What We Bin Doin

Posted on by June 18, 2008
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Hiya, 

A busy few weeks recently.

Having found out that we missed a concert, due to getting the date wrong, boo hoo. Then poor old Craig being dragged kicking and screaming to see Neil Diamond in concert (Lorna thinks he is wonderful and still has it, whatever it is?) wooing the old folks (forget throwing their knickers, they were throwing colostomy bags). I have never felt so young at a concert before, with the average age of 75. It took most of them over an hour to leave the MEN due to the zimmers crashing into each other. Lorna did take exception to me trying to tout my ticket at the door so I didn’t have to suffer 90mins of this guy warble!! 

We went to see Stu & Jen recently to help chop up some trees and dispose of the rest (plus nab some really good bits for the fire), so Craig, Stu and Jeff were busy skipping the dross, while Lorna and Jen went in search of peoples money collecting for Charity.

Stu & Jen came over to stay with us on one of the nights, so we treated them to the local Indian restaurant (yummy food), I quote direct from Stu “I was so drunk I don’t remember leaving the restaurant, walking back to yours, or sitting and chatting for a few hours”, however he does remember chatting up the barmaid (little flirt). 

Well its Mr Barty’s 40th birthday in a few days (ole git) and unfortunately we won’t get to see them, but we do hope he has a fantastic day.

Methinks its time for a quiet weekend at some point. 

TTFN 

Lyin Air, Cheapo Bucket ‘o’ Poo

Posted on by June 6, 2008
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Grrrrrr

So there I am, off to Dublin for the day to attend a business meeting, flight booked out of Leeds Bradford at 10.50am, returning at 9.10pm (what a waste of a day that would be). Checked in online with the cheap and crappy Ryanair “bring your own life vest” Airline. If you speak to the Ryanair reps behind the check-in counter they charge you for the privellage.

Got parked eventually about 4 miles from the terminal in the long stay car park (oooo yes, £29 for the pleasure). Went to security, “ah you are pre-checked, a priority boarder, go down the fas-pass line”, fantastic some bonuses to cheapy airlines then, get to walk past the masses who are queueing at the strip and go security gate. Get to the security check through and the old dragon was having none of the fast pass malarky, forcing me to wait until everyone of the Ibiza “I’m getting slaughtered at 9am” peeps got through.

So I then have to remove my Suit jacket, wallet, keys, mobile phone, belt, laptop and all equipment and shoes, each of these placed in separate containers and going through on their own, with no-one to collect them at the other side as I wait for the monkey to wave me through the metal defector! So who is responsible if someone steals your items at the other end, cos I am certain that the airports would wave their ” we accept no liability” form in your face.

Eventually through and time to kill watching the Ibiza peeps get slaughtered on falling down juice. My flight due to board at 10.20am, suddenly shows that it will not arrive until 11am, then 11.30am. So now the initial arrive in dublin with 1 hour to spare before the meeting, turns to 1 minute to spare. Then all of a sudden the announcement goes out that the flight will not be delayed until 12.15pm, meaining I would not make the appointment at all. I duly called the company i was off to see and they advised that we reschedule to a later date. So at 11.45 I advise the check-in desk I no longer wish to fly and wish to change my flight due to the delay and the fact that I will not arrive in time. So this is where the fun commences.

The Check-in staff will not let me leave without and escort, so I have to wait until everyone is boarded first of all and the Ryanair check-in desk is not manned at present. At 12.10pm I eventually get allowed out of the airport, to go back to the check-in desk, only to be told that Ryanair have no staff there (we are only Servisair who collect tickets) and I need to call a 10p per minute un-helpful line. So I do

First Response – You need to modify your flight online

Second Response – You cant modify your booking since it is less than 4 hours before you are due to fly

Third Response – The plane took off ontime according to our system so you must have missed  it

Fourth Response – There needs to be a 3 hour delay before you can move your flight

Fifth Response – There needs to be a 1 hour delay before we can move your flight and our system is only showing 55 minutes

Sixth Response – You need to call back sometime tomorrow and we will make you start the whole thing over again

So, here I am, 24 hours later and still none the wiser, I even tried to change my return flight from Dublin (which obviously I couldn’t make, since I’M NOT THERE) but they are oblivious. “All we can do is send an email to head office to see if the plance was delayed and advise from there”, but hang on a second the flight was due to depart at 10.50am, yet Leeds Bradford show it departing at 1.18pm (yes that is almost 2.5 hours late) and Dublin show it arriving at 2pm.

Can I send an email to the head office, “no” is the answer, can I call the head office “no” again is the answer. So how do I contact the head office “send a fax”, I’m sorry in this day and age of technology we are reliant on a fax machine.

