February, 2008:
It’s all taking and no giving
So there I was, a 19-year-old student spending my summer working in the quality control department of a clothing manufacture. And I hated it. I hated the work, I hated my colleagues, and I hated the waking up at 6am in order to get there.
But the worst was to come.
All day there had been rumours flying around the factory. One of the lorry drivers bringing a load of jeans from Poland had discovered three illegal immigrants huddling in the back of his truck. The police had been called and the poor unfortunate souls had been carted off to await repatriotation.
It’s a long way from Poland to England, and the toilet facilities in the back of trucks are sparse at best. So the stowaways had been opening up the individually wrapped pairs of jeans, doing their business in them, and then sealing them back up.
Now if were up to me they would have thrown away every box that had been tampered with and just claimed on the insurance. But unfortunately it wasn’t up to me, it was up to the management who thought that it would be a much better idea to get some poor sap to open each and every packet and find out if it had been urinated or defecated in.
Guess who was that sap.
Now I’m not a stranger to the more unpleasant fluids in life. I’m a parent and I’m a nurse and I’ve wiped plenty of bottoms on both sides of the generation gap. But I’ve never had to do anything quite so stomach churning as search through that pile of plastic bags.
And that, ladies and gentelmen, was the worst job I ever had. What was yours?
———
In July of this year I shall be walking 78 miles in 6 days in aid of the Joseph Salmon Trust, a charity founded by my close friends in memorial to their son Joseph who died aged 3 in April of 2005. Please look here for further details and consider sponsoring me. Thank you.
What a way to make a living
I’m not particularly keen on work. I don’t think I’m designed for it. I am a naturally dishevelled bumbling creature and, until they design a career based solely around loosing your shoes and forgetting which day of the week it is, I think I should be given a special dispensation to retire at 32. After all I’ve been in full time employment for a total of seven years now. I think you’ll agree that I’ve done my fair share.
Like most people I’ve had a few different job titles over the years: Barman, Shop Assistant, Cleaner, Care Assistant, and now Nurse. But by far the worst job I have ever had was working in the quality control department of a clothing manufacturer.
Well I say it was a manufacturer but it wasn’t really. It was more of a clothing importer and re-packager. Boxes of jeans, t-shirts, and the like were shipped in from Eastern Europe and our task was to make them look like they were made in England. A major part of my job was ironing the creases out of the merchandise. Anyone who is familiar with my crinkled appearance will realise that by asking me to iron clothes they were tampering with the delicate balance of the universe. My relationship with ironing is similar to that which matter has with anti-matter.
I was not really a proper employee, I was just a student there only for the duration of the summer break. As such I was designated by my co-workers as the lowest of the low. My only companion in this underclass was a chap called Saggis, a Greek immigrant with bad breath and a nearly impenetrable accent.
By this time I had already established an unhealthy prejudice against the Greeks. There were a large contingent of them living in my university halls of residence. Not only did they have a tendency to play Bryan Adams loudly at 3am, but they consistently attempted to push in the dinner queue. If there is one thing guaranteed to incur the wrath of any Englishman or woman it is someone trying to jump the queue. It is a little known fact that we only went to war with Nazi Germany because Hitler pushed in front of Churchill at the bus stop.
Unfortunately Saggis did little to challenge my negative views of the Greeks. His ancestors may well have been the fathers of modern thought, but the only thing Saggis was the father of were drunken bar brawls. Whereas Pythagoras founded the principles of mathmatics and Plato lay the philosophical foundations of Western culture, Saggis just worked out new ways of bullying me to give him a lift home. He was, quite frankly, a twat.
Despite my dislike of him I often found myself working alongside Saggis purely because we were both equally disliked by our collegues . The collegues that are no doubt still working in that godforsaken hellhole. Whereas me? Well I took that University degree they were so scornful of and I… well I didn’t do anything to be honest because a Media Studies degree is bloody useless. But I went back to University amd did yet another degree and now after a total of eight years of further education I am now bringing home a wage that is only 15% below that of the national average. Ha! Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!
But despite all that, my co-workers were not the reason that job was the worst one I’d ever had. To find out the real reason you’ll have to come back here tomorrow.
———
In July of this year I shall be walking 78 miles in 6 days in aid of the Joseph Salmon Trust, a charity founded by my close friends in memorial to their son Joseph who died aged 3 in April of 2005. Please look here for further details and consider sponsoring me. Thank you.
