Saturday, May 31, 2008

Zone 1 challenge, May 30th

End of May is traditionally the time for the annual Zone 1 competition - where tube challengers and potentials gather to race around the 64 underground stations in the Travelcard zone 1 in as quick a time as possible.

A mini challenge was organised for the Thursday evening before so myself, Jack and Olli decided to team up for it as a warmup. It was a designated Random 15 challenge - 15 stations from zones 1 & 2 would be drawn, and each of these would have to be visited at least once. Embankment was the only station revealed in advance as that was the meeting point and we gathered there to receive the other 14 stations. They were spread out over the two zones and bloody difficult - we plotted a route before leaving Embankment, but were beset by so much bad luck we abandoned after two and a half hours having only made it to 7 of the stations. After chasing three trains out of four stations (i.e. we made it to the platform as the train was leaving) we decided luck was not on our side and went to the pub instead.

Friday, after a good night's sleep, we met up with around 40 others at Oxford Circus, where the starting station would be drawn. The rules were run through while Jack and I were using the toilet, but as experienced challengers we didn't need to hear them. Thankfully Olli was still there and up to speed on what was going on. I'd warned him in advance that it was a lot faster paced than the Random 15 - "more running than your average Doctor Who episode" was how I phrased it. "Love the running" was his response and it became a catchphrase for the event between us three. Last year it was myself, Jack and Matt as "Team Subways" - due to circumstances changing (and billy lunn being an arrogant twat) Matt was in another team, so me and Jack ran with Olli under the team name "Frankie Goes To Chorleywood". The station was drawn, and despite my hopes that it would either be Archway (in zone 2/3) or Aldwych (closed since 1992) it turned out to be the bustling metropolis that is King's Cross St Pancras. Off we sodded there.

On the train up a route was rapidly drawn up, and then redrawn when we realised we'd missed off Goodge Street. I sought clarification as to one of the rules, which stated that you didn't need to leave on the first train leaving the station at 1pm - you could wait for the first one on your desired line. I used this to get a Hammersmith and City line train to Paddington - they're rarer than hen's teeth and by doing this at the start it meant we wouldn't be relying on getting one later in the route (ha!). I wasn't alone in doing this, as we had a fair few others getting on the train with us - including last year's winner John Stark. We made the mistake of chasing him through Paddington last year without realising he runs for fun, whereas we don't even run for food. He was handicapped this year by running with someone else, thus slowing him down. On arrival at Paddington I surprised everyone, not least myself, by leading the pack through the barriers and onto the mainline station platforms. Haring down platform 8 I realised once again that getting into shape would have been a wise idea, and was overtaken by Andi and Olli. At the barriers to the Bakerloo line platforms all our paper travelcards failed and we had to be let through the gate by the assistant - would we need this every time we breached the gateline?

Cunningly, when we got on the Bakerloo line train (which arrived at the platform at the same time that we did) we were going to the end of the line, so could sit and rest for a bit. By Oxford Circus we'd recovered and were raring to go again - at Elephant & Castle we shot off the train, and up to the Northern line platforms (far far shorter than I expected) to find a minute wait and an amused chap who asked if we were running round the entire Underground or something. "Something like that" we replied to his chuckle and a good luck. Jumping on the train we didn't bother sitting down, as we were only going two stops, and sprinted off at London Bridge to the Jubilee line - a long journey involving escalators I thought, but clever observation of the signs stopped Olli sprinting up a pair as I bellowed "LEFT!" to turn down to the Jubilee line corridor and make it to another 30 second wait for a train. Another two stops and to Waterloo, and the first escalator run (and second shortly after) which really, really kills the legs. Stumbling to find a Vauxhall train we jumped on one, and took advantage of the on train toilet as we didn't know when would be the next opportunity. A helpful South West Trains conductor told us the best place to get out for the exit and we jumped out, grateful that the platform was nearest the Underground barriers which handily were also open. Jumping down the steps to the underpass I stumbled but didn't fall and ran around slow walking commuters, high-fiving a fellow competitor on the way up to the trains.

