IT'S ALL GREEK TO ME

A mate’s dislike for management talk got me thinking. Everyone speaks like this in the office and after a while the odd phrase or two starts slipping into your own conversations and before you’ve realised it, you’ve become one of them. A clone. The living dead (or undead). I’ve included some examples below and what they really mean.

World – “I believe that sits in my world” means my megalomaniac tendencies have developed to a point were I see my four cubicles as an independent territory over which I rule despotically.

Offline – “I concede that we need to discuss this further. How about we take this offline?” means you are talking way too long about this and we are sick of hearing about it so shut up.

Going Forward - “Going forward we should ensure that all trades are captured” means because you have fucked this up so far I’m now telling you what you should be doing from now on so pay attention.

High Level – “My high level perspective on this” means I don’t really know anything about this but I’ll give you my meaningless opinion on this anyway.

Touch Base – “Can we touch base later?” means I really don’t want to talk to you right now so can you please call me at some other time.

Tactical – “I’ve implemented a tactical solution in the meantime” means it pretty fucked right now but I’ve sticky taped it together and let’s hope it doesn’t blow up before I leave for Brazil.

Leverage – “Let’s leverage off what equities currently do for this” means I couldn’t be stuffed coming up with our own process so let’s copy someone else’s.

WHERE WAS DAFFYD?

Ah Wales, a land where they speak gaelic (not homo tongue), drink beer, sing songs and play a little rugby. I was in Cardiff on Saturday to watch the rugby with some of the boyos. It’s almost as if they built the entire town around Millenium Stadium as an afterthought. It seemed like the whole city had come out to watch the rugby. All the roads were closed off to traffic and the bars were jam packed. Just before kickoff a mass of red humanity streamed out of the bars and pubs and into the stadium. Listening to seventy three thousand people singing the welsh national anthem was spine tingling. Listening to a hundred aussies singing Advance Australia Fair was equally moving (well almost). By all accounts after the game, the boys had a good time drinking beer and singing Tom Jones classics with the locals. I hot footed it back to London to the Metra (It took me four hours)

By the way we lost 24-22. Goodbye Mr Jones!

WAX OFF MR MIYAGI!

It was while I snoozed in the back seat of Deshy’s car dreaming about poppy fields that I heard the horrible news. Pat Morita had passed away at the ripe old age of 73. Pat had starred in Happy Days when they replaced the fat Italian Arnold but what I will always remember him fondly for is The Karate Kid. There were so many definitive films for me growing up in the 80’s like The Last Starfighter, Goonies, Raiders of the Lost Ark and above them all was The Karate Kid.

He played Mr Miyagi training the impulsive Daniel-san in the ways of “ka ra te”. Like a little Japanese Yoda he would impart pearls of wisdom to his protégé to teach him that karate was for self defence and never to be used in anger. That was unless, of course you were beating the shit out of other people in karate competitions.

This film had a profound effect on me. I remember spending hours trying to catch blowflys with chopsticks (I found it was much easier after you had sprayed them with Mortein). I spent days hopping around refining my crane technique and spent many an hour waxing my father’s car.

Thanks for teaching me that good always triumphs over evil. That playing an asian stereotype could almost snag you an Oscar and that doing chores could be fun.

Wax off Mr Miyagi……Rest In Peace

INAPPROPRIATE QUOTES

"All good things come to those who wait" Not something you want to say to Grandpa at the nursing home when he complains of bedsores.

MYERS BRIGGS V ATHENA STAR WOMAN (RIP)

I’m sure if you’ve worked for a company before you’ve probably done some sort of psychometric testing. They love trying to box you into some sort of category to make sure they’re fitting you into the right hole. I’ve actually done heaps of this type of stuff. Not because I’m loopy or have emotional problems but because I wear adult diapers. Sorry want to wear adult diapers. After eating one of Desh’s fiery currys you would to.

The first real job I ever applied for back home required me to do five hours of this testing. Five hours of ticking answers to inane question after insane question while praying I didn’t mess up the sequencing and come out looking like Charles Bronson. Oops Manson. By the end I didn’t really care what I was ticking in. Do you like small breasted women? Tick Yes. Do you like large breasted women? Tick Yes. Okay maybe not the best example but you get the picture. (If I wasn’t tired I would of ticked Yes then No. Read into that what you will)

After completing the test I spent an hour being questioned by the company psychiatrist. What is it about these guys that make me want to spill my guts? I don’t think he wanted to hear about how sad I was after my first dog Lucky died but he was quite nice about it. I can’t remember where I was going with this story. Ah yes.

Once again I have been subject to the corporate machinations of an unfeeling legal entity. They made me do the Myers Briggs personality test! Again! Apparently put together by two students in the ye olden days before fun was invented. It was based on the works of some German psycho analyst. Not the Freud guy. Briefly, what they said was that a person’s personality could be defined between four ranges. Extrovert v Introvert, Sensing v Intuition, Thinking v Feeling and Judging v Perceiving. I’m not going to bore you with what each one means and if you’re interested you can check out this link.