“It’s all Greek to Me” Sunday
If you don’t know by now, here’s how it works. I’ve take a short film synopsis from the listings page of a TV guide and fed it into Bable Fish, an online translating service. I then translated the synopsis from English into Greek, and then from Greek back into English. The resulting gobbledygook is posted below and your task is to try and identify what movie the passage refers to.
Yet again I’ve failed to buy a TV guide this week so the review is taken from the Guardian website.
Celebrated cinema TV that announced the arrival of exceptional talent. Threatening road 23-years [director] cinema it terrorises the businessman of [actor] with a strike-above old oil-tanker in a distant American national road. Don’t we see the driver of lorry: it’s simply intolerant ( jaws in order that) force fixed in running [actor] from the street.
Last week the mighty Whit was first across the line with the correct answer. It’s a shame he wasn’t the winner the week before as he mentioned me or my blog on three separate occasions that week. I think many of you could learn a valuable lesson in dynamic blog content from Mr Honea.
This week was his son Zane’s birthday and he marked it with a beautifully written post, which is nothing less than we have come to expect from him. That’s the problem with having such a high bar, no one is surprised when you jump over it again.
Moonraking
Legend has it that in 1802 a group of local vagabonds had established a healthy trade in smuggled whiskey which they transported to the village by barge up the canal. One night the group were disturbed in their endeavors by a passing patrol of soldiers, and to avoid detection the smugglers threw the barrels into the canal and snuck away.
Returning later that night, the smugglers retrieved the barrels from the water by using large garden rakes to draw them into the side. Unfortunately they were once more disturbed by the soldiers, who saw them with the rakes in the water and asked them what on earth they were up to.
“Well, we saw that the moon had fallen in the canal” replied a quick witted smuggler, pointing to the moons reflection in the water, “and so we’re trying to get it out”.
The soldiers laughed at the smugglers stupidity and went on their way. Leaving the smugglers to retrieve their booty in peace.
—–
Of course everyone knows the legend is a load of old bollocks. But that doesn’t stop our village having a mighty fine festival dedicated to it.
All week long there have been workshops taking place in the local community center. People have been creating elaborate lanterns made out of a framework of willow and covered in tissue paper. And tonight they all paraded through the village holding them suspended from long poles. Marching alongside them were drummers, jazz bands, and various people in fancy dress. It was great, especially for the kids who loved every second of it.
Amy was just that bit too young to participate in it this year so we were just spectators. But I think we may have a bash at it next year.
You can see more photos here
———
In July of this year I shall be walking 78 miles in 6 days in aid of the Joseph Salmon Trust, a charity founded by my close friends in memorial to their son Joseph who died aged 3 in April of 2005. Please look here for further details and consider sponsoring me. Thank you.
Love letters
As you know it’s Valentines day today. Kerry and I are choosing to ignore it this year, but it hasn’t always been so. Whilst putting away the clean laundry this afternoon I was suddenly struck by the memory of our first valentine eight years ago. I got her housemate to let me into her room where I hung from the ceiling garlands of multicolored origami butterflies and a love letter I had written her. My god I was slick back then.
Remembering I’d seen that letter again recently, I had a quick rummage under the bed and found it in a box full of other assorted mementos. Here it is now, minus the rude bits because both our parents read this blog.
…because you laugh at the same things I do.
…because you wrote to Alex Robinson
…because we saw a kingfisher.
…because you’re the only person I’ve ever met who I thought might be “the one”.
