ForgetMeNot

With friends like that?

Friends like what?

Well it’s kinda hard to explain.

Have you ever had or do you currently have a friend that you love dearly,  that you’ve went through lots together,  marriage,  divorce,  in his case re-marriage ..  long term friends who have went through the good and bad together.

I was best man at his wedding,  the second one that is,   been there when the twins came along,  advised him to play more of an active part and stop using work as an excuse to avoid dealing with the kids as his wife needs the help.

Not that I’ve ever been a fan of his missus,   I never thought they were right for each other,   particularly as during the pre-marriage days he had a few misdemeanours,    one in particular where his future wife turned up at my door asking me if he’d stayed at mine the previous night.

Now what can you say in that situation?

Tell the truth and stick your bestie deep in the doo-do?

Or lie your ass off and swear to the big guy in the sky that you’d been out for curry and beers,  came back to mine for some more drinks and he’d fell asleep.

Nobody sticks their mate in the shit,  it just isn’t done.

The missus couldn’t prove I was lying and although I was deeply uncomfortable with it,  what else could I say?

He’d texted me that morning in a panic,   he’d met a girl a few weeks ago and unbeknown to me,  was out with her on the Friday night, telling his girlfriend that he was out with me for the night.

Boys will be boys and all that.

They go out for dinner and drinks,  he goes back to hers,   nature takes it’s due course and the fud then falls asleep, waking up at 7 in the morning in a panic and calling a cab.

He then texts me from the cab to ask me to cover for him if his missus gets in touch.

What can you say?

Errr .. Nah mate,  your on your own?

So he gets home,  the missus suspects he’s been up to no good and rightfully gives him the third degree.

He feigns innocence and has deleted the text to me from his mobile.

I wake up at 8am .. well it is a Saturday .. and see his text, I  can tell he’s panicking and on the way home and know that he’s in it deep as he has a bit of previous.

I swither on sending him a text,  but don’t want to say anything that drops him in it and don’t’ really want involved either.

Nothing happens the rest of the day,  she’s obviously watching him like a hawk and he’s on best behaviour.   But later that evening,  while eating a take-away with the kids, the doorbell rings.  It’s his girlfriend asking if she can come in for a chat.

“Of course you can,    I’m surprised to see you,  hope everything is okay?” .. and I was surprised to see her .. hoping that my genuine surprise is masking my discomfort.

So she comes into the kitchen and I put the kettle on,  any excuse to buy a bit of thinking time.

I turn to face her and although her blue eyes are red as she’s clearly been crying,   they’re intensely staring at mine and she wants a straight answer.

“Did Robert stay here last night?”

Short, sweet and straight to the point.

It’s the moment of truth .. or lie.   It’s the moment of choice.

To choose the path of the hard and hurtful truth or to tell a horrible but gentle lie?

What would you do?

Back your best mate up or tell the truth and drop him right in it?

Call me weak,  I chose the easier path and lied .. yep,  as brazen-faced as I could manage,  I put surprise on my face as if the question had came out of the blue and lied through my teeth.

“Yes,  he was here”  .. and I’m doing my best to look as if the question itself was a surprise  ..  “We went for a curry and a few beers,  then he came here and we put on a Bowie concert and that Depeche Mode one that we had been to,  he fell asleep on the sofa,  so I went to my bed and when I woke up this morning he was gone”

Bowie and Depeche mode an easy and convincing add-on .. my bad …  but she knows we are both fans and have been to see them and watched these concerts at his house after nights out when she’d been there and went up to her bed.

“Is that what really happened?”

“Not sure what you mean?   Yes that’s what happened,  did he say that we did something else?  Is everything okay?”

“He says that he stayed here last night,   but I don’t believe him.   He’s been too secretive lately and disappeared a few times without saying where he’s going or where he’s been,  making excuse to go shopping on his own,  anything to get out the house for a while”

And she stares at me,  almost pleading to hear the truth  “Are you sure that’s what happened?”

And she knows,  of course she knows,  she just can’t prove it.

And I lie again, shamefully,   brazenly,  I’m even embarrassed about it now 15 years later.

A lot has changed in that time,    their married,  got the twins,  I’ve never had to lie for him again.

Back then,  after the dust settled and we met for another beer and curry night .. I ripped him up for putting me in such a horrible position.

If his missus was to read this now,  how would she feel,  knowing that despite him being a good dad and husband,  he had lied to her back then,  would it change anything .. or does time heal and we move along and close off the past,  preferring not to look at its dark secrets?

Let me give you a wee bit of advice … if you’re ever in that situation where you know your partner has cheated but can’t prove it and he has his best friend backing him up.

Trust your instincts.

 

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Between the Devil and The Deep Blue Sea?

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Between the Devil and The Deep Blue Sea?

Alternatively titled ..  Dead Man Walking .. or should that be Dead Man Wanking?

Why wanking?    Read on ..

It’s been a while since I wrote any of my nonsense,   I’ve been busy,   working too hard over the past year and not even had a week off since the Easter furlough back in April 2018,  when for one reason or another I didn’t get off on holiday anywhere.

Even at Christmas and New Year,  I only had 2 days and 1 day off work respectively.

That’s pretty unhealthy really.

There’s been reasons,  a big project consuming my time,   it went live in April and if you use the global companies services in the UK,  then you’’ll most likely be processed by it.    I’m quite proud of it.

Add on top of the 10 hour day an extra 2 hours for commuting,   It’s way too long,  for far too long.