We had a minor wait for a Victoria line train up to Euston - it turned out to be roastingly hot which didn't help our already damp clothes - and ran up more bloody escalators (love the running) to the City branch of the Northern line. A three minute wait here was annoying, but we had another intruiged passenger on the train who wanted to know what we were up to and also wished us luck. Leaving Moorgate we had nobody to run past until practically the Circle line platforms - a two minute wait here, then we got on a Hammersmith and City line train ("ha," we joked, "we won't need another today!") back up to King's Cross. This section of the tube is rare in zone 1 as it's almost open air - I took the opportunity to reply to Amie's text before we switched to the Piccadilly line. Running down six steps to the ticket hall I would've leapt onto and slid down the central bannister if there wasn't a whacking great information board at the bottom of it - probably a good thing as I could see myself coming a cropper and making a tit out of myself again. There was a train in so we leapt on it, and moved up to the right carriage at Russell Square.

Way back in November we went southbound on the Piccadilly line to Gloucester Road. Owing to an administrative cockup we got the end of the train wrong and had to run like the clappers down the platform to get the lifts - one of the many setbacks that day. Remembering that, I said we should sit at the front of the train, and recounted the above story with an air of smugness about me. Arriving in to Gloucester Road we looked out of the windows to see the Way Out signs all pointing towards the back of the train. Cillit Bang! Leaping out the train we raced down the platforms, and as I was running along the yellow line it meant that anyone else getting off would be in my way - like the Asian girl in carriage four who stepped out in front of me, causing me to suddenly change direction by 90 degrees (and I'm glad I was wearing newer trainers than the 7 year old pair I had on last year, else it would've been painful) to avoid her. We got to the lifts to find a queue, and somewhat rudely snuck our way to the front to get in the lift first. This backfired on us when we reached the surface to find the exit was the same pair of doors we came into the lift in (tube station lifts have doors both sides) and had to struggle through everyone to reach the sub-surface platforms. By the time we were there a District train to Upminster (our ideal connection) had closed its doors and was departing. Bad karma.

Luckily there was a Circle line train along one minute later, so I had time to take a picture of the panda, but it meant that we'd be doing the Aldgate run the wrong way round - from Aldgate to Aldgate East - and we'd be relying on a Hammersmith and City train there. By this time we'd passed the two hour mark and were looking shaky for a sub 3-hour time. At Aldgate we ran up the many steps to street level (love the running) and out, along the street. We hit a bit of a snag with the A1211 being in the way, but luckily found a subway and ran along it, showing it the proper courtesy and respect. Crossing two minor roads and dodging roadworks we got to Aldgate East, passing Matt who was going the other way, to find nothing on the boards. Cillit bang! A quick rewrite was in order, and we got a District train back to Tower Hill, where we crossed to get on the Circle line (only 94 seconds spent there) and visit Aldgate that way.

(An aside - rules state that a station is only visited if you enter or leave it via a London Underground train. Running back to Aldgate was not therefore an option - not least because it would've killed us.)

Through Aldgate we leapt out at Liverpool Street to reach the Central line platforms at about the same time as a Central line train, and jumped on ready to get to my favourite station (not), Tottenham Court Road. The thing about TCR is that the Central line platforms are so bloody far away from anything, and we ran dodging people to the Northern line platforms where a northbound train was waiting. A bit of luck for the Goodge Street doubleback, which ran out when we pulled in to see a southbound train leaving. 3 minutes til the next one, and the clichèd picture at Goodge Street taken. Back at Tottenham Court Road we had a two minute wait for a Central line train, which took us to Queensway and the final run of the day. Up the road, simple enough, except for one prat who jumped out on us and shouted "no running in the halls!" Had he jumped out a little bit further, I would've caught him a glancing blow on the jaw with my left shoulder, but I had to settle for smacking my wrist on a parking meter instead. At Bayswater the next train was a Circle line so we jumped on, checking the board for a District train following us. We had only three stations left, but a sub 3-hour time was out of the question - we wanted to settle for beating 3 hours 15 minutes.

