Puffins?
Mysterious shed
Picture this:
Two men are sat watching some good old fashioned rock and roll music at a gig. They’ve already had to endure the poor organisational skills of Huddersfield, Wetherspoons meals without the drinks (because the wait for drinks was longer than the food for some reason), rain, snow, sleet, drunk Yorkshire idiots and a winding, zig-zagging queue to get inside.
The support act were fine. The sun came out and the woman took her top off. If only the sound system was decent enough to make what she was shouting about audible but you can’t have everything I suppose.
The first band came on and despite numerous jokes at their expense (not from me), a jolly good time was had by all, especially when they did a rousing cover of ‘Enter Sandman’ by Metallic and a soothing rendition of ‘Africa’ by Toto.
The second band began their set with a weird recorded message by some semi-famous actor guy who I recognise the face of but can never remember his name. About four songs in the band suddenly decided to leave the stage.
“What’s going on?” everyone asks.
Cue the stagehands and roadies going backstage and trying to wheel on what can only be described as the world’s most unnecessarily large shed (FYI it looked more like a log cabin to me, Kev’s description is the official description though because he said it first). The shed is so big they struggle to get it onto the stage because a corner keeps getting caught on something. Manoeuvre, pivot, manoeuvre, pivot. A few minutes later it’s wheeled into the middle and the drummer climbs on top.
The band then do a two further songs before sacking the shed off and putting it back where they found it.
Was the shed some kind of protest? Probably not. Were the two songs that the band sung whilst it was there based around sheds? Did they sing ‘Sweet Shed of Mine’ and ‘My Love (How I Shed Those Tears For You)’? No they did not. Did the shed have anything to do with what was happening onstage? Not in the slightest.
It’s times like these that does make you wonder if anything actually makes sense anymore.
A strange little lift
Recently I had to visit an office building not far from work on my lunch break. It was one of those really small office buildings that’s just a stack of little offices above a shop, so you go to a door next to the shop and ring the bell and they tell you to come up.
When you’re inside, the offices are tiny, just a room on each floor really, and there’s a tiny staircase that spirals up. There’s also a lift, but this being a tiny building of tiny rooms it is a tiny lift. The kind where you get in and there isn’t really any space for anyone else. It has mirrors on three sides to make it feel bigger but nothing can really change the fact that it’s about the size of a coffin.
Anyway, the point is that I’ve never heard of the company that made the lift. If I had I’m pretty sure I’d have remembered them.
Job interview questions
I’ve been asked to be on the panel for some job interviews tomorrow, which will be a first for me. (This is at work, not just randomly by some bloke in the street, you understand.) I will be one of three interviewers grilling prospective candidates for a job in my department.
Having never done this before, I thought it was best to prepare in advance, so I’ve spent some time researching interview techniques and writing questions. I thought I’d share them with you now. Obviously, if you’re one of the people who will be attending interview tomorrow, please don’t read them.
- Who the hell do you think you are?
This question is about power. It destabilises the candidate immediately, and establishes my position as the “alpha”. Ideally I will not actually let them finish their answer before moving on. - You think you’re good enough to work here do you?
While the candidate attempts to answer this question I will avoid taking notes, and will instead attempt to stare them down. - Imagine the Queen is on a state visit to our office. She approaches and asks you to make a custom mains cable for her in our workshop, which has a standard UK 13 amp plug at one end and a pair of crocodile clips at the other end. She says she’s going to use it on “traitors”. The cable will be double insulated but not earthed. What are the safety, legal and employment implications of this situation? How would you answer her?
As a follow up question, ask whether the double insulation makes it a Class I or Class II device for PAT testing purposes. Ask also if their response would be any different if the Queen intended to use the cable on “horses”. - As a new employee your most important task will be making drinks for everyone. Tell me about a situation where you had to take a large and complex drinks order, and what you did to ensure there were no mistakes.
