New Year's Day (unwelcome) surprise

I got a New Year’s Day surprise today from my Boss, who ‘phoned up to let me know that my eBay manager job of the past four and a half years is being wrapped-up by the end of the month, so I’ve got the next three-and-a-bit-weeks before it’s finished, done, over, kaput, ended, etc...

Misfits: Curtis' time-rewind Easter egg

Misfits has just finished its second series run on E4 in the UK - including a bonus Christmas special episode for us all this year - and has left fans divided by its problematic storylines, unexpected hermeneutic codes and wormhole-like narrative subtexts, even to the point of infuriating some and elating others. However, regardless of these perceived differences, the show has managed to grip virtually everyone who watched the first episode way back in November 2009 and across just a twelve month, two series and 13 episode span, Misfits has grown to be the most exciting and life-affirming show on British TV, period.

Dental plan

Last week sometime, I had to pop and do some shopping into my local supermarket and so, after a protracted time spent fondling nets of Satsumas and trying to decipher the ‘best before’ dates on half cucumbers and round lettuces, a sit down at my local cafe seemed the perfect remedy. Finding an empty table inside, I ordered a cup of coffee and a bacon butty from the young girl behind the counter and then sat down to peruse the morning paper I’d picked-up while shopping. As I begin to scan the pages, I became aware of two lads sat just across from me and they epitomised the appearance of the poverty-stricken youth of today: each was wearing a dark, hooded jacket, shell bottoms and trainers, with shaven heads finishing off the look. They must have been aged in their late teens or early twenties at a push and one of them was telling a profanity-laden story whilst the other listened, nonchalantly.

Council Tax blues (slight return)

My previous blog entry regarding late Council Tax payment and the subsequent red letter threatening me with court - see "Council Tax blues" for more details - garnered me with a comment from ‘Oldham John’ (not his real name, methinks!) and even though I pay just £13 a month due to being employed part-time, this stalwart of the community dished up some choice words for me to ruminate over. I reprint his message below, verbatim:

I can't get no Enlightenment satisfaction

With last week’s blizzard whiteout stretching the length and breadth of the nation, I was obviously unable to use my bike for travelling to work and had to resort to flexing my boot soles back on terra firma for the first time a while. Of course, this consists of trudging an eight mile round trip just so I can saviour working in subzero temperatures within a forty foot metal container with no heating, a fantastic experience I suggest everyone should sample at least once in their lives before they die from the onset of pneumonia. Ah, the need to earn money and survive in a consumerist dream world, balanced against developing a life-threatening disease if you choose to work!

Secrets found within a lost mobile phone...

Being of a certain age (and the less said about this the better) I can recall living through both my pre- and post- teenage years in a less technologically-advanced time period than that of today’s youth, who are unconsciously intertwined with the microcosm of their existence through everyday virtual knowledge. This self-educational data is attained via the solid-state worlds of the internet, mobile ‘phones and computers and is a place where the kids all dwell without a care in the world, safe in the knowledge that old has-beens like me may be able to browse a website or two but this is where our cursory skills abruptly stop (oh, hang on a minute!).

More snowfall and the UK media frenzy starts again...

Winter has arrived in the blink of an eye again across the UK - and specifically my northern enclave of greater Manchester - swamping all with its chilled blanket of ice crystals and bringing the whole of civilisation to a standstill because of an overnight snow sprinkle. This happened last year at virtually the same time and I wrote then (see "Christmas, New Year & the Big Freeze" for more details) about the absolute uselessness of our culture to perform the most mundane tasks when faced with nothing more than fluffy-white, frozen water descending from the skies. It is certainly a worry to look back at how the machinations of a world power crumbled because of a lack of Cheshire rock salt but we learnt from those mistakes, didn’t we...? Well, no...

On your daily bike

As I bike to and from work each and every day, I have ample time to observe the minutiae of everyday life unfolding before my weary, weather-buffeted eyes in all its unusual and unexpected ways. Most of the time I ride quickly past certain events and happenings without showing any more interest than a quick side glance across or the break of a smirk upon my face; just occasionally however, I do feel a need to stop and offer a helping hand, and this is what happened just the other day as I cycled back from work during a cold morning sprinkled with winter’s first frosts.

Council Tax blues

One of the most dreaded postal arrivals throughout the UK is the yearly Council Tax bill. Arriving each April, this soul-destroying, single piece of A4 paper is concisely broken down into barely-manageable monthly payments of such magnitude that all across our fair country, people are living with a form of social schizophrenia induced by its financially-crippling brevity. How much we individually pay is dependent upon which band your property has been squeezed into and how many are dwelling inside your house at one time or another; whether these denizens happen to be employed or not is a moot point to these ‘State Shylocks’ because unemployment benefits of some kind will fill the monetary void, thus keeping everyone happy.

Playing the eBay buying game, again… Pt 2

So there I was, bereft of my new Asus 1001HA laptop due to it going missing in mid-transit: a transit, I may add, that I had had to organise myself due to the seller being a complete simpleton and not having the postage money until he’d transferred my PayPal payment into his bank account many days in the future. After speaking to the lads at Interlink Express late Tuesday, I was informed again there still wasn’t any further scanning of my item in their system, so the festering hate continued to rise within me, much like a hangover’s bubbling bile rise.