The minutes ticked away, and we jumped off at High Street Kensington to a four minute wait and time ticking away. Tempted by the Oreo McFlurry adverts we pondered the nearest McDonalds, before remembering we went in one by Earl's Court station the previous night. The train finally arrived, and we reached Earl's Court to a final time of 3:16:23. After getting our McFlurries and posing with the tardis outside, we made our way to the pub (being one of the last to arrive) handed in our time and had a much deserved bottle of cider. The presentation began, and we won best team name (I was proud, especially as I've been sitting on that for months) and came an honourable 12th place out of 21. We were 10 minutes behind second, and I reckon that if we hadn't been rude in the lifts at Gloucester Road we would've had a much higher finish. Still, thoroughly enjoyed the day, as did Olli who can't wait for next year!

Blood Red Shoes - May 28th, London Forum

Way back when this gig was announced, Dana from my forum announced she'd be there too. Given that I don't want my board split into two factions (ex-Subways boardies and non-ex-Subways boardies) I thought I'd go and meet her; that she's not unattractive and is easy to talk to is merely a bonus. Katy came with me, and as Jack is a huge Maximo Park fan he bought a ticket and came too. It was shortly after 3 on a damp day that we arrived to see Jack was already quite friendly with the assorted hardcore fans already queuing, including a very ill Dana.

It was then that we realised a small flaw in my social plan - we were there only to see Dana, but she was there to see everyone, including the Maximo geeks. As such we were left kicking our heels for a bit (or would have been if we weren't sitting down) so switched to the old standby in such situations - drink! As me and Jack were getting drunker we got louder and bounced comments off each other, making others laugh and including them in the conversation. This included Charleh, who apparently we met at the LC! gig in Portsmouth, and her friend whose name I won't even attempt to type because it'll be wrong.

She was fitting in well, not least because she appeared to be Jack's female clone, despite being interested in the soft and squishy gender. Much like Jack is, thinking about it. I managed to marry Jack to both Dana and Charleh (internet ordaining is a wonderful thing) and I don't remember an awful lot else. I should really have done this writeup on Thursday lunchtime. I do recall drunkenly asking a tall guy in a grey suit where to go for a quick slash - this turned out to be the lead singer from Mystery Jets, who were also supporting - and two doors down I bumped into a cute girl with short blonde hair who I recognised (thankfully not the psychotic tory) but wasn't sure where from.

Inside the gig we got down the front, owing to being first in the queue, and witnessed an utterly bland set from Pete and the Pirates. There were too many Petes and not enough Pirates, so I amused myself by shouting out "yarrrrr!" and "shiver me timbers!" much too often. BRS were up next, and ran through a similar set to the previous tour (different banter though). Due to time running short they missed the penultimate song which I'm grateful for - the gig was a charity gig and the song they dropped was Say Something Say Anything. I don't think that I could've kept my composure.

After their set was finished I was ready to go home but Katy wanted to see Mystery Jets, so we stayed. Jack and Charleh bonded even further, becoming one, and as the band came on I realised that the lead singer had directed me for my urination earlier. Their set was enjoyable, and when they brought out a guest for what turned out to be the last song of their set I realised that the short blonde was Laura Marling, which was a turnup for the books.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Peace in our train

I've inadvertantly managed to get myself peace and quiet on a train journey, and disgust an entire carriage of people.

Sat here quietly listening to Pink Floyd (my route into London takes me round the base of Battersea Power Station) I was rudely interrupted at Gillingham when a fairly well to do mother with her two little "princesses" got on and sat on the table behind me. Now, the one thing that little girls do that I can't stand (apart from playing the recorder-if they'd started doing that this blog would involve piano wire) is squeal. And boy, did this pair squeal. Getting pissed off with this I muttered to myself "for the love of Joss, if they don't shut up I'll unleash the paedophiles".