If the answer to this one is too confident, try slowly shaking head while the candidate speaks. - Do you have any questions for us?
Should the candidate attempt to actually ask us anything, sternly remind them that this was a yes or no question.
My approach to this process is based around the fact that, should anyone I interview get a job and then turn out to be a waste of space, I will be responsible. I will therefore be aiming to slam the door in everyone’s face to make sure none of them get in on my watch.
Good luck to everyone who has applied.
Milky Cow
Time for a tasty treat! How about some Milky Cow? It’s a luxury fudge.
Convenience and style
This week, the trains are all having a well-earned holiday, which means that my commute has become almost impossible. I’m working nights all this week, so get around the travel problem, work have sent me on a well-earned holiday too, and have put me up in a three star hotel with approximately a billion rooms that is mostly filled with backpackers, tour parties of Americans in ill-advised shorts and enormous groups of schoolchildren.
My room is actually not too bad, but the hotel itself is intriguing for the industrial scale on which it operates and the odd things they have in reception. There’s a whole unstaffed supermarket, with fridges full of drinks and food and snacks, with self-service checkouts. There’s a whole range of middling bars and cafes. There’s an enormous soulless pub, facing on to the street outside, catering strictly to the foreign tourist market, that is literally called “London Pub”.
And just beside the lifts, there’s a vending machine for the essentials you might have forgotten when you packed your bag. Do you need to stock up on toothpaste or shampoo or painkillers or condoms or batteries or SIM cards or plug adapters or padlocks?
No? Well, perhaps what you’re missing is souvenirs to take back home, to give to your loved ones as a reminder of your wonderful time in London. Don’t worry, the amazing hotel reception vending machine has you covered there too. You can choose from a toy black London cab, a toy red London bus, a gold model of Big Ben or a gold model of Tower Bridge. Your nearest and dearest are sure to be thrilled.
I know you’re going to feel like you’re missing out, but don’t despair. I’m here until the end of the week, so if you send the money I’ll happily get vending on your behalf. Just let me know which classy souvenirs have caught your eye.
Fear the return
Fear. That burning at the pit of your stomach. That tingle on the back of your neck. The shivers that overwhelm your entire body and reduces you to a pitiful mess of a human being.
Everyone fears something and I am no exception. If you’ve ever seen the film ‘Biodome’ then you will know what I mean. Monstrosities like that should not exist in this world so if you ever see it anywhere, be in VHS, DVD or, heaven forbid, Blu-Ray, destroy it before it can infect another person.
Recently a friend of mine found a new fear in an unaccepted place. It looked cheery enough but underneath that happy façade was the high pitched voice and relentless energy of a toddler sucking Coca Cola through a red liquorice straw covered in sherbet.
Don’t look at it. Don’t touch it. Don’t go near it. Don’t even think about the fact that it is somewhere in this world. Just be thankful it’s not where you are. Close your curtains and lock your doors. Turn out the lights and hide in the darkness.
You never know when he might be coming.
Bamse Mums
Hey kid, are you hungry? Do you need something to snack on before dinner?
What you need is a bag of Bamse Mums.
We take the finest things that sugar can produce and fashion them into someone that would make even a Smurf squint with glee.
Hidden beneath a veil of chocolate is something that up until writing this post I wasn’t quite sure what it was. It tasted like milk but it’s actually a marshmallow. Yeah, one of them covered in chocolate but also tasting a bit like a Kinder Egg. In the shape of a bear. Sort of shaped like a bear. In your mouth.
Trust me, with a packet full of these in your pocket, well, they’d melt obviously because it’s summer. They would melt into the sexiest confectionary you have ever seen or maybe not because they’re made in France but my sister sent some over from Sweden. Also nobody is impressed with melted chocolate unless they’ve got a hoover bag covered in holes for a brain.
English people probably don’t know what they are. They’re Bamse Mums.
Import some today and wonder why you bothered to do so in the first place.