Effectively there are sixteen possible personality types that you can be. I was an ISTP (Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving). For each type they have come up with traits common to each. I will post mine so that you can tell me how appropriate it is. I will also post a personality profile defined by my star sign. Which one will be more accurate?

WHAT SHOULD I DO?

I may have mentioned this in passing but it looks very likely at this stage that I will be moving to New York in April. I lie! It’s set in stone as far as my boss is concerned. To quote her “You are going to New York!” I’m not sure why but I’m sort of indifferent to the idea of New York and the only reason I’m considering it is because I need a change. If they had told me I was going to Hong Kong then I would have been jumping around like I’d won the lottery or Average Joe. Let’s look at this subjectively.

PROS

1. It’s a great place to get blitzed.
2. There’s a Korea Town. (Last time I went there I had the kimchi dumplings and almost hurled when I left the restaurant. Must have been a bad batch. Britney likes kimchi because it reminds him of sauerkraut. Weirdo!) Korean food in the UK sucks!
3. Cheap shopping.
4. Americans are friendly. American girls are very friendly. Californians are very, very friendly.
5. Beer Pong.
6. There will be travel to Latin America involved with the new role.
7. Oh yeah and it might be good for my career.

CONS

1. My life would probably spiral uncontrollably into alcoholism and depravity.
2. I wouldn’t know anyone.
3. The legal drinking age is 21.
4. Can’t smoke in bars or clubs.
5. I hate getting grilled at immigration.

I’m still not sure…………

I'VE BEEN FLAT OUT.........

I haven't written a lot recently as I've been either too busy at work, hungover or really tired. I will update this blog as soon as I pull my finger out. Off to Cardiff this weekend for the rugby so expect to see some shots from the game.

WING WOMAN!

When is a wingman not a wingman? Well when she’s a woman. I went out for a feed and drink with Sandy on Saturday night. I might as well have worn a sign around my neck saying “Leper!” Girls wouldn’t have a bar of me and the Metra was chock full of cute girls. After a while I just gave up and drank. Sandy tried to feed me some crap about it being easier to meet girls with a wing woman. Yeah maybe if you’re a lesbian.

IN THE NAVY! YOU CAN SAIL THE SEVEN SEAS!

Being one of the young up and comers in the bank (ha ha), I was asked to go on a leadership workshop. As part of this workshop we would be going to the Royal Navy base in Portsmouth to have a go on the navy’s training apparatus. It is essentially a replica of a boat that was built onshore that they use to train their sailors in the very important art of plugging holes in your boat while at sea to stop it sinking.

It was fucking cold being November and I really wasn’t looking forward to going swimming but as I sat through the initial briefing I began to think to get into it and was starting to get excited (keep it clean boys). We were issued our overalls, dry suit, boots and helmet which we changed into and headed to the workshop for instruction on the different ways of fixing holes in ships after a rousing rendition of Y.M.C.A. As the instructor explained the seventh method I began to panic after realising I had forgotten the first six. He smirked as he mentioned that the water temperature would be a chilly 13 degrees centigrade.

As team leader in the diesel room I was expected to stand back and tell people what to do. I was shitting myself while trying to remember the builds I would need to do. Anyway it was too late for that now. The simulated attack began and we were ordered into the breach. The lights went out as the sirens began to blaze away. Smoke billowed into the room as I swung myself around the rim of the hatch to avoid the 120 psi jet of water that was shooting through it and climbed down into the diesel room. I stood there watching the water seeping through the hatch in the floor till a shout from my team brought me back to reality and I grabbed the wedges from them. The boat began to rock from side to side and water began flooding in. We immediately started work on plugging the holes in the wall and began the build on the hatch on the floor as we had been taught. Going back up the ladder to collect the stuff we needed to get the repairs in place. The water only got up to our knees and I was beginning to think that it was easy.

On came the second stage. This time when I entered the diesel room the water was already chest high and a jet of water smacked me in the back of the head as I came down the ladder. With the boat rocking I looked for a handhold to wait for my team to come down. With hindsight it was incredibly funny. Some of the girls in my team were already treading water as I grabbed them to stop them from floating away. Water was gushing in from multiple holes in the hull. It was so powerful that we had to literally hold people in place to stop them being knocked off their feet while they attempted to knock wedges into the holes.

This was the most fun I’ve ever had on a training course. Despite the mild hypothermia characterised by uncontrollable shivering and my inability to put two words together it was an absolute blast. What did I learn from this experience? That unless the West Indies Navy are recruiting to cruise the Caribbean and are offering essential training in water sports and cocktail mixing the Navy is definitely not for me. That in an actual war time situation I would probably crap myself. Mechanised Accounting Division anyone?

THE ROAD IS LONG, WITH MANY A WINDING TURN....