Now, I don't know about your good self, but when I'm listening to my music, I tend to speak (and sing) louder than normal. Unfortunately they chose that moment to pause to draw breath.

"What?!? How dare you say that? Come on Eileen and Dexy, we're not sitting anywhere near this...filth!"

Temporarily bemused as to why the braying sheep had suddenly turned into a Kentish harridan, I didn't realise that I was talking out loud until I turned off my music to silence from everyone else. Never one to miss a trick I said "well, at least we'll get some peace, eh?" before burying my face in my paper.

Writeup of BRS, lesbians, tube challenges and emo marches to come on Saturday night after Doctor Who, I'm writing this on my pda and my thumbs hurt.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

The Subways

Hello. I expect you're wondering why this post has suddenly appeared, given that I'm not online, I'm actually up in London. Well, I'm testing the "post in the future" feature on Blogger, and saving myself some effort by writing up the gig now.

Yes, I know I'm actually at the gig at the moment. But it's pretty obvious what the write up is going to be, isn't it? Blah blah blah acoustic gig blah blah blah different blah blah blah new stuff is average blah blah blah probably sounds better on record blah blah blah courtesy and respect.

Johnny Foreigner, King's College

So, up to London, and a half day off work so I can do some reconnaissence for the upcoming zone 1 challenge.

Well, in theory anyway.

I'd planned a route checking out the interchanges at Vauxhall, Waterloo, London Bridge, Elephant & Castle, Paddington, King's Cross, Moorgate and Liverpool Street stations. The first up was Vauxhall, running (nay, sprinting) from the Victoria line platforms (making note that the second set of doors in the carriage would have been a better choice) up the escalators, through the pedestrian subway, up the stairs to the surface level, through the barriers at the mainline station, underneath all 8 lines to the far platform, and up the stairs to the platform. As I ascended this final part I passed someone rushing to get a train; I muttered "race you" to her not expecting her to actually be competitive. I made it to the platform just ahead of her, taking 1 minute and 27 seconds to do platform to platform, but my left leg gave out and I flopped onto the train most ungainly.

At Waterloo I was intending to time the run from train to Jubilee line platforms, but I quickly altered my plan and sat with a bottle of water against the statue of that painter fellow, in front of the old Eurostar platforms. Sitting there, watching the world go by, admiring the sun glinting off the Victory arch, I decided that on such a nice sunny day the last thing I wanted to do was spend it underground. Firing up Google Maps on my BT ToGo Phone (plug) I decided to go for a wander in the general direction of the King's College box office to pick up my Johnny Foreigner ticket.

Walking through Shell House and the Jubilee gardens, passing the London Eye I remembered days of yore where my family would come up to London for the Lord Mayor's Show, stay for the fireworks on the Thames in the evening and stand on the South Bank watching them, listening to the final scores on Radio 5 Live as it was normally taking place on F.A Cup first round day. This reminded me of the huge great second hand book sale that was usually found underneath Waterloo Bridge and so I headed off to investigate. Passing the Royal Festival Hall and Hayward Gallery (described on Wikipedia as "a good example of Brutalist architecture" - if it was a women, even after ten pints you'd still say no) I walked down by the river enjoying my ice cream cone to the book sale.

It was rather disappointing, actually, and I saved my money for the large Oxfam charity bookshop in Canterbury. My enjoyment was partly spoiled by the large amounts of loud youths enjoying the sunshine and being rambunctuous - I cycled through my weapon supply looking for a melee weapon such as a flamethrower or gatling gun before realising that this was actually real life and not Grand Theft Auto, so left them to it and walked across Waterloo Bridge (avoiding foreign men with umbrellas). I found, disappointingly, that I still had two hours to kill before the box office opened so I decided to have dinner at the Walkabout pub enveloping Temple station. As I'd be dining alone I thought a magazine might be a wise idea (else I'd be really bored) and headed off to Oxford Street to see if there were any decent imported magazines in stock.

