February 2003 Archives - wibbler.com

New Phone

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So, after its 32nd accidental drop in a year, I’ve upgraded my phone. The poor thing was barely able to keep all it’s broken bits together – the screen was grazed, the battery wobbled, and the next step up, a Nokia 6310i, was looking exceeedingly cheap. I waltzed in to Carphone Warehouse, and met Michelle’s friend the manager, angling for a cheap ‘mate’s rate’ deal. All manner of other phones were on offer, some probably better than the Nokia, but I refused, reminding them that I needed one that fitted my integrated carphone. Replacing that would cost another ?150, and spare money is not in abundance at the moment. So, after a while of comparing, we plumped for the one I originally wanted, and left the building. I was very pleased. I reached my car, jumped in, and slotted it into the carphone holder.
Which, unaccustomed to the new phone, promptly broke.

Financial Excitement and updated SMS Vault

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Woo HOOOOOO! For the first time since 1997, I’ve managed to get to the end of the month without exceedingly my overdraft limit, and without using any of my credit cards. Mainly because Michelle’s confiscated them, but it’s a start. To celebrate, I’ve uploaded more amusing text messages in the SMS Vault, mainly from master of comedy Jac. I’m up to July 2002 now – only 8 months of SMS messages to go then…

Cold Feet midget

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A new series of Cold Feet has started on ITV1 and who should be resident imaginary midget (you’ll probably have to watch it to understand what the hell I’m on about) but a bloke I used to meet in my local pub. He used to be an Ewok in Star Wars too, you know…

wibbler.com – dead?

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My mum was discussing websites at supper tonight. “Your site,” she asked, “is it, you know, is it… dead?”
Now, I’ll be the first to admit to lagging slightly on my updates. I’m a busy man (stop laughing in the back there). But dead? Surely not. *humph* And just to make sure, here’s another post for you 1500 visitors a month, plus some highlights on the right and a revamped menu.
So there.

London. Oh the Fun.

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I asked Gary C today how the transport was in London, now that the congestion charge had kicked in. “Great,” he replied, “no problems.” I was surprised. Until he finished off, “Apart from the normal ones, that is.”

And that’s the problem. I’ve written before about why I really wouldn’t want to work in London. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an amazing place – the buildings, the history, the events, it all contributes to one of the great tourist cities in the world.

But tourists don’t stay. It’s great to visit and see the sites, but working there at the moment is entirely different. It’s a daily battle of wits, loosely based around a hilariously ironic “integrated transport scheme”. You try the tube – three lines have been closed for a month and a half and the trains and tracks are so old they’re falling to bits. You try the trains – the fares have rocketed, most of them arrive late, and they’re packed. You try the car – the roads were full, and now you have the congestion charge – a charge which forces people down the broken tubes and onto the extortionate trains. You try the ever growing terrorist threats.
And a lot of people just accept it. I hope it’ll get better, but at the moment a lot of people I know hate working there, and are trying to get jobs away from the capital.
I, meanwhile, work in Guildford. There are no transport chaos, no closed lines, no rising crime rate, relatively affordable accomodation (well, compared to London), and it’s a town that’s big enough to be known, and small enough to be a community.
Splendid.

Site Development

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Well, some much needed tweaking done to the site tonight – the Comment Leaderboard is back with a vengence but with the same top commenter (you’ll see it down the left hand side) and the guestbook is back online! Tremendous. Oh, and on a pointless whim I’ve made the apple tagline oh-so-cleverly change on each visit… And with that, I’m off to bed.

The Eagle

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For once, I was early for work. It was 8.30am, and the local Guildford radio station The Eagle was conducting its breakfast show from a bed in the window of Furniture Village. Peter Gordon, the main presenter, is someone I’ve met quite a few times and got on quite well with, being a similarly plump bloke who went to the same school as I did. He was dressed in a pink nightie. Bev, his sidekick, was in a little blue checked number. I envy their job – talk into a microphone for 4 hours a day, and go on special trips to a bed. I passed the shop several times, as a fox would check out its prey before launching into a shop and wrecking a radio broadcast. If it weren’t a fox. As I passed the shop, I frantically waved at the presenters, looking as if i may have been having a mild epileptic fit. Unnerved, they waved back. Encouraged, I parked my car at the next available lamp post and manoevred myself into the store. The mid-advertisement link had just finished, and as the two presenters turned their attention to my nervous figure, I began to feel a little ill. What if they wanted to interview me as a fan? What if I managed, in my utter shock, to let slip an expletive or two? All, of a sudden, Peter burst into life. “And look who we have here, a fellow Cranleigh School-er, come and say a few words.” Christ, this was it. Onlooking eyes burnt into me as I strolled to the bedside cabinet, bent down into the microphone, and commented in my best radio voice, “Looking good Peter, in a rather unmanly way.” And then I forgot to think. Pointing at his sidekick Bev, I remarked, “You’ve been wanting to get into bed with her for a while, I’d have thought.”
And that was it, cut off in my prime, as I was about to launch into a new career as a radio DJ and take the world by storm.

Bananas and Coconuts

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“Did you know,” piped up Zoe, breaking the stony silence in the staff room, “that bananas are an amazing thing?” We didn’t, which was lucky as she then went on to explain all manners of uses for the humble, globally declining fruit. “you can rub them on yourself to cure all sorts of things, cuts, sores, itchy legs, anything.” This was a surprise to us all. “Yes, it can do all sorts of things, a really amazing thing.”
Then silence. We all thought we’d heard the last of Zoe’s facts. Slowly, seconds passed.
Suddenly, Zoe’s face lit up. “But not as amazing as a coconut.”
This latest revelation sent us all into fits of giggles. I always try to go to lunch when she’s there – you learn all sorts of things in an hour. Apparently, coconuts can be used as food AND water, you can make rope from it’s hairy outside bits, and you can do all sorts of other things I can’t remember.
So, there you go. I could say it was a “fruit”-ful lunch hour. But I won’t.