…because you make up for my bad bits
…because you don’t object to Harry
…because you like to fly kites
…because you laugh out loud at the TV
…because you tolerate my sulks
…because you bite your bottom lip when you dance
…because you own books that I want to read
…because you’re my best friend
…because you needlessly apologise almost as much as I do
…because your cooking makes going without meat bearable
…because you loved your dog
…because you seldom criticise me
…because you taught me what an oxymoron was
…because you love the sea and the stars
…because you’re ticklish
…because you understand
…because you giggle
…because you were scared the world was going to end
…because you like geeky T.V. programs
…because you make me happy
…because you like everybody
…because you aren’t afraid to phone talking pages
…because I know you’re going to be a great mum
…because you’re funny
…because I’d rather be with you than anyone else
…because you read the travel section
…because you put up with my comic fixation
…because you bought me the Gail Porter edition of Esquire
…because my friends think you are fantastic
…because you buy me parkin
…because I miss you when you’re gone
…because you like curry
…because you’re generous
…because you smile with your eyes as well as your mouth
…because you laugh at my jokes
…because you encourage me
…because you’re clever
…because you sing along in the car
…because you know I’m only joking
…because we get along so well
…because you are honest
…because you make me stop and look rather than plough on
…because you wear trainers
…because you wear that scarf and take no notice of my whinging
…because I love writing to you
…because I find myself thinking about you
…because I love you, plain and simple
And do you know what? There isn’t a single item on that list that isn’t even more true today than it was then. Apart from maybe the “her cooking making going without meat bearable” bit.
I love you Kerry; and I always will.
Apparently Leone and Honea both rhyme with pony
A couple of weeks ago the magnificent Dan Leone presented me with the Blogging Mentor award, a meme designed to recognize and thank the people who have inspired, encouraged, and supported the blogger in their online efforts.
I’m not quite sure what I did to deserve Dan Leone’s award, I don’t think pronouncing someone’s name incorrectly and being jealous of their writing ability really counts of mentoring. But hey, I’ll take my praise where I can get it.
There are plenty of people who I owe a great deal of thanks to for their influence on my own blog. In fact if it weren’t for them then it is entirely possible that I would given all this up a long time ago. Here, in no particular order, are some of them:
Whit from Honea Express
Whit can take you from tears of laughter to tears of sadness in the space of one paragraph. He is a masterful writer, an shining wit, and an all round good egg. From him I learnt that there is nothing wrong with throwing the odd heartfelt post into the mix now and again. Not only does it make a satisfying change of pace, but it’s juxtaposition with all the knob gags surrounding it only heightens its intensity.
He also taught me the benefits of responding individually to each of your comments, You develop much more meaningful relationships with the people who read the blog that way. Unfortunately I lack the organizational abilities to do this with any sort of consistency, but the theory is sound.
Lee from Quit Your Day Job
Lee has put me back in touch with my inner geek. Over on his blog he writes intelligently and accessibly about pop culture, sci-fi, comics, movies, and everything else that makes life worthwhile. He also shares my interest and my ineptitude in backyard vegetable growing.
Lee probably doesn’t realize how much of an influence he’s been on my blog since I started reading him around a year ago, but he was one of the main catalysts for me branching out beyond my previously narrow parenting focus on the blog.
Greg and Deb from Greg and Deb on the Web and Toast Ambassador
These guys know how important they are to both Kerry and I so I won’t bore everyone by going over it all again. Just to say that such is my hero worship that even if they were the only people reading this blog I’d still be churning it out.
Becky from Becky’s T-Blog
Becky is funny. Bloody funny. She also does a fine line in highly creative very unique posts which I find hard to describe but have certainly tried to emulate.
She also has a very cool way of doing her blogroll which I am very tempted to steal.
bon bon from Phantom Kitty
Both Kerry and I are a little in awe of bon bon’s photography skills. We both used to console ourselves by telling each other that she must have immense technical knowledge and abilities which gave her a huge range of fancy techniques to draw from. Then we met her and she told us that she was as confused by the complicated half of the camera dial as we were. So she just has a massive natural talent then. Arse.
While my photo’s have always been of the more pedestrian family shot variety, my regular exposure to her excellent work have influenced to push myself beyond point and shoot. Such is her impact on me that I’m even considering buying a lensbaby.
Phil from A Family Runs Through It
Ever since I had a mid-blog-crisis in the middle of last year Phil has been incredibly supportive of me and my blog. He’s had nothing but kind words to say and has very generously sent me some really cool gifts.
I think I’ve said this before, but when I started this whole blogging thing I had no idea what a fantastic community I was plugging myself into. As an example, so far I have raised nearly £400 for my charity walk from the people I have met on the net. Anyone who says that blogging friend aren’t real friends clearly has their head up their arse.
Avitable from Avitable
In the dim and distant past Avitable reviewed this blog on a site called I Talk 2 Much. The review wasn’t particularly favorable, in fact he gave me zero out of five. But it wasn’t a hatchet job and to be honest he was correct in all his criticisms. At that time I was blogging as a sort of family record, and to the outside reader it probably was rather boring. The review didn’t bother me, I was blogging primarily for myself. But it did sow a few seeds of thought, and when around six months later I had my mid-blog-crisis I remembered his words when I decided to widen my focus a little.