After a roasting hot Bakerloo line journey (made bearable only by the slightly chestier Ellen Page lookalike sat next to me) I made it to an Oxford Street that was noticably quieter than usual. Wondering if I'd gone deaf (and why there was no traffic about) I walked towards Borders to find a large area cordoned off by the police. As I'd stayed round Katy's the night before I hadn't read the morning paper so grabbed a free paper off a vendor who was clearly relishing the old "extra, extra" cliche of yore - "get today's London paper, read all about what happened here in this very spot yesterday!" - and I found out about the stabbing. I ventured off along the pavement on the other side of the road, with the open shops, to see if HMV could give me something to read. Popping in to H&M to see if they had any Batman t-shirts, I found that the first floor windows (almost opposite the fateful McDonalds) was crammed full of people taking pictures of the scene. Outside one woman was videotaping it and providing a commentary. Disgusted with humanity I gave up and went back to get some dinner, grabbing the other freesheet on the way.

Possibly because it's an Australian pub and therefore catering to ex-pats, it was actually warmer inside the pub than outside. I finished my unappetising burger and went and sat on a bench facing the Thames outside. Due to its position overlooking the river and its age the wooden slats had plenty of give in them; this made them rather comfortable and I was reluctant to leave. Having finished the freesheets I once again took to caning the hell out of the unlimited bandwidth on my ToGo phone (another plug), keeping up to date on my board and poking people back on Facebook. Getting bored of this and realising that I'd want to buy a t-shirt to replace the one I left on the train after the last JoFo gig, I headed off in search of a cash point. I eventually found one, outside City Thameslink station (the only railway station in Zone 1 I've never been into - quite why I didn't break this duck yesterday I honestly don't know).

Back at the venue and I had a pleasent surprise when I found out that JoFo were supporting, not headlining, which meant I'd get an early night. The first band on were from Norway and called The Lionheart Brothers - I've deliberately not linked to their MySpace as the recordings don't do them justice. Five blokes, loud guitars, a very proggy sound. It drew me away from the seats where I was sat watching the sun set over Waterloo (I don't need to spell out every single song reference for you, do I?) and I thoroughly enjoyed them. JoFo didn't let me down either. Despite the overabundance of dry ice making it hard to see Junior on drums, the band got everyone dancing with a cracking opening of Champagne Girls I Have Known and The End (And Everything After). The swirling mist, harsh lighting and crap camera made it difficult to get any decent pictures so I just settled for dancing (well, trying to) and enjoying the set. After Eyes Wide Terrified and a new song that had been written while on the road, Alexis announced "this next song is called Cranes and Cranes and Cranes and if we see you singing along then we know you've downloaded the album and we hate you" - cue laughter and a shout of "what if we downloaded the London Calling set?".

They finished up with Sofacore, a b-side to Eyes Wide Terrified which has Burlesque in the title, and Yr All Just Jealous. I exchanged a few words with Kelly as I bought another JoFo tee and left, heading back to Victoria. As I walked down the stairs at Temple I saw a train waiting on the platform; hearing the doors closing chime I ran down the stairs and threw myself into an empty carriage, whacking my shoulder on the cental pole (damn District line stock) and feeling the door close behind my boot. Relived to have made the train I realised I was subsequently at the wrong end for the exit at Victoria and jumped out at Embankment to dash along the platform to the right door.

I made my train at Victoria with enough time to get some food and the current issue of Classic Rock, and I sat down at a table and started relaxing. As the train filled up someone sat diagonally opposite me, and I made room for him. Then a city gent took the seat next to me, moved my magazine out the way so he could read his broadsheet, and shoved my jacket (of which a small part of the sleeve was in the gap between the seats, the rest tucked behind me) up out the way so he could move the seating arm down. This display of rudeness pissed me off, especially when he harumphed (yes, he actually made that noise) when I got a text from Dana and my phone wooped, in a Zoidberg fashion. So I fought back, with the low level annoyance only a Tong can master. I snicked at everything in Classic Rock (even the obituaries) and, inspired by the Velvet Revolver cover story, decided to listen to Appetite for Destruction on my mp3 player. Loudly. By the time he left at Gillingham he was glaring evilly at me, and the other fellows around me laughed when I turned my music off, put my phone on silent and settled down to enjoy myself.