The moral of the story here is you get what you pay for, buy a seat on a cheapo nasty airline and chances are you may not fly on time, and you can guarantee that you won’t get a refund.

The Ryanair system is setup to prevent customers from getting any form of custom, bogged down by call centres and engaged tones until you give up in defeat.

The reality avoind Ryanair like the plague, it it not worth the money or the hassle!!!

The Fogg’s go to the Boggs

Posted on by May 29, 2008
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Well top ‘o’ the mornin to ya, as they say in that there Ireland.

Yup Mr & Mrs Fogg (that’ll be me and the missus) have been over to see The Folks in the land of lucky charms, peat and all things alcoholic.

We flew out of Manchester on Saturday morning joining the massive queue of people leaving the UK over the Bank Holiday weekend. Cheapey tickets purchased online, hand baggage only, all capable of fitting into the overhead locker (or so we thought) until the madam behind the BMIBaby counter refused to let us, demanding £12 to check in a small handheld case (letter of complaint their way goeth, especially since the signs at the gate claim it is only £9 for a piece of luggage), so checked in (we tried with their online system, but their online system failed to recognise our booking, nice!). Then on to join the massive queue to get through passport checks, or commonly known as one foreign bird, looking at a passport and then needing to take a break every few minutes. Then through the security check where you are forced to remove every item of clothing and shoes, then forced to try and put everything back on whilst the queue gets longer. Oh the joys of British Airports.

An average flight of 45 minutes, brightened by me and Mrs Fogg enjoying a glass of poo! bought rather cheaply in the plane since the girl couldn’t add up (who needs CSE maths these days, well they do really).

On leaving the airport Mrs Fogg forgot where her dad would be meeting us so we spent a wee while walking around in circles, until we eventually found him.

All told a really nice relaxing weekend, plenty of the falling down water, seeing the The Folks pets, yes they have three pet chickens, all with their own names and characteristics (checkout the pictures and Mrs Foggs Dad being chased round the garden by the chickens).

Well little ole Mrs Fogg decided to put a head scarf on to keep the beating sunshine off her head (yes for once it was sunny in Ireland), unfortunately she had the scarf over her forehead, leaving a red face and white forehead (tee hee).

And now all of the America planning is sorted, the routes are chosen, the main accomodation booked and all four of us are raring to do that there US of A in October.

Anyhoo, let us know what’s happening to you guys.

157 Days to Go

Posted on by May 5, 2008
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Area51Only 157 Days until we head off to see the Little Green men at the Little Ale’inn

So the planning almost seems to be done, does it Lorna? Apparently “yes” comes the answer from the Tour Geek. Time to show the Foggies in the there Ireland, a little of the Americas:

  • Las Vegas
  • Grand Canyon Skyway
  • Bashful Bobs
  • Four Corners
  • Zion National Park
  • Grand Canyon
  • Canyon de Chelle
  • Hole in the Rock
  • Monument Valley
  • More Hinjun stuff
  • Area 51

We are also planning to have a go on a shooting range in Vegas (watch out women with loaded guns, not a good idea), visit the Ferrengi in the Quarks’s Bar, Hike into the canyon all the way to the bottom, drive lots of miles (about 2,500), eat Buffalo Burgers and Rattlesnake sausages and get drunk occasionally.

We Cant Wait!

Summer Has Arrived – The Foggs BBQ

Posted on by April 27, 2008
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BBQ King  Hoo Yah, summer has actually arrived in the UK, well as far as we are concerned!!

Twas the first “Foggs” BBQ (nickname from the Barty’s based on our travels, so Craig is Phileas Fogg and Lorna is Passepartout?).

After a tough Saturday having to deal with technical issues, we decided it was time to burn some flesh, so out comes “OLE RUSTY” and time to severely kill something. Having been a nice warm day (well warm for the UK anyway), it made a welcome change to sit out in the garden until the wee small hours eating burgers and drinking beer. Mr Spike was extremely happy at being able to wander around and spray anything that didn’t move or look too intimidating.

Unfortunately having 2 bloomin great Chestnut tree in the garden, tends to leave sticky buds all over the gravel and poor old Spike spends hours walking a few feet, to have to stop to pluck the sticky buds out of his paws, to then realise he now has them stuck on his bum.

 So next time you are in the area, stop in and enjoy a good bit of food from our rusty old barby and a few beers.

 Summer is here, you are most truly welcome.

On A Lighter Note – Sasha is looking for a new Home

Posted on by April 17, 2008
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I had a couple of lessons on a real man’s motorcycle back in Feb and decided that I wanted to learn how to ride and get a proper bike. The only problem with this logic is that I am rubbish on a real bike, having spent my time on a twist and go scooter, the concept of the clutch and brake in different locations has almost caused me to be thrown of so many times.