Incidentally Avitable’s comments have all disappeared from that site, so it looks like he had a falling out with them. The quality of the reviews certainly appears to have deteriorated recently. They always took delight in being rude, but now it seems that they have chosen to be nothing else.
—
It’s only when writing a list like this that you realize how long it actually should be. There are many others out there that deserve equal billing with the eight I’ve already mentioned. Therefore I’ve decided that instead of being a one off I’m going to make this post part one in a series. That way I can thank everyone properly. But for now we shall leave it that without Whit, Lee, Greg, Deb, Becky, bon bon, Phil, and Avitable All That Comes With It wouldn’t be what it is today. It’s them you have to blame. Death threats can be delivered to them via their blogs.
Introducing the new member of the Blue Man Group
———
In July of this year I shall be walking 78 miles in 6 days in aid of the Joseph Salmon Trust, a charity founded by my close friends in memorial to their son Joseph who died aged 3 in April of 2005. Please look here for further details and consider sponsoring me. Thank you.
Corrections
Like any other high quality publication, this blog occasionally makes mistakes. In keeping with the exemplary journalistic standards you have come to expect from All That Comes With It I feel it is time to hold my hands up to these errors and publish a list of corrections.
- The post “A perfect chocolate cake recipe” dated 14th July 2007 should have read 1½ cups of milk rather than 1½ cups of industrial strength laxative. I apologize to Paul sincerely and hope the £10 book token I am sending goes someway to recompensing him for the renovation of his bathroom.
- The post “The washing up: Surely a woman’s job?” dated 30th December 2007 appears to have been published in error. I wish to apologize profoundly and sincerely to the senior management for any offense that may have been caused. February is a cold month and the shed is very drafty at night.
- In the post “Happy Mothers Day” the phrase “spending all my inheritance” should have read “living life to the full”.
- In the post “Anything to declare?” dated 24th October 2007 it was not my intention to imply that my brother was an illicit drug user. Nor was I aware that the captain of the Sidney Airport customs services read this blog. I have heard that for many a full body cavity search can be a valuable learning experience.
- Finally, it has come to my attention that the following photograph may have been faintly photoshopped. I apologize for any confusion this may have caused.
———
In July of this year I shall be walking 78 miles in 6 days in aid of the Joseph Salmon Trust, a charity founded by my close friends in memorial to their son Joseph who died aged 3 in April of 2005. Please look here for further details and consider sponsoring me. Thank you.
“It’s all Greek to me” Sunday
If you don’t know by now, here’s how it works. I’ve take a short film synopsis from the listings page of a TV guide and fed it into Bable Fish, an online translating service. I then translated the synopsis from English into Greek, and then from Greek back into English. The resulting gobbledygook is posted below and your task is to try and identify what movie the passage refers to.
Today’s review is from a moldy old copy of Heat that I dug out of the office magazine pile.
The expectations were high for part three the routine of web throw the privilege, and it exists abundance that enjoys, specifically the [actor] that makes “bad [character]“, cockily strutting via his styles of fever of night Saturday of Manhattan. But a abundance of criminals is proved that is more really less, grace in the tangled mapping out and a loss of focus. Does the OH, and how much conclusions it makes this sucker have?
The winner last time was Lise. Ordinarily I’d do a round up of whatever the winner was talking about on their blog this week. Unfortunately although I know Lise has a site I’ve forgotten what it is. Therefore I shall be using a special celebrity stand in instead.
This week Lise has been informing us all what not to say to our boss. It all sounds like pretty good advice to me, but I think she missed out “Is that a wig?”. If only I knew then what I know now.
She’s also been answering that age old conundrum of whether you should tip bad service. I got a couple of tips for you Lise: Don’t eat yellow snow, and never tie your shoelace in a revolving door. Ah the old ones are the best ones.
———
In July of this year I shall be walking 78 miles in 6 days in aid of the Joseph Salmon Trust, a charity founded by my close friends in memorial to their son Joseph who died aged 3 in April of 2005. Please look here for further details and consider sponsoring me. Thank you.