Nick's Blog
In the Blog Hole
22/2/2006 @ 11:28
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Sorry I've been a bit quiet of late, but me and wifey have been moving house this week. Even though we're moving from lovely upmarket Belsize Park to....a flat around the corner in lovely upmarket Belsize Park, there's been a ton of packing, unpacking and lifting to be done.
I'm not quite the house moving expert my wife is...for instance, I will spend hours making sure the CD's, paper plates and back issues of Radio Times are well padded and in secure crates whilst I leave her to put things like clothes and furniture away. But someone has to do these tasks.
On another note, I've recently developed a habit of saying "wind" after I belch and fart, which REALLY annoys wifey. I don't say "pardon" or "excuse me" anymore; I go "PAAAARRRRPPPPPP! Wind". Where this response came from, I do not know. It's now a miniature quest to rewrite the rules on bodily ettiquette that I have single-handedly taken on. I know I really shouldn't do it, but that destructive urchin in me can't help it.
Maybe you can help my quest by saying "wind" after you fart and belch...maybe it's time for the lexicon of manners to change!
Blog Beauty
14/2/2006 @ 14:42
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Women, eh? Women, eh? What do you do about them? What doooooooooo you do about them?
Wifey is on at me these days about my hand gestures. What's that about? Apparently, she objects to me doing "camp hands" as she calls it. This is where I point something out or make a sweeping gesture with my hands and according to her, it's a bit limp wristed. This is according to her, mind, and not linked to reality. But sometimes, in the world of the wife, reality takes a back seat to perception. So I might be pointing out a particularly nice shade of pastel lavender coloured toilet paper (quilted, of course) or some quince flavoured organic jam and she will berate me for pointing with camp hands! As if I could be accused of being camp!
Then, she's taken objection to me resting my hands on my belly from time to time. I call it my "Napoleon pose" but she says I resemble a pregnant woman more. To cap it all, I was slouched on the sofa the other night, trying to watch CSI: Miami ("OK, be on the look out for an Eastern European man with bad teeth who possibly has access to an ape") when she points at me and says "what is that you're doing with your hands?"...a purely rhetorical question as she can see perfectly well that I'm just resting my right hand twixt nipple and stomach. I am then forced, on pain of nagging until I jump out of a window, to move my hand to a far more uncomfortable position just because Wifey likes me to look more manly whilst stretched out on a sofa.
It's always the little things they chip away at you.
Blog's your uncle
08/2/2006 @ 14:48
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Ugh, still got a cold but at least I'm not claiming it's flu, unlike 90% of men in my position.
Anyway, last night I took some flu capsules (what? What? You can still take flu capsules even with a cold, you know!) and settled down to sleep. At 2am I was woken up by a loud knocking on my door. When I opened it, 2 men with Ministry of Defence ID cards were standing on my doorstep.
"Mr. Hughes, come with us please, it's a matter of national urgency"
"Hang on, let me get dressed first"
"We have clothes for you in the car, sir"
"I must have a shower and freshen up first"
"We have a small shower plus a travel toothbrush in the car sir, please come with us right now"
So I didn't have much choice. I was taken to the car, had a shower, brushed my teeth (and flossed), got dressed and was then blindfolded and taken to an airfield where I was bundled onto a plane. Although I wasn't able to see, I calculated where I was headed and my destination from the distance travelled, the time it took and by feeling the rays of the dawn warming my cheek. The drone of the engines indicated I was on board a BAe VC-10, and from the sound of children playing, a sheep being shot and someone playing the bagpipes I could work out that my destination was none other RAF Mackrihanish on the Mull of Kintyre.
I was taken indoors and the blindfold was removed. I was in a large conference room. Seated around a large table was The Prime Minister, The Foreign Secretary, Dr. John Reid, General Sir Mike Jackson, Chief of General Staff, The First Sea Lord, Marshall of the RAF and the Commandant of the Royal Marines. Also sat around that table was Lord Bragg, Sir Tom Stoppard, Joan Bakewell and former Tottenham Hotspur striker, Mark Falco.
"Ah, Mr Hughes...glad you could join us" said the Prime Minister "we need your help"
General Jackson stood up and looked me in the eye "Hughes, we have a problem. This is our monthly book group meeting. We're discussing 'East of Eden' by John Steinbeck and we want your opinion."
"Ah, yes, Steinbeck's flawed semi-autobiographical masterpiece concerning the fortunes of the Hamilton and Trask families in the Salinas area of California. As far as I can tell, the main crux of the story concerns young Cal Trask's strained relationship with his father and models itself on the Cain an Abel story from the bible. Where Cal's story departs from the story of Cain is that Cal finally achieves forgiveness from his father. Thus the story turns from tragedy to triumph"
A huge sigh of relief echoed in the room as the assembled committee raised their eyes and arms in acknowledgement.