The instructor was very patient informing me through my earpiece that I have just driven through a Stop sign, I am driving too slow and that I being overtaken by a disability scooter, that I have missed my turning, I need to change up from first gear when I am travelling at 40mph, the list is endless.

So we decided to put Sasha up for sale (the bright yellow scooter we have) and look at buying a proper bike for me to learn on, after 1 month of advertising, we mainly had calls from a company that “have buyers interested in buying the bike, providing we pay them first” and an eastern european chappie who wished to view the bike with his wife, but then mysteriously never appeared.

Earlier this week a girl sent a text message through with the perfect grammar of “You still had bike for sale”, she called me in a thick european accent and the conversation went a little along the lines:

Girl: I wish for to buy bike, where am you living

Me: In York

Girl: Where is please?

Me: York in Yorkshire

Girl: Is this far from London

Me: Err yes, about 200miles plus a bit

Girl: I can get train to you yes, then drive bike back, how long this take

Me: How long this take, what the train or to ride the bike back at a speed limited 62mph

Girl: I ride on motorway

Me: Well if you are legal to do so, but it would take a long time to get back

Girl: It ok I like colour so I want to buy

Me: Forgive me, but are you real or is this a joke

Girl: It real I want buy it

So after this conversation, I started to receive more texts exclaiming that she would arrive by train on Sunday with cash only to buy bike and ride back. Now I started to get a little more suspicious about this, especially since she refused to use electronic transfer or bankers drafts. Thoughts of being handed hookey money and seeing Sasha ride off into the distance, with a girl giving a false name and address, started to flood into my mind.

We decided not to sell since there was too much risk associated with this transaction, but still the texts kept coming, “I very genuine, no funny business” “I want bike, you have no risk for sale”. Sorry call me jaded or a complete cynic, but trust of fellow humans is so far down on the list that we eventually told the girl that the sale was totally off and we would not sell to her at all.

So we still have Sasha and I still need to have some more experience on a geared bike to prevent me from killing myself. In the meantime I have sat my bike theory test, what a complete waste of time and money that is and I have under 2 years to pass the bike test or I need to take it all again.

So there you go, the moral here is if you are going to buy a scooter in a city known for bikes and scooters, make sure it is a well known make that everyone will want, not one that looks like a giant canary that has been stretched and squashed.

Why Do I feel like Victor Meldrew

Posted on by April 17, 2008
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Oooo I feel so disgusted looking at this once great land that we live in. It makes me feel so like Victor Meldrew, that I thought I would list everything that gets up my nose (and you get to hear all about it), well I do have a SOAP BOX and I am gonna use it:

  • About 10 years ago there was a petrol strike across the country because petrol had breached 90p a litre, yet here we are now with the price soaring through the roof and you hear nothing
  • The so called political leaders are more bent than a 5bob note, screwing everyone in the country out of their cash, whilst they happily have every little thing paid for in their “second” homes (so nice to see people can afford second homes these days)
  • The wondeful government don’t want people using their cars to travel on the over burdened roads, yet you are forced to pay to park your car at motorway services for more than 2 hours, so where is the incentive
  • You now need to spend your spare time separating all of your rubbish and placing it in silly coloured bins and boxes to save the poor old binmen from doing what they are paid to do. Meanwhile the council tax increases and the quality of service degrades.
  • Customer Service, never were 2 words so unmatched in a sentence, it doesn’t matter where you go or which company you speak to, by the time you eventually get to speak to anyone, they really could care less and really have no interest in assisting you with your problems
  • The world is heating up at an amazing rate (don’t exactly know where this statistic is based on, have you seen the heatwave we are suffering at the moment, no me neither) and the only way to prevent it is to introduce some wonderful stealth taxes
  • The economy is collapsing, house prices are falling (not some of the houses we have had a look at recently)
  • Your pension is worth so little, that you will have to work until you are in your 80’s
  • Red Wine is good for your heart and will keep you alive longer, but at the same time will increase the chances alheimers, so you have a choice drink wine and stay alive longer or drink nothing, die young but at least you can be grumpy and remember why

So I feel like a grumpy old man, but at least I have a young wife that listens to me go and probably ignore me as well.

Poor Mr Spike

Posted on by April 13, 2008
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Its Saturday morning and Spike the cat gets his own back for being left inside all week by jumping on us at some unearthly hour in the morning & wailing at some unmeasurable decibel level in our ears.  Joy! 

Well, its official, Craig has gone back to work, been there for two weeks already and in his words “has done very little yet”.  Meanwhile, I’m on a roll- the last permanent member of IT left yesterday, my contractor has just quit to pursue a career in the NHS and has kindly offered just a weeks notice,  I have several hundred applications for two permanent roles all from people outside the UK, where English appears to be their 4th or 5th language (not even second) currently residing in a country thousands of miles from the UK, without a work visa but able to start Monday courtesy of this wonderful governments open door policy, oh and some bus driver from Dagenham who has a PC at home and can drive a bendy bus.  I can see this recruitment lark taking a while! 