But that’s about to change,

I’m a contractor,  self-employed,  I love working myself,  but the powers that be here want to reduce their budget and have employed a couple of staff replacements.     They guy who is my direct replacement is a complete prick,   loud-mouthed,  thinks he’s clever,  tries too hard to impress,  talks when he should be listening and sticks his foot in it big time.

Now I’m a dead man walking,  my contract is up in 2 weeks’ time and I’m not being fed any new work,  just handing over to big-mouth.

Or is that dead man wanking,   as all I’m doing now is fucking about and trying to keep myself looking busy.

The good thing about this job is I’ve banked a few quid,  well I had until a few weeks ago when I paid the mortgage off.

A 6 figure mortgage is a  £700pm payment  vs 6 figures in the bank and £40pm interest.

A no brainer really,  why pay the bank when they don’t pay you?

No mortgage ..  Free at last,  free at last,  thank The Lord almighty,  I’m free at last!.

Well I ‘m mortgage free,  still got a few quid in the bank and it will be fantastic to have a break for a while.

I might even take off the full summer,  I think I deserve it.

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PS – Weren’t the Celtic shit at the weekend .. getting well beat by the new team in blue that plays out of Ibrox.

A clear out is required.,  drop the dead-wood,   the has-beens and the never-beens.

On the plus side, we have the money in the bank to make the changes,   but is there the will?

 

 

Work, Rain, Home, Again?

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Work, work, work …
Rain, rain, rain  ….
Home, home, home …
Again, again, again …
I’ve not been doing much writing recently … kinda missing it.

Working too hard, long hours, long commute, tired all the time and too many other things to do.

This job .. which I quite enjoy at a technical level.. is sucking the life out of me.

I’ve always been a bit healthily disdainful towards my work,    I work for a living, not the other way around.

But that no longer seems to be possible in the world we live in. Where we used to have a knowledge gap and those with that knowledge were in demand and could command the bigger bucks, has been replaced by a culture where businesses can pull in that knowledge from other parts of the world on demand without considering the longer term consequences.

If younger generations don’t get the opportunity or the infrastructure or health system can’t support the influx then it’s not their problem.

That’s a general trend, but it’s this place, the Dickensian working practices, 8 hour days not including the mandatory hour for lunch, the 2-3 hour commute.

The day just seems so long .. Every day seems so long .. Tired .. Driving in rain and dark skies and not seeing the sunshine.

I need a holiday.

I need a change.

Like an alcoholic or some other behaviour addict .. the first step to making that change is to realise that you have a change to make.

It’s important to remember that even when it doesn’t seem possible, we always have a choice.

Now if I can only be arsed updating that CV and getting it out there.

The lyrics above are from Town to Be Blamed by Deacon Blue from their Raintown album, a personal favourite album and legendary around these parts with its image of Glasgow on the cover just at a time when dark, grey, stormy Glasgow put on some new clothes to become the European City Of Culture.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raintown_(album)

Work Stories – Resign Yourself?

 

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I currently work for this global communications company based in Central Scotland, if you live in the UK, you probably use or have used its services as they have a tight grip on some of the best available premium content.

You might know the place, very technical, a bigger technical base than any of the banks that I’ve worked for with the exception of JP Morgan.

I’m a contractor, self-employed and run a small personal services company ( ooooh-err missus ) for tax efficiency purposes.

Did you hear that? Tax-efficiency purposes?

What does that mean?

Well efficiency in a physics sense is defined as the ratio to energy in vs energy out.

In this context, it’s the amount of money that my company earns vs the amount of cash that I abscond with . take home .. by reducing my tax and national insurance rather than paying full PAYE.

Continue reading “Work Stories – Resign Yourself?”

This is Not the Champions League. #UEFA

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Celtic are back in action tonight,  the second-leg of the first of four qualifying rounds to get to the UEFA Champions’ League Group Stages.

We are already 3-0 up from the first leg against Alashkert of Armenia and tonight should be a formality.

How skewed are UEFA in the decision making of their qualifying process that whoever wins between Scotland and Armenia’s champions are playing 8 games to qualify in the group stages when there are 26 direct entries to the group stages including 4 from England, 4 from Spain and 4 from Italy,  3 from Germany and 3 from France.

This is not a whinge saying that the above is not fair.    If that’s how UEFA want to play the game then that’s up to them.

What am I saying is that this is no longer the “Champions” league and should be renamed accordingly.

Tonight,  the walk from Dalmarnock train station along the wide thoroughfare of the Clyde Gateway with the stadium looking magnificent in the distance always brings pride in my heart and a smile on my face.

Mon the hoops.

Brain-Dead?

Brain-Dead

 

Client – As a matter of interest,  what will you do with my body  afterwards?

Salesman – Do you really want to know?

Client – Yes and no.   I’m interested but don’t want to know the gory details.

Salesman – Well after your brain is removed,  you’re finished with it and there’s no need to keep it.  The important thing is that the surgeons focus on the installing your brain in your new body.

Client – Yes,  I appreciate that,  I just wondered what you did with my old body afterwards? Continue reading “Brain-Dead?”

Please Just Fuck Off!

It’s the half night

The half light

I’m wide awake

When I should be sound

 

She’s been texting

Her anxiety increasing

With my lack of response

But I was asleep to be fair

 

She wants me

She misses me

She wants me to fuck her

To do anything I want

 

She asks

Do I miss her?

Do I not love her?

Why don’t I love her?

 

All that angst and anxiety

While I was in the land of nod

Dreaming about nothing at all

And certainly not her

 

Continue reading “Please Just Fuck Off!”