A cryptic explanation?
Ooh er, I must be very easy to read [as opposed to the crap that I write on here].
Well I did promise that I would talk about work but I seem to do enough of that already.
I think that, seeing as my other blog has disappeared, I had better fill in some of my background. This will serve several if not many purposes the least of which will give me something to do coz there is bugger all on the telly. So what’s new! This is supposed to be in some kind of chronological order but like most of my posts will ramble off the point.
Yorkshire born, Yorkshire bred, strong in the arm but thick in the head. Now there’s a truism! Well, Yorkshire born I certainly am but couldn’t wait to get out, nice place but populated by cabbages.
Mt Father, “Finger-tight Frank” nice bloke but a complete incompetent with anything other than money decided me that I needed some kind of know-how with regard to how things worked or how to be able to fix things so that I wouldn’t be held to ransom by every plumber, electrician, joiner etc so despite the fact that I wanted to be a chef, like my three older brothers, I did an engineering apprenticeship with the MoD at one of the Royal Ordnance Factories. Finished the apprenticeship and stayed with MoD for a few years before going to Northern Ireland to work for the security forces [as a civvy].
What a lovely place Northern Ireland is. Forget all that shit about the troubles [even when it was really bad] it was never anything like you saw on News at Ten. NI is a big place and N@10 never ventured out of West Belfast. [If you want to see a shithole, travel south of the border into the Republic and…… it’s like Heartbeat, they still think it’s 1958 down there.
NI was where I met my beloved David who is a good NI boy [and my ex, the lovely Boyd, who is still a friend].
We still argue about whose stupid idea it was to move to London and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t mine! But move to London we did.
Ever the one to do things the wrong way around, we ran pubs & bars for a while [David still does] but I binned it to do my current “job”. More often than not, people tend to leave the “job” to go run pubs, but I like to be different.
One of our friends runs her own security company and as a bit of extra money [I have to pay for my vices somehow] I moonlight as a doorman for her.
There, a potted history for you. If it doesn’t make sense in comparison to all the other shit I write then, GAWBLIMEYMAN, eat your bacon butties or you won’t grow up big and strong!Next time, pictures of the real Sidney Hound.
Well I did promise that I would talk about work but I seem to do enough of that already.
I think that, seeing as my other blog has disappeared, I had better fill in some of my background. This will serve several if not many purposes the least of which will give me something to do coz there is bugger all on the telly. So what’s new! This is supposed to be in some kind of chronological order but like most of my posts will ramble off the point.
Yorkshire born, Yorkshire bred, strong in the arm but thick in the head. Now there’s a truism! Well, Yorkshire born I certainly am but couldn’t wait to get out, nice place but populated by cabbages.
Mt Father, “Finger-tight Frank” nice bloke but a complete incompetent with anything other than money decided me that I needed some kind of know-how with regard to how things worked or how to be able to fix things so that I wouldn’t be held to ransom by every plumber, electrician, joiner etc so despite the fact that I wanted to be a chef, like my three older brothers, I did an engineering apprenticeship with the MoD at one of the Royal Ordnance Factories. Finished the apprenticeship and stayed with MoD for a few years before going to Northern Ireland to work for the security forces [as a civvy].
What a lovely place Northern Ireland is. Forget all that shit about the troubles [even when it was really bad] it was never anything like you saw on News at Ten. NI is a big place and N@10 never ventured out of West Belfast. [If you want to see a shithole, travel south of the border into the Republic and…… it’s like Heartbeat, they still think it’s 1958 down there.
NI was where I met my beloved David who is a good NI boy [and my ex, the lovely Boyd, who is still a friend].
We still argue about whose stupid idea it was to move to London and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t mine! But move to London we did.
Ever the one to do things the wrong way around, we ran pubs & bars for a while [David still does] but I binned it to do my current “job”. More often than not, people tend to leave the “job” to go run pubs, but I like to be different.
One of our friends runs her own security company and as a bit of extra money [I have to pay for my vices somehow] I moonlight as a doorman for her.
There, a potted history for you. If it doesn’t make sense in comparison to all the other shit I write then, GAWBLIMEYMAN, eat your bacon butties or you won’t grow up big and strong!Next time, pictures of the real Sidney Hound.
posted by liits at 10:16 AM
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