Anyway, away from the work stuff, we’ve been very busy, drinking, sleeping, a bit more drinking, the odd movie and then spending hours irritating the cat, all told, fun times at the Allan household!  Still, following my successful introduction to Indian food we’ve made Friday nights at the local a bit of a thing  – curry things for Craig, sweet coconut & pineapple things for me, washed down with a small tipple, a stagger back and plenty of snoring!

Next month we have decided to go visit the Folks in Ireland (takes us a month to prep the Livers before we go!), we’re off for the Bank Holiday, flying straight into Knock (no doubt Craig will sample the alcofrol on the EASY-BMI-RYAN-JET-AIR and the hospitality offfered at £5 per smile or £10 per pleasantry).  The plan is to annoy the folks with the American itinerary (yes it will be bound & neatly presented by then Stu!), finalise the trip details and then sample the local delights of that there Ireland (rain, mud, clouds and cold weather).  You never know, it might even be dry and not windy this time we visit!

We did manage to watch a wierd film the other night – Southland Tales, starring Duane “The Rock” Johnson (oh how silly must his mortgage application look, Name: The Rock, Occupation: Useless actor who has to strip in every film he stars in) and Sarah Michelle Geller.  A must see but don’t try to understand it.  The best bit – Justin Timberlake wearing a cool t-shirt and singing “I’ve got Soul but I’m not a Soldier”.  If you can’t be bothered to watch the film, check out Utube which has the clip – very good.  Been singing it all week.

Anyway – must dash, Spike needs pushing across the floor again, he’s not impressed that we’re not paying attention!

Our Meaning of Easter

Posted on by April 27, 2008
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So this Easter we had Allan and Bel up to stay with us and boy did we sup some of that there alcoholic beverage thingy:40 bottles of beer12 bottles of wine1 bottle of poo12 cans of ciderOh My liver pate anyone? This actually beats the record set by those well known alcofrolics The Folks in that there Ireland.We took a gentle stroll into York to enjoy the rather windy sites, as well as scoffing a hog roast sandwich each (ooo yummy), then the plan was to try a local Indian restaurant (Lorna’s favourite I think not), but it was a really nice meal in pleasant settings with excellent company.Sunday was spent watching the 3 inches of snow settle and Allan & Bel waiting behind a bush to pelt Craig (who with his spider sense realised this and didn’t come back until they got too cold), then learning the ground rules for Texas Holdem (big Blinds and all that stuff). Finishing off the evening with a nice 2.5Kg leg of lamb between 4 ravenous meat eaters.All told a really pleasant weekend with 2/3 of the Barty Crew and really nice to see them again, so come back soon.

Back to the grindhouse

Posted on by March 14, 2008
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We plan to celebrate this evening (and commiserate) since Craig managed to bag a really good job today.  Starting on April 1st (yes it is a real job and not an April Fool’s joke, or we hope not anyway!)  its back to stuff he knows lots about  – taking the mickey out of everyone around, practical jokes, being argumentative – oops I meant to say software development.  So, now all the practical aspects kick in – we need another car again for instance.  Then there is the sharing out of the chores – and I thought I’d managed to avoid them!

But is the dream over, our escaping the rat race and seeing distant shores??  Well, not so much over as on hold until we rebuild the coffers a little.  We’ve still lots of dreams and plenty of plans in place and we will make each one happen – of course a large windfall at this stage would assist with the plans (ps any rich distant rellies out there wanting an orphan to claim?).  We did try to claim Craig was the original inspiration for Tin Tin or of course Jimmy Somervilles love child (and if you know who we are talking about it would take some leap of the imagination for that one) but unfortunately he lost his hair before we could get the claim to court – so lost out there!

But, back to the grind then, at least until October when we do the Folk Tour.  And as to me – well, one month as Head of IT and I’m quite proud to share with you all that I have managed to lose the entire original support team – yup every one of them has resigned (hoo harr, I’m NASTY).  So fun and games all around me at the moment.

Spike, the flabby lay-around is now on an enforced diet which  might have been as easy to offer him a gastric band or something, lots of faff weighing out bits of food only to watch the cat devour it in seconds and wail for more. 

And this week we mourn the last of the Pear Dare, supped earlier on by yours truly – delish!

So, to the weekend, a fab meal planned by sexy chef Craig, champagne to celebrate his new job offer and plenty of laying around doing nothing.  Enjoy the weekend everyone.  Next week for us workers its a shorter one!!