Welcome to Lynch-ville

Went out drinking with the Col and Trench on Friday. Not my first choice of companions but you gotta deal with what you got.

Anywho, we had plenty to drink, and I walked home.


Now all of this is all above board and nothing out of the ordinary at all.


Until......


I am walking down the road and notice a truck. Just the truck, no trailer. Its kinda parked up. On the opposite side of the road facing me is a car.

They are both just stopped there. As I get closer to the truck it slowly starts to move along. Almost as if its trying to make a get away.

The car on the other side, I notice, has its door open.......there is no-one inside it.


I am very confused. "Has there been an accident? Where is the driver to that car?" These are just some of the questions running through my drunken mind as I come round to the now stationary truck. I look up at the driver, he is on his mobile phone and points to the otherside of the road.


I look over and see a guy sprawled out on the pavement.



Ok, now I am worried, it really looks like there has been an accident.


I go over to the guy.

"Dude you ok?"

He just kinda mumbles and gargles at me. There is vomit next to him and he is writhing about the bloody place.

What am I meant to do? I look up at the trucker and mouth "What the fuck should I do?"

He just waves at me, and points at his phone. Oh alright, then mate you're in charge cause you're on the phone........hang on a second.


This guy is lying here, the car with the door open is a good thirty foot away. So did someone hit him stop the car and leg it? Is there some mad driver running wild in the streets?

Before I can even think for one second a police car comes flying up. Two coppers (proper British me) get out. One walks over to the car the other walks over to me.

Woman Copper: "Whats happened then? Did you see anything?"

Craigy "Err, not at all. I just turned up. I've tried talking to him but got nothing."

The copper then starts trying to talk to the guy, asking him his name, and he just kinda whimpers and moans a lot. This whole time he has his eyes closed.



The trucker comes over quite calmly. "Worked this out yet then?"

Sorry mate but no I haven't. Hang on......is this just a stunt? Is this just some eleborate riddle that I am meant to work out.

The copper politely points out that she hasn't worked it out yet, and carries on trying to get some kind of information from the weirdo on the floor.

She looks up at us, "I can't smell any alcohol on him, I don't think he's drunk."


Then why in Gods name is he 30ft from his car and thrown up?


The other copper comes over.

Woman copper: I can't smell alcohol. I don't think he's drunk.

Bloke copper: No he wouldn't be.

Hold the phone, stop the press. We have a clue. Somthing significant this way comes. We all stand there with baited breath desperate for this next nugget of information.

Bloke copper: There's a syringe in the front seat.

At this point, they all started laughing. No I mean proper laughing, like the end of Police Squad when they have completed the case laugh and freeze. Thats what they did here. I really did expect them to freeze and I would have run away, instead they stopped laughing as quickly and as in time as they started.

Woman copper to me: If you didn't see anything you can go home.

Craigy: Err fair play then.


And off I ran.



I could only think then, that this guy is driving alog and shooting up. He feels a little woozy, pulls over to throw up. but then the drugs kick in and he thinks he's a mango and can't get up or talk to anyone that comes up to him.


Bit that makes me smile the most is imagining his face when he wakes up in prison.

"Whoah dude, thats totally heavy shit.....where am I?.........ah bugger"

Possibly The Worst

Today at work it was free bingo.

Yes I work in a bingo hall keep up.

Anyway this means that the biggest scum bags from around the place swarm in to get free books with the chance of some free money.


One such group of scum was drinking alcohol. This is rarely heard of. They normally ask for jugs of water because they can't afford beer and the like.

So anywho, this group was hammered and making loads of noise. I told them twice to shut up, and eventually M told the main woman (who was off her fucking face) that she couldn't drink anymore.

The following is EXACTLY what was said between her and myself. Remember she was hammered.

Hammered Intoxicated Woman (AKA HIM *insert childish giggle*) So you are tellling me I can't drink anymore?

Craigy: Thats right.

HIM: Why?

C: Because you have had enough, and we have a legal obligation to tell you when to stop and stop supplying alcohol to you.

HIM: And you think I'm drunk?

C: I think you've had more than you can handle yes.

HIM: Look into my eyes *points to hammered eyes* I'm not drunk.

C: Seriously you have had to much.

HIM: I swear on my dead sons grave that I'm not drunk.

C: Err......thats nice, but I think you have and please don't swear on anything ever again. Really.

HIM: What you gonna do if I drink from the beer?

C: Tell you to leave.

HIM: What if I take the beer with me?

C: I'm not going to let you.

HIM: *pointing @ a weasel faced arse of a man* thats my partner.

