a slight incident somewhere on the racetrack and well, the only thing going out were vehicles with flashing lights, and sirens. I was being particularly morbid and didn’t want to move until we’d seen how expensive the damage was… the boys disagreed with me and we ended up going… hmph.

The rest of the day was spent in the car for me as I ended up with indigestion so I watched the cars going around from the comfort of the car, while the boys went off in search of good photos. Which were achieved (coming soon to a new website near this one).

Here’s a tip for you, when in Germany, you never just order a glass of wine, I didn’t just that and got half the bottle and a goldfish bowl to drink it out of. Not that I’m complaining (like dur). Anyway, lets just say we, no make that I, got a little mullered. During the course of this we did have great fun baiting some Germans (the restaurant we went to were none to pleased to have English tourists in it), I found that a little un-fair, and in hind sight should have suggested we got there at 6am, left our towels there then buggered off for the day. Give them a taste of their own medicine.

The rest of the evening was spent watching the men watch the ladies wandering around Koblenz old town. Fun… oh, no, wait, I’m lying… I ended up doing a very good impression of a bitch, on no, I’ve done it again, I’m lying, I’m a natural at bitch.

Coming up next Sunday (aka the day we played Grand Turismo for real, or day 3