"I thought as much" said the Prime Minister "anyway, sorry to have troubled you like this. I'll have my people take you home now" and with that I was ushered out of the room. On the way out, I couldn't help but notice the cadaver of an alien being and some fantastical machinery in a room next door. The PM suddenly stood in the doorway, interposing his body between me and the room. "Ah, yes, well, just pretend you didn't see that. Byeeeeeeeee" and with a wave of his hand I was taken back to the plane.
I was taken home and returned to a blissfull slumber. When I awoke I realised it had been all a dream. Oh well, I made myself a cup of tea and went to the office...only to find a copy of "East of Eden" on my desk.
But this is merely just fancy...It couldn't possibly happen could it? COULD IT? Or could it?
Blog cabin
06/2/2006 @ 17:16
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Would you believe it...the day of the official Rhubba.com release and I come down with a cold. About now, I feel like crap, but then again I've always had strange cravings when I'm ill.
The cold has led me to have a slight sense of humour bypass...not good when you're launching a comedy site. On another forum I'm a member of, some guy checked out the site and said on the noticeboards of this other site "Dude, it's as funny as a housebrick...less 'cause a housebrick ain't supposed to be funny". I'm being judicious to this guy; he didn't use the apostrophe on 'cause and ain't when he wrote it. Generally speaking, I switch off listening to someone when they begin a sentence with "dude". Anyway, I've asked him to revisit this site when we have our housebrick special tribute in April.
Blog on the landscape
03/2/2006 @ 08:59
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Time was when at the end of a BBC comedy or drama you would hear over the end credits:
"William Gaunt is currently appearing in 'When Did You Last See Your Trousers?' at the Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith"
...and if you hurry, you'll be able to see him. They don't do this anymore, and I can't remember when the practice stopped or why. Did the BBC fall out with theatre producers across the land or is it that you're unlikely to hear
"Robson Greene is currently appearing in 'Uncle Vanya' at the Marlowe Theatre, Canterbury"
I think they should bring back the thesp plug on end credits, but reflect what they'd be acutally doing in between their TV gigs
"Jesse Wallace is currently appearing as the Drunken Driver in 'Metropolitan Police v Jesse Wallace', Chiswick Crown Court"
"Ross Kemp is currently appearing in St. Thomas' Casualty Department in the part of Battered Husband"
"Patrick Kielty is currently appearing to be falling down some stairs, after a night out"
Blog Trotter
02/2/2006 @ 10:05
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For Christmas I was given a fitness DVD. Not just any fitness DVD with celebrities, fads and patronising left, right and centre. This one appealed to me right from the word go....
"TOTAL FITNESS"
Notice that? TOTAL fitness. Not just "get fit in 6 weeks" or "feel fitter, better, healthier" but TOTAL FITNESS. TOTAL. FITNESS. Imagine just how fit that is! Total.
"THE 5BX PLAN"
I like the sound of that already. It conjured up images of mad scientists, Robert Ludlum novels and secret formulas. Maybe I only needed to imbibe some potion and I'd be fit. Totally.
"DEVELOPED BY THE ROYAL CANADIAN AIR FORCE"
It just gets better, doesn't it? I mean, the Canadians seem fitter than most people on the Earth; outdoorsy types who do well in sports and let's not forget how rock hard they were in WW2. Ice Hockey, skiing, moose wrestling....that's quite fit and this is the Canadian Air Force! That's got to be fitter than ordinary Canadians who are already fitter than the rest of us. Added to that, it's Royal; the Royal seal of approval!
"NO EQUIPMENT NEEDED, NO WEIGHTS, NO MACHINES AND NO GYMNASIUMS; JUST SOME FLOOR SPACE"
...and it's going to be cheap to do as well!
"ONLY A 12 MINUTE WORK OUT A DAY"
Royal Canadian Air Force, I love you!
So I begin my excercise plan. You do a number of excercises within the 12 minutes depending on what level you're at. The higher the level, the more you have to do in that 12 minutes. I sail through the early levels, going up one each day. I start to become a fitness bore to my friends "oh yes, I'm on the 5BX plan...it's really helping me tone up". I start crushing aluminium drink cans in front of children, I have now started to talk like a character from an Italian dubbed sword and sandal movie. "I am totally fit!" I declare, clenched fists resting on my hips, chest puffed out. I am a paragon of fitness!
...until I got to level 8 that is. It'd been getting more exhausting once I got to level 7 and I was now thinking "could I take Russell Crowe in a fight now?". My first muscle was coming along nicely. Then, on the DVD I selected level 8 and did the work out. At the end I was ruddy faced, wheezing and crawling to the sofa to crash out and die when the DVD said "you have now reached the fitness target for age 6".
That's right, I had become as fit as a 6 year old child. Forget Russell Crowe, I couldn't even take on Mary Kate and Ashley in a fight. Or Webster. My ego came tumbling down, the Canadian Airforce (Royal) demanded more of me. Would I curl up and die? Would I give in and accept the fact that I was fair game for 6 year old hoods? No! I would carry on in the hope that one day I will be TOTALLY FIT! And do you know what...I'm now as fit as a 9 year old.
