Ironing (cont.)

February 27, 2006

Sunday: In between “Time Team” and “24”…

I ironed twelve (that’s one dozen) work shirts*.

Twelve.

After a further two-and-a-half hours of ironing… God I was bored.

*There were other things too, t-shirts and trews etc.

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Hands like a washer-woman

February 25, 2006

They say a man’s work is never done or somesuch and today has been all about that!

Having felt a bit like The Shat on a Hot Tin Roof (a pun/play on words which doesn’t truly work as I am trying to convey a sense of illness) over the last few days I figured my best bet this weekend was to do nothing. Take it easy, lay in, kick back.

The day started well. I slept, which is a novelty when compared with the rest of the week. And I guess I managed to get out of bed at about 10:30, so a fairly decent lie-in. Followed that up swiftly with some coffee and an apple and a sit down in front of the zombie-box for a watch of Tony Scott’s film “Domino”, which I thought was going to be just-slightly-less-than-a-bunch-of-shite. And to be honest it’s not a great film, but it is a good film. Some really great turns by the majority of the lead actors. Mickey Rourke proving he’s excellent at playing the same character over and over again. He’s an uglier version of Bruce Willis really. Always in a dirty vest, covered in blood shooting at people, but he’s just not as pretty as Brucie. Of course, the only thing that was asked of Keira Knightly was to look like a stroppy madam who’s bored of everything. May as well play to your strengths then love. I guess I recommend it as simple entertainment. And that leads me to suspect I’m getting soft in my old age.

Whilst the film was on, washing load one was in the machine. Film over: empty washing machine and shove another load in.

Meantime, tidy my bedroom and hoover up. Ah, my hoover. I think they only ever made one of these things. It’s bright green and most of the time tends to suck like an asthmatic in a vacuum. However there was this itch at the back of my brain and it eventually formed itself in to some words. And these words were a question. And this question was a jolly good one, as I couldn’t remember the last time I had.

Ten minutes later, having removed the hoover-bag and emptied out the rest of the machine which was clogged up with historical finds that the Time Team would like to have got their muddy mits upon, I suddenly found that my hoover could clean. Yes. My carpets can now be admired (so long as you don’t look too carefully) as being clean and fresh.

So, second load of washing finished, the third lot gets thrust into the machine and set off. This is when I go looking for my ironing board. Passing Indiana Jones on my way, I discover the ancient instrument of torture leaning up against the Ark of the Covenant. That is when the Ironing Marathon began, as did two-hours of “24”. Oh yes. It’s still as daft as Uncle Cyril, but worth every real-time minute. Having said that though, I have noticed that in this series they do seem to just occasionally piss the whole “real time” thing right out the window and hope we don’t notice.

Example: Jack’s in a lift. He’s on the top floor. He presses the button (lots of times in a very urgent manner as he’s a very busy man) and waits for the doors to close. Cut to Chloe who’s monitoring the other agents in the area. “Hurry up Jack!” she says. Cut back to Jack, he’s already on the second floor and out of the lift. No sign of trauma from the freefall drop he’s just experienced; no puddles of sick on the floor. Just grimly determined Jack. Bless him.

And that leads me to now. I’ve still got loads of ironing to do, but 3 hours’ worth is more that enough to cope with in one day. And, unlike all the nice things in life, it’ll still be there tomorrow. With today’s washing added to it.

Bast.


when boredofjam = boredoflife

February 21, 2006

The curious thing about being (a) bored and (b) evil and (c) a member of the previously-mentioned hotornot.com site means that this little equation was eventually going to fall out of the twisted calculator that is my mind:

a+b+c = clicking on the “unsuitable” link at the bottom of the pictures of all women I don’t find attractive
(where the “unsuitable” link is to be used to report pornography or other inappropriate pictures)

I guess this makes me >= (b)^2


Loud gig…

February 20, 2006

So loud, in fact, I have no idea who these ladies are*:


[Pic: A man afloat in a sea of loveliness]

*a blatant and obvious lie. See – I do (on occasion) smile.

The Two Happy Fathers

February 20, 2006

[Pic: Mr and Mr Boredofjam and their recently adopted daughter,
with apologies to Nic for the slight to her husband’s mightily manly heterosexuality
]


Possibly the best night in the world

February 19, 2006

Been to the Railway pub for a gig and a few pints.

In many ways tonight has been one of the finest a man could ever desire. So good in fact, I dare not write about it for fear of wetting myself.

Dear reader – that is all.


Hmm, a wise guy, huh?

February 16, 2006

Is it me or do orange Smarties not taste of orange any more?

The only reason I ask is that I’m shovelling a large bag of the damned things down my throat at the moment and I’m not discerning any real taste difference between a green one, or a red one, or the once-legendary orange ones.

ooh.. but wait… maybe… just the teeniest little hint of something there… oh, gone. Maybe not then.