Smithy's journey home that night............pure gold.

left digress. (cant remember doing so!)
I think I roamed the streets looking for a bus!
found bus.
though hoped on a wrong bus (or bus going the wrong way)
fell asleep on bus.
woke up on bus.
my bus was at london bridge.
great. focus glenno
got off bus.
saw 24 hour store.
bought mexican pringles.
ate em.
recognised borough markets through my partially opened eyes.
walked across river.
walked down embankment up to the strand
gave bum 20p on the embankment
got sick of pringles so tony lockett AFL style kicked my pringles tin.
chips everywhere
found another bus on strand.
confirmed bus direction and destination.
sat down knackered (not like we had been standing all day)
fell asleep again.
but little were i to know that my oyster card did not swipe properly
bus stopped by about 20 ticket inspectors.
bus stopped somewhere between knightsbrige & hammersmith
everyone off bus
show us your tickets
unvalidated oyster says the standard african ticket inspector who cant speak properly even though i am the one who is drunk/wasted/very angry
give me £20 on the spot fine.
BullSh@it
yes sorry you have to give it to me.
BullSh@it
yes you do.....
pay fine
tell inspector to stick it and get a real job
police officer pulls me aside and threatens to arrest me if i dont move along
i move along and start walking the rest of the way to hammersmith
arrive flat 6/149 hammersmith grove at some stupid hour hoping we can win by two clear goals on wednesday.
didnt bother to check time as knew that was a lost cause.
i win prize for most post codes covered on foot/by bus

by the way, what are we doing wednesday for the game?

YOU ARE GAY, PARRA IS GAY WE ALL ARE GAY?

Saturday was a very, very long day. It seemed even longer than that time I spent thirty two straight hours on a mini-van/bus/mini-van/bus from Bangkok to Singapore. Australia and Uruguay were getting it on in Montevideo in a World Cup qualifier and there was supposedly only one place to watch it in town, Sportscafe in Picadilly Circus. With a capacity of six hundred and half a million Aussies in London who would potentially want to watch the most important football game that Australia has ever played. You do the math! Obviously we got there early, about seven and a half hours early to ensure that we wouldn’t miss it.

Luckily for us we got to sit through losing to England in the rugby and watching England beat Argentina in the football (though this was a really entertaining game) before the main event.

Despite the grainy, jumpy satellite footage we saw our boys do incredibly well to only lose 1-0 and give us our best chance of going to the World Cup since 1974. It certainly wasn't a place for women and small children (or dogs). The language was colourful in our description of Uruguayans, cheesy American commentators on mobile phones, referees and linesmen and if that dirty, mussell stinking, chocolate eating, cheating Belgian referee hadn't of given that dodgy free kick then we would never have conceded that goal! It was shoulder to shoulder and even I could see that!

Heartened by our boy’s heroic efforts and half cut I made my way to the Metra with couple of the fellas where I could barely stand and spent most of the time wondering why I was there. But don't worry Deshy reminded me, "Um, cute asian girls". Oh yeah that’s right.

ALL THE LEAVES ARE BROWN, AND THE SKY IS GREY....

I was on my way to Greenwich for a free dinner with Sandy when I thought I'd take a stroll around Westminster to take some tourist shots as I guess I've only got five months left in London and over the past two years I've taken bugger all photos. As you can see it was a typical grey, cold overcast day in London. Westminster was rammed with tourists. The most interesting thing for me was that the lawns of Westminster Abbey were covered with with crosses representing each British soldier that has died in the Iraqi conflict/war/insurgency (whatever you want to call it). It's kind of sobering to see so many of them.

ONCE, TWICE, THREE TIMES A CHONGER!

Oh yeah! Im almost a chonger! I've finally made it. All that hard work I've put in has paid off. I'm so happy I could almost cry.

I've made onto http://www.chopstick.co.uk , an exclusively chonger party website. Check it out!

And yes that is a picture of Anh kissing Han Lee. Normally I'd be all for this this but come on Anh. How could you?

OKTOBERFEST PICTORIAL!

A GROVELING PUBLIC APOLOGY!

It has been brought to my attention that I may have caused offence last Saturday night. I may have mentioned in passing that “I thought you looked slutty in those fishnets”. For some inexplicable reason I never thought that you would be offended and I humbly apologise if I caused any hurt in any way. To punish myself I’m issuing a groveling public apology. Please consider the following as mitigating factors though it still doesn’t excuse my actions in any way -

1. I had drunk 7 tequila shots.
2. I thought I was talking to Prieshka.
3. I assure you that I was not being serious. You looked totally cool. Not slutty at all.
4. I was practicing my ghetto slang. For example. Phat doesn’t mean you are obese but hot. You are bad means good. Yes means no……….just disregard this one.

It has been brought to my attention that this doesn't come across as a real apology. If this is the case then I'm also sorry about that as well.