C: Good for you.

HIM: I'm pregnant with his child, and you're not letting me celebrate.

C: Errr......well if you're pregnant then YOU shouldn't be drinking at all, and now on a moral ground I'm telling you no more drinking..........and why not, I'm going to ask you to put out that ciggarette.



I eventually got them to leave, but only by giving them a full refund on the jug of beer that they were all gulping down.


Leaving comment from the mum of the woman I was talking to?



"Its ok, I'm a first aider, I'll look after her if anything happens"


What the hell is that meant to mean?

What? When? Why? Where? Who?

Its nothing new, I love Jecka.

She makes me laugh and I find her golden beyond belief.

She has started becoming very aware of the world around her and has been asking questions about whats going on.......but not like a normal 6 yr old. But then you'd expect that from her.

Questions like

"Dad whats a company?"

How the hell do you start with that one?

"Dad, on my barbies yeah, on the box next to her name it has a T and a M. Whats that for?"

The Trade mark? Bloody hell girl leave it alone for a while. Nothing for you to worry about for ages yet.


I was watching some Dr Who with her the other day. The one with the cybermen.

Quick run down for anyone that hasn't seen it.

Everyone has earpods, which are like bluetooth stuff, and with these everyone has all the news, lottery numbers and even a daily joke uploaded right into their head. However, a bad guy uses these to get people to come to his warehouses and get "upgraded" into cybermen. Basically your brain and other organs are removed and put into a robot.


Anyway,

"Daa-ad?"

"Yes Jecka."

"So, if kids had those earpods in......would you have little cybermen walking around?"

"Err, no I don't think so"

"How come?"

"Well when the people go into the warehouse they have their brain pulled out with an ice-cream scoop and put into a cyberman. Can you imagine a little cyberman walking around? You could just put your hand on his head and keep him away, push him over even!"


She couldn't stop laughing at the thought of the lobotomy with an ice-cream scoop.

When re-telling the story to her mum she again couldn't stop laughing.



I was asked (when I told this story at work) if I could imagine my life without Jecka.


To be honest, I think if I tried hard enough I could.



I just plain don't want to.


She's to much fun.

"I've got a job for you......"

I hate hearing those words. As soon as your boss, mum, other half even if you're friend says those words run away.

"I've got a job for you" can never lead to good things.

My boss turned to me last night and reminded me of a horrible job I had to do ages ago. Without going into the boring details it makes no sense, so try to keep up and keep awake.

I had to go through an entire day and fill out an excel sheet showing what types of games were played at what time, what the average amiunt of players for these games were in each time frame and how much money we made. I could group together about 3-4 blocks (a block is a pound, so whatever game mix we play it'll add up to a pound ie, 2 X 40p + 1 X 20p or 60p + 40p thats a block, the more you know) So I had to do that for an entire day. It took me about 4 hours. Still with us? good

My boss reminds me of this and I tell him how crap it was.....

"So you wouldn't be to happy about doing it again then?"

Not really

"So you'd be really annoyed if you had to do the whole week?"

Ah crap. When do you need it done by?

"Tomorrow"


No considering that it took me 4 hours to do one day I wasn't best pleased that I had one day to get an entire week done. I got to work this morning at about 9:00. I did one hours work on it, then had to do a collection (not gonna go into that one don't worry) that took about 2 hours then I went straight back to the computer and carried on working on this sheet.

So I guess the main question is.

How long did all this messng about take?


Well, I'll tell you. 8 hours. 8 bloody hours straight, I had no break no lunch break I stopped once to go to the toilet and to get a coffee. It was horrible.


The main thing that annoyed me was I had to fill in one section dubbed "average players" and then by the magic that is excel some figures would appear in the column next to it. Oddly though this column was "Sum of Average players" I moved the mouse over both and the one I wrote in said, "Equals average players" the other one said "Equals the sum of THE average players". So I would type in one and a completely different figure would appear next to it for no bloody reason at all. This confused and angered me.




Also I get told off for having a very messy desk.

"A cluttered desk means a cluttered mind" My manager will say.


My desk is like my mind, lots going on all at once, and I kinda know where things are.......as long as I've not been drinking more than usual.


Anyway behold pictures of my desk at the end of my 8 hour regn on the computer.





thats my desk, yesterdays bap. Tool box and lots of paper that I needed to fill out a f&^*ing excel spreadsheet.





The computer I worked at, see I even managed to get my mess to spread to this!




The two combined.


I was so tired when I got home, all I wanted was a 1950's wife waiting for me with a Martini.


Gotta have something to get me through the day.