And and and, I managed to remember my t-shirt this time, so will be resplendent in it at tonight's gig.

Friday, May 09, 2008

Why I rather like my job

Last Thursday we had an advisor forum, which was basically one advisor from each team met with T (the centre manager who looks like Maggie Gyllenhaal but with lighter hair - actually, I could end this blog post here and it would justify the title) to raise any issues they have. I was nominated by my team as I'm not one to shy away from complaining about issues. I raised the point that D seems to be the go-to guy for all advisors whenever they have an easily solvable query, or any escalations which should really go to their own manager in the first instance. She told me to get our team to start challenging other advisors, asking them why they're coming to Dejorn and not their own manager.

So we've been doing it all week, and it's working well. However. There's one fat bint who kept coming over. On Wednesday I saw her walk past another manager, exchange brief conversation and then come to D. I stood between her and my manager and called her on it, asked her what the other managers said when she asked them first. She replied that she hadn't seen any others, and I told her that I'd seen her talking to Amanda on her way over. I pointed out that she was cutting into our investment time with her manager and that she should leave him alone. She mumbled something and went. I learned today that she then raised a complaint to Manpower (the agency that the new employees work for - stupidly, as I'm with the company and have been for nearly a year) about my rudeness which was then passed to T, who fully defended my actions - she knows I'm not a rude person, and I'm looking out for my team as that fat bitch has been cutting in to our investment time.

Also in this complaint the young girl in question added "I wasn't polite to him myself, I admit I told him to fuck off" which I didn't hear, but T is now looking to get rid of her as she "doesn't want people like that in her call centre". Double win! I was pleased that I had the full backing of my team and centre managers, but slightly disappointed that they're punishing her - it's been ages since I waged a low-level war of annoyance against someone and I was really, really looking forward to it!

EDIT: Removed a potentially job-losing word after one of the people mentioned above came across this blog

Friday, May 02, 2008

A letter to London

Good evening, London.

I thought it time we had a little talk. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...I suppose you're wondering why I've called you here this evening. Well, you see, I'm not entirely satisfied with your performance lately...I'm afraid your work's been slipping and...and well, I'm afraid we've been thinking about letting you go. Oh, I know, I know. You've been with the company a long time now. Almost...let me see. Almost ten thousand years! My word, doesn't time fly? It seems like only yesterday...I remember the day you commenced your employment, swinging down from the trees, fresh-faced and nervous, a bone clasped in your bristling fist..."Where do I start, sir?" You asked, plaintively. I recalled my exact words: "There's a pile of dinosaur eggs over there, youngster," I said, smiling paternally all the while. "Get sucking."

Well, we've certainly come a long way since then, haven't we? And yes, yes you're right, in all that time you haven't missed a day. Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Also, please don't think I've forgotten about your outstanding service record, or about all of the invaluable contributions that you've made to the company...Fire, the wheel, agriculture..It's an impressive list, old-timer. A jolly impressive list. Don't get me wrong. But...well, to be frank, we've had our problems too. There's no getting away from it. Do you know what I think alot of it stems from? I'll tell you...It's your basic unwillingness to get on in the company. You don't seem to want to face up to any real responibility. To be your own boss. Lord knows you've been given plenty of opportunities... We've offered you promotion time and time again, and each time you've turned us down. "I couldn't handle the work, Guv'Nor," You wheedled. "I know my place." To be frank, you're not trying are you? You see, you've been standing still for far too long, and its starting to show in your work.

Really, its not good enough, is it? And its no good blaming the drop in work standards on and management either...though to be sure, the management is very bad. In fact, let us not mince words...The Management is terrible! We've had a string of embezzelers, frauds, liars, and lunatics making a string of catastrophic decisions. This is plain fact. But who elected them? It was you! You who elected these people! You who gave them the power to make your decisions for you! You have encouraged these malicious incompetents, who have made your working life a shambles. You have accepted without question their senseless orders. You have allowed them to fill your workspace with dangerous and unproven machines. You could have stopped them. All you had to say was "No." You have no spine. You have no pride. You are no longer an asset to the company.

