With a name like that...

I received an email this afternoon from a chap with the amusing name of Flanagan Gerhardt. With a name like that, the last thing he should be doing is emailing thousands of people trying to sell worthless tat. I automatically deleted the email - but not before noticing his catchy email address: flanagan543023gerhardt3226@hotmail.com!

Bikes are good crime indicators

Bicycle theft is a big problem all over Britain, and people naturally take precautions to stop their bike being stolen. I've noticed that the degree to which someone goes to prevent the bike being pinched is a good indication of general crime levels in a community. Whilst living in Kent, I would often see bikes chained to railings, and they would be there when the owner returned. In London today I saw a telling sight. A cyclist stopped on his bike, jumped off, and the started dismantling his bike. The handlebars went in his backpack, where the seat soon joined it, and the wheels were hoisted over his shoulders, leaving the frame to be chained to a gate.

Do you sweat easily?!

Sitting on an underground train isn't the most exciting of activities, and commuters should grasp any opportunity to be entertained. It could be the bizarre way a man stands, the risque title of the book that an old lady is reading or the difficult task of avoiding eye contact with all the passengers. But my favourite source of entertainment are Tube adverts. Today, while travelling on an unplanned detour (in other words, while spectacularly lost) I witnessed my favourite Tube advert ever. Below is the eye-catching slogan on the poster:

'Do you sweat easily? If so, maybe you should consider plastic surgery!!'

Quite how plastic surgery will fix a body odour problem is beyond me!

Theft is NOT a hobby!

While writing a previous post, I was watching a TV programme about Coronation Street. They were interviewing a guy who collects Coronation Street memorabilia (presumably when he isn't standing on windy train platforms jotting down the engine numbers of trains as they speed by). He has visited the set 80-90 times in his life, and takes great pride in the fact he regularly steals props from the set as he walks around. He has stolen a cobble from the street, some cladding from a house and a washing line which a character died beside!!

As if theft wasn't enough, he regularly spends upwards of £90 in the gift shop!

The REAL Tube map

How the London Underground really looks based on the geographical location of each Tube station.

Indiana Jones & The Cornershop of Doom

My local corner shop is owned by an Indian family. One of their employees is also from India. He is really tall, very overweight (in other words 'fat'), has a bushy beard and wears a turban. He reminds me of a baddie in an Indiana Jones film. When he finishes serving a customer he looks at the next person in the queue, briefly considers whipping out his machete, but instead says with his strong Indian accent "Yes please and next!". Always makes me smile!

German terrorist/supervisor

This morning I was asked to work at a large London exhibition centre. My job was to check the ID of all visitors, give them their tickets and badges, and basically ensure everybody knew where to go. I was one of many temps doing this.

While working, I noticed the supervisor walking around. He was tall, had a smart suit on, a fancy goatie beard, and was talking into his walkie-talkie in a strong German accent. He reminded me of the German terrorists in Die Hard. I half expected him to walk into the hotel lobby, seal the doors and fire a machine gun into the air to get his new hostages' attention, or demand to know who killed Otto. He didn't, though my suspicions about him were confirmed later due to his accent - it kept changing. While he tried to stick to a German accent, he sometimes had a French accent, an Arabic accent, and even a Welsh accent. Definitely dodgy.

Some Londoners are dense

I saw this sign by a level crossing near where I live. Do the local London council feel that Londoners are so dense they need to be reminded when to cross and what the green man means? Judging by the gormless look on some locals, I think the council have spent their sign money well...

Life in an apartment block

I live in a new apartment block in London. It's smart, clean and modern. But even this inanimate block of brick and mortar contains elements of the surreal and bizarre.

The underground car park, for example. Each day I do battle with the other apartment tennants over which space belongs to whom. There are no numbers on them, you see. I've had more notes stuck to the windscreen of my car than Santa Claus gets each Christmas.

A more entertaining aspect of my apartment block is the lift. It has, approximately, a floor space of one square foot. So imagine the unease when a couple of Englishmen clamber into the tight confirms and are forced to stand unconfortably close to each other for what seems like five years. Occasionally, I will start a conversation with the other occupant (who is always carrying a full rubbish bag, despite going UP). The conversation soon dies when I realise I have nothing in common with the other apartment owner... except the close proxmity means we are virtually in a relationship.

Excess soil

After planting a new tree, a council worker wonders where all the excess soil came from.

(Photo taken today by me in local Tesco car park)

Why knock?

An additional piece of information about my interview. I was waiting in the interview room for the second interviewer. The hyper guy had just left, presumably to jump in the Thames and swim to France and back.

As I waited, someone knocked on the door. Opening it and leaning in, the man said my second interviewer was held up but would be down shortly. After he left I wondered to myself: why did he knock? I was obviously alone in the room, as he had come down to tell me the interviewer was delayed. What did he think I was doing in the room that warranted him knocking before entering? Actually, don't answer that.

Interviewed by a coffee addict

I've just come back from a job interview in the City of London. It was for a well-known, huge firm. The interview was in a skyscraper and it was my attempt to see if I wanted to leave teaching (albeit temporarily).

I was interviewed by a guy who had either consumed four gallons of strong black coffee, or was a heavy drug user. He was hyper, hyper like a hummingbird. He was shaking, spoke quickly and could have done three laps of the the interview room in two seconds flat. He asked me some ridiculously difficult questions, including the following. Please remember, I have no background in economics, nor did the job require me to have that knowledge!

"In terms of negative equity and fiscal policy, what are the benefits and drawbacks of Britain joinging the ERM?"

My excellent answer was: "What's the ERM?". I await with hope to see if i got the job. I won't be holding my breath.

Why cowsled?

What does Cowsled mean? How is it pronounced? And is it something obscene, a sport or something else?

Cowsled is a word created by me and a friend. We were reading a puzzle which gave the word 'sled' and asked where the word 'cow' fits in to make a new word. The answer is 'scowled' but we were convinced 'cowsled' was the real answer. To us, cowsled was either a sleigh shaped like a cow, or someone who is bemused and confused. The latter is the truth, and it is me! I am cowsled!

'Cowsled' is prenounced like 'tousled', with a soft 'l'.

The lady likes a skip

I was walking along the pavement, on my way back from the Tube station a few days ago when I noticed a skip ahead of me. As I approached I saw a middle aged lady nearing the skip from the opposite direction. We reached the skip at the same time. I passed the skip, the lady decided to climb inside. As I watched, she began sifting through the contents. It wasn't even her skip!

I did the decent thing: took another bite from my Aero chocolate bar and moved on!

The 'Good' Shepherd

I've just seen the new Robert De Niro-directed film The Good Shepherd. It was rubbish. Can I use expletives on Blogger? It was shit. People were leaving before the two-and-a-half hour film was finished, and the girl behind me said to her friend 'this is SO boring'.

It wouldn't have been too bad but the guy sitting to my right was incredibly annoying. He was sitting unconfortably close. Too close. Near the end of the film I expected him to turn to me and ask to sit on my lap.

All in all, a wonderful trip to the cinema!