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Man and boy
Prior to my departure for the slopes, the guys in the office were gripped by New Year's Resolution fever - they were all going to do the local 10k run. They'd spent weeks haranguing each other, drawing up training plans and boasting about how quick they were going to be. Most vocal amongst them is our new Commercial Manager, who was going to effortlessly lap the competition, and chalk up a record time. He's not been with us long. He announced his arrival in great style at the Christmas party, by attempting to impress the ladies with his party piece (anyone who has a party piece....), a B-boy back flip. Which he got spectacularly wrong by landing on his head. Since then, he has worked diligently at maintaining his position as office tool. He is, a short man, and has really not come to terms with the fact. I had the misfortune to bump into him at the gym recently - he offered to 'spot' me ((shudders)) Anyway, I return to the office to find a terrible calamity has arisen. A catalogue of unfortunate, unexpected and coincidental accidents had occurred; resulting in only two of the team actually making it out for the run. The extent of groin strains and ankle twists one can pick up in a single weekend makes me fear for the population at large. Sadly, our Commercial Manager is one of those afflicted. Quite seriously it would seem; when I enquire (sympathetically) about his no-show, he "doesn't want to talk about it". Do, or do not; there is no try.
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11.3.07 15:42
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White powder addiction
 It's hike in/hike out not ski in/ski out. It's 300ft to the summit. It's skiing fall line, just for the ground rush. It's looking down. It's avoiding the next tree; being the only thing on your mind. It's yesterday's precipitous impossibility, being today's nursery slope; and the pleasure and sadness that brings. It's 50 degrees to the vertical. It's 25 degrees below zero. It's always losing, but coming back for more. It's over, far too soon.......
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12.3.07 23:09
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Making Your Mind Up, BBC1
Is Terry's ego really so fragile that the only person he's prepared to co-host with is a twittering imbecile like Fearne Cotton. Fearne makes Kelly Brook look like a mensa candidate. I don't think she's just playing dumb so boys will like her, I really think she is that stupid. It's just so "amazing" she can remember to breathe. As to the contenders themselves: Justin Hawkins playing spare prick to an otherwise promising Beverlei Brown. Brian Harvey failing to reanimate himself, or his career. The tragic Big Brovaz. Liz McClarnon - right performer, wrong song. Cyndi - right song, wrong performer: the French simply cannot sing, and the absence of a bagpipe finale was a schoolboy error. And Scooch, with no entendre left undoubled, camper than a Scout jamboree.
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18.3.07 23:47
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Moron building
"Is this bra working for me?" It's not even 6 o'clock, I'm only on my second G&T, and already I've got a face full of cleavage. Courtesy of one of our junior accountants. I can't deny that her cups runneth over; but there's a time and a place for that sort of thing. Evidently Stuff-u-Like's annual conference is the time, and the place. I'm really not in the mood, I've had a troubling afternoon. I've been outdoors, in the countryside ((shudders)). Enduring a teambuilding session. Facilitated by khaki-clad morons who really never got over scout camp. "RIGHT! ARE YOU UP FOR THE CHALLENGE!" - 'oh do fuck off you tiresome little TA wannabee' The fickle hand of fate puts me in the MD's team, so all hope of deserting, and spending the afternoon in the bar are dashed, and I spend the next few hours crossing imaginary rivers with planks of wood - 'why don't we just imagine we've crossed the river.....' All soundtracked by the "go team!" ethusings of these outdoor pursuits nutters. I mean, honestly, pursing the outdoors!?!? Surely the point of civilisation is to repel the outdoors.
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21.3.07 20:15
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Easter Turkey
The Catholic Church have got their cassocks in a twist over a life-size chocolate Jesus. It has been solemnly denounced by the Catholic League as "a sickening display.", "one of the worst assaults on Christian sensibilities ever.". Through their frothing outrage they've got the exhibit pulled. It should be pulled of course. Not because it upset some God bothers, but because it's really, really bad art. Trite, banal, me-too wankery. Even in the 80's these sort of lazily contrived 'outrages' were crushingly dull. I know it's coming up to Easter, but I'm sure we can think of something better to resurrect than Serrano. The work is actually entitled 'My Sweet Lord' - honestly, I'm not making this up, check it out on Google (you'll have to wade through about 50,000 Tom Wait's references to get there). It's self-basting onanism. Ignore it, it'll go away. Give us a praline Mohammed for Eid, then we'll talk about artistic integrity, you pussy.
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31.3.07 14:48
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