Any parallels between the Conservative government and the fascist Norsefire from V for Vendetta are purely coincidental. Honest.

Band t-shirts

Today I had my bi-annual wardrobe clear out, rotating the drab black band t-shirts for my brighter purple/red/yellow ones in time for the nicer weather, and as usual I've got a few that I don't wear any more, haven't worn for a year and can't bear the shame of wearing them at Reading. Rather than go through the hassle of putting them on eBay I thought I'd give you lot the chance to lay a claim. I'm not asking for any money for them (a drink would be nice but not mandatory) and I'll pay for postage myself. They're clean and in fairly good nick, some worn more than others. I'm quite hoping that not all of the Subways ones go as I like the idea of showing courtesy and respect by cleaning my bike with one or two.

Young for Eternity tour, Autumn 2005. It's a large mens size, and the print shows obvious signs of wear. On the back it lists the full tour dates from September to November (of which I saw 6).

First Subways tee I ever bought. Old-school logo. It claims it's a large but I think it's a girls tee because it's extremely small and tight on me. First one claimed.

Large mens size. Second logo. Print is cracked on the T, H and S.

Silloheute design for the summer 2006 gigs. Navy blue and small. Has the bands logo on the nape of the neck on reverse. Also claimed.

It's a darker green than the picture suggests. Features a faded drum picture on the front and again the logo on the nape at the back. Another small tee.

Features the Young For Eternity tree, and again the logo on the back. Yet another small tee.

Span and Pretty Girls Make Graves. Span is XL, PGMG is Medium gone.

There's also two Auf der Maur t-shirts that are going spare, but I've got a few people who are first in line for those. If they don't want them I'll list them later.

If you want one then email, PM me on any boards we're both on, Facebook me, text me, send a carrier pigeon, phone 0800 800 150, choose option 2, option 2 again then option 1 and hope and pray the odds are with you, comment me here...oh, use your brain.

Thursday, May 01, 2008

Election Night Special

The candidates and their vote totals:


* Arthur J. Smith (SENSIBLE) - 30,612
* Jethro Q. Walrustitty (SILLY) - 32,108


* Alan Jones (SENSIBLE) - 9,112
* Tarquin Fin-tim-lin-bin-whin-bim-lim-bus-stop-F'tang-F'tang-Olé-Biscuitbarrel (SILLY) - 12,441
* Kevin Phillips-Bong (SLIGHTLY SILLY) - 0 (nought)


* Mr Elsie ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzOOP (SILLY) - 26,317
* James Walker (SENSIBLE) - 26,318
* Malcolm Peter Brian Telescope Adrian Umbrella Stand Jasper Wednesday (pops mouth twice) Stoatgobbler John Raw Vegetable (sound effect of horse whinnying) Arthur Norman Michael (blows squeaker) Featherstone Smith (blows whistle) Northgot Edwards Harris (fires pistol, then 'whoop') Mason (chuff-chuff-chuff-chuff) Frampton Jones Fruitbat Gilbert (sings) 'We'll keep a welcome in the' (three shots, stops singing) Williams If I Could Walk That Way Jenkin (squeaker) Tiger-drawers Pratt Thompson (sings) 'Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head' Darcy Carter (horn) Pussycat 'Don't Sleep In The Subway' Barton Mainwaring (hoot, 'whoop') Smith (VERY SILLY) - 2

Other results:

* Engelbert Humperdinck gains Barrow in Furness from Ann Haydon-Jones and her husband Pip.
* Mary Whitehouse taking Umbrage, which the presenter claims will cause a bit of trouble.
* Not a result as such, but Arthur Negus holds Bristols.
* Wales isn't swinging at all; no surprises there.

With grave apologies to the Monty Python team.