Cunts Dined With Me

Regular readers may remember that before Christ's Mass I had the fortune to become ensconced within a tribe of Great Apes. I spent a long time studying the behaviour of these unfortunate creatures and was able to contribute to science with my findings. Fortune favoured the brave once again last night as the creatures were released into human society and I was able to provide them with lodgings for the evening. Knowing their dietary habits already (ie Thursday being 'Curry Night'), I provided a mouth watering curry avec poppadoms. It was a brave step, allowing these beasts into my house, so I brought along a companion, Moogdroog, who was to serve as official war artist. I wasn't sure if the creatures were sufficiently house trained, but science calls and I bade them welcome.

'You may release the chains, the beast is placated with Becks'

Once over the threshold the patriarch ('Tim') began making his presence known by waving his horse's head handled cane around the place willy nilly. The matriarch ('Cath') bemoaned the decor and inspected the contents of my fridge. After placating both with bottles of beer I drove them into the front room after a quick tour around the West Wing and guest bedrooms. I fed the pair and they seemed to like the fare, although 'Tim' displayed his usual distaste for vegetables by leaving red pepper lumps on his plate. Moogdroog finally turned up after 'Tim' had eaten all the food in the house, leaving her with nothing. Thankfully she had already planned ahead and feasted on chips and wine. Then the evenings entertainment got underway.

You will have someone's eye out with that... Too late!

I discovered that there is only one thing the West Yorkshire great apes appreciate and that is rudimentary beat combos such as Black Lace. It reminds them of the Working Man's Clubs of their homeland. They are also partial to the tribal sounds of Rusty Lee. Her 'Invitation to Party' certainly got the dance floor moving. Realising I was onto a winner I tried out Geoff Love's Big Disco Sound Close Encounters Of The Third Kind. This had 'Tim' whooping for joy during the Star Wars cantina band section.

Tranquilise the Beasts!

The evening drew to a close and the zoo bus arrived to whisk them off back to their pen in the wilds of Huntington. In their time in my house, they had consumed 15 crates of Becks lager, 25 bottles of white wine, 18 bottles of Red wine and 16 bottles of Tesco's finest Cava. I fought the hangover by staying in bed this morning. I was to have a bed delivered from Ikea, but had misread the order and the thing was being dropped off NEXT Friday... So with my tail between my legs I went to work for the afternoon, missing chip day by a whisker.

What day is the recycling?

I started teaching this week as well. I battered my students with four years of war compressed into two hours. They were glassy eyed, dumbstruck and tearful by the end. Job well done I think.

Où allons-nous mettre la fosse aux ours?

After yesterday's day off Clay and I turned at site this morning, drove in through the gateway and was confronted with the addition to the site car park of a Gypsy camp. Not just your common-or-garden type Gypsies either, oh no, but French Gypsies. Most likely of Algerian extraction. I assumed it was Karma coming round to slap me on the ass. The site is situated right next to the Park and Ride into York, there being a bus slip way running part way down the duel carriage way to allow buses access to the station. Commoners in cars have to go to the end of the road, do a full revolution on the round-about and then enter site. The bus slip road shaves off having to go around the round-about (and in Clay's case missing the exit and driving half way to Leeds...) On the approach to said bus route, Clay had been goading me about going up the slip road, saying Ali had said it was OK, that I was any kind of man then I'd go up it as well. He said that it was a test of masculinity to have such flagrant disregard for law and order. How could I look myself in the mirror each morning knowing that I'd wimped out of such a simple test of manhood? With this burning in my ears I took the exit up the slip road onto site. The only day I break the law in such a manner and the site is populated by Algerian (presumably) Gypsies, coincidence? I think not... Karma, I tells thee. Not only have they invaded our car park but they appear to have been using the grassy area in front of the site hut as a toilet, Cath and Daryl having to spade human faeces off the floor before anyone else got there. Apparently they'll only be there for three days so that's three days of spading shit up ahead of us...

'You're only here for three days? No Problem...'

Speaking of cars, I managed to get mine through its MOT today. It had failed previously on the parking brake, which for a 17 year old car is pretty good going. But this is the last day of a long tale of anguish. I had been looking forward to this job as it was just down the road and would only take about fifteen minutes to get to site (ten by using the bus slip road...), this meant that I would be able to lie in until about eight o'clock. The usual time I am on site for any other job. Relative bliss... But fate has turned against me it would seem. Clay and I have been having MOTs and mechanics looking at our respective cars most mornings and always at unreasonable times. In fact we have both been back and forth to the MOT place so many times in these past two weeks that the guys there probably think we work there. Mind you they still get uppity when I asked if I could leave my car there for the day while I was at work, well how else would I be able to pay for the MOT? They chuntered and muttered about not having parking spaces, but the ten parking spaces in front of the place were as empty at five o'clock as they were when I dropped the car off in the morning...

'Sorry, we're really pushed for space today, you'll have to park on the road...'

LULZ at work today, I was talking to Abi about The Plato Papers and how a future society decimated by an unknown tragedy had begun to base their knowledge of the past on fragments of Charles Dickens books. She asked if they had electricity in Charles Dickens' time, then quickly corrected herself, they had gas lamps. Yes I said they had gas lamps. Oh no, says she, No hair straighteners!

 Getting Charles' hair sorted in the morning was a full time job...

Not much else to tell you, expect last night was the last night of my Teacher Training course and I had to give a class. I taught the rest of the class how to lay out a grid square. The other micro-teaches that were being given were how to pot herbs properly, how to spot signs of abuse and the best one, how to make gloop. Gloop consists of corn flour and water and is the maddest thing I've ever seen. It basically stays solid in the tray you mix it in, until you pick it up when something reacts and it turns liquid again. It was literally blowing my fucking mind and it kept the five of us who stayed behind entertained for ages.

Gloop, kids and adults love it so!