Monday, March 31

Machine? Mother!

The final 24 hours of Las Vegas were an enjoyable gamble-fest with my Phoenix co-workers and my colleague of 20 years Emma.

Emma's first time in Vegas begins with bedtimes of 3am and 6am, so I wasn't looking forward to the statistical progression.

Emma is my Business Manager. On this trip I taught her to play Poker, Craps and Blackjack.

Sunday afternoon she threw a Double 2 on three consecutive throws. That won me hundreds of dollars.

Sunday evening we played Blackjack Switch which has a little poker style side bet. Emma was dealt four 4s. This won her $400.

And Sunday night I hit a bunch of 4 of a kinds at Video Poker so we decided to just play the one machine (at the bar) and play down $150.

We finished at 2.30am. It was at this point Emma turned back into a mother. "I didn't get the kids any gifts yet! Do you think the shops will still be open?"

We got back to the hotel at 3am and I swear she said she wasn't tired. I on the other hand ... felt dead!

We still met for breakfast at 7.30 ... and a little time for gambling.

Sunday, March 30

HR we have a problem

Saturday night our group of 8 headed for Rose.Rabbit.Lie.

Don't ask what it is. Even their website struggles.

For starters you eat over-priced tapas dishes while risqué cabaret acts perform by your table.

But post-dinner you enter a small theatre where before your eyes a cavalcade of craziness performs.

My favorite ... and I wish I had a video.

The Accountant
On walks a lady in a tweed 2-piece. She does the disappearing hanker-chief in the closed-fist hand trick. Only to reveal it is inside her jacket ... which she then removes. She does the trick 5 times. Jacket off. Skirt off. Bra off. Knickers off. Finally she pulls the hanky from out between her legs. Genius.

Also there was a contortionist in a big plastic sphere, tap-dancing dudes, spinning-wheel acrobats, a beat-boxing lady, and a guy who balanced on a tower of ever-decreasing-sized upturned buckets.

Oh, and a guy in a dragon outfit getting volunteers to shoot a chihuahua in the face.

The finale saw a burlesque-ish lady drum up money for a fake charity for kids abused by musical instruments? Through elaborate wordplay this pledge-drive created 2 acronyms. B.I.T.C.C.H, and C.U.U.N.T.S.

I think it was during the 23rd shouting of C.U.U.N.T.S. (and possibly amplified by the lady laying down, legs open, pointing at her cooch) that one of my co-workers walked out. I'm not sure because at that very moment a male member of the troupe was striding over the top of my seat in his Y-fronts with just a sliver of frayed cotton separating his ball-sack from my recently shampooed hair.

As a coup de grâce we were pelted with ping-pong balls.

I'll call HR on Monday.

Saturday, March 29

There must be an Anjel (sic)

Quickly transferred to my rightful place on the north side of the hotel overlooking those pesky fountains.

At breakfast I am reminded of my mother-in-law's wisest advice.

Hold onto your knife and fork at a buffet.

Gamble, cocktail, watch co-workers on roller-coaster, gamble, cocktail. What a day.

This afternoon I headed to the plush spa for a Herbal Fusion Detox. God bless Anjel for thinking I gave a shit as she ran through the Organic melange of twattery she was about to apply to my toxin riddled torso.

She gave me a minute to get under the sheet. I hung my robe on the back of the door. Kicked off my flip-flops by the bed, and last minute decided to go commando flinging the CKs on top of the flip-flops.

We chit-chatted through-out the procedure. Anjel is a portly happy woman of Asian origin who is impressed by Mr. Richard's commitment to relaxation.

Half-way through I look like a wall in Maze prison and it's time for a steam shower.

At this point Anjel applies the flip-flops to my feet and then says, "I'll put your underpants in your robe pocket."

Fuck! I can feel those toxins coming back!!

Believing Anjel will tell me when to stop showering I proceed to have a 20 minute shower until she asks when I'm coming out.

Back on the table she applies a tropical butter to my wrinkled skin.

Afterwards I head down to the shower room but notice they have a steam room.

Toweled up I open the door. It's so steamy I only notice 7 pairs of knees, but I can tell it's a 'Cocks out' type of vibe.

In case I knew any of the 7 guys in there. "Hello. Sorry I couldn't see your face."

Viva ... you know the rest

Took a trip with a difference to Vegas this weekend.

This is an 8 person work trip as a thank you for successfully launching the first phase of a new brand.

We're staying at the Cosmopolitan. It's like the final days of Sodom and Gomorrah here.

Or else there's a fake tit convention in town.

Tried to check in at 12.30am to be told they were still waiting for my room to be cleaned.

BBQ goat and lube are a bitch to clean.

Instead I am downgraded, which means I'm sent to a suite that does not look down on the Bellagio fountains. First World Problem or what?

Add on the East coast time difference and it's 4am by now, but I'm in the mood for some gambling.

I manage to elbow my way to a slot on the cheapest craps table .. only $25.

Manage to do OK before the combo of cigar and hooker perfume tell me to go back to my shitty suite.

This is the view that I awake to just 4 hours later. Bullshit!

Monday, March 24

Life lessons from walking around a lake

I'm still on this pedometer kick. I'm hoping to average 10,000 a day for the whole of March, so I tend to walk around Fresh Pond most days.

First up, you slowly become a regular.

The nutty couple in their 80s who walks around at such a slow pace I'm surprised I don't find them frozen to death in a bush each day.

The woman with the cute terrier who smiles at me because her dog always makes me smile.

The young Asian woman who runs like she is in such pain, and hides her hands inside her shirt so that she looks like a mannequin.

And psycho dude who always wears an anorak with hood pulled tight.

Not sure what people think of me. I've started to wear a woolly hat over my big headphones, so I must look like a gigantically deformed head from afar.

Distance is measured in songs. It takes 9 songs to get around the Pond, or 4,500 steps. No idea how far it actually is.

The past 2 days as the ice has begun to melt I've seen two instances of dog owners throwing balls into recently melted water. This seems cruel when the dog goofily bounds in to rescue the ball.

Yesterday I saw this scene. I'd like to think the ducks believe they are on vacation and they booked poolside lodgings.

Wednesday, March 19

Snippy little twat

There's a story regarding Tesco Orange Juice doing the rounds.

This sarcastic little shit-head spotted an error on the carton.

Here's part of this quote.

"Sitting down for breakfast as usual, I picked up a carton of Tesco orange juice – and noticed it described itself as 'most tastiest'. 'Most tastiest'? Surely not? It could be 'most tasty' or simply 'tastiest', but never 'most tastiest'.

"That's just wrong, and I was so astonished, especially as Tesco is such a large company, that I almost started pouring the orange juice on to my Weetabix.

"My mum stopped me just in time, but when I told her about Tesco's 'most tastiest' orange juice, she was just as surprised."

OK, first up douchebag you could plausibly consider that Tesco purposely used ad speak.

But let's go with it being an error.

How good is this schoolboy/grammatical genius?

best quality should be highest quality

Fruit is used in the plural so change makes the grade to make the grade

Unless they only used one orange, We squeeze or press it should be We squeeze or press them

only when it's should be only when they're

Change at it's tastiest to when they're most tasty 

That's 5 errors the smug little fuck missed.

Still funny that Tesco are so shitty.

Monday, March 17

I do not think so

So L.A. had a 4.4 earthquake today.

I believe that's the vibrational equivalent of a toy poodle farting into a shoebox.

Or to put it another way, even Marky Mark wouldn't feel the vibration.

Anyhow, I spotted this zinger of a quote on the BBC.

"It felt like a bomb going off underneath our house. Nothing was damaged, but it sure woke everyone up."  resident George McQuade told the AP news agency.

I'm pretty sure a bomb going off under the house would cause damage.

What George should have said was, "It felt like an alarm clock going off, it sure woke everyone up." 

Next time George use this handy mnemonic -

Alarms wake you up. 
Bombs fuck you up. 
Clocks wake you up. 
Dynamite fucks you up.

Sunday, March 16

Oh Think Twice

Took a stroll down to breakfast this morning and Phil Collins was playing on the radio.

Maybe when you're actually in paradise this song is more relevant, but he still makes me retch.

Sun. Lovely sun greets my morning walk. As do huge catamarans and sea planes!

All good things must end and I drove back to the airport to be berated again by Hertz for only staying for a day.

Checked in for my flight and found myself surrounded by college kids.

Listening in to their droning chat it appears they deem no wi-fi to be the equivalent of the civil rights movement of the 1960s.

"Would sir like a smell of Nicki Minaj's Minajesty?".

I politely declined. Think we can all guess what that smells of.

Also chose not to purchase a 6lb Toblerlone.

Duty Free never disappoints.

Saturday, March 15

Day Tripper

Today's the day I head to St. Thomas for the weekend.

Promising weather awaits!

I'm greeted by heat, glorious heat at St. Thomas, and a charming Hertz lady who berates me for only visiting for a day.

They have American cars but drive on the left side of the road in the US Virgin Islands. No clue why. I read somewhere it was a leftover of old colonial Dutch rule, but the Dutch drive on the right - so that's bollocks.

Turned out of the lot into ... a FedEx parking area. 180° later I headed out of the airport and immediately saw aquamarine seas and a white beach. Zing!

I walked around a supermarket for 2 hours. That's the work out of the way.

Also took some time to text photos of tropical beauty to people in colder locations. Asshole!

Later I took a ferry to neighboring St. John. Just a 30 minute ride, but 30 minutes of sitting in the sun was heaven after the catastrofuck of a winter we have had.

Coming back to St. Thomas my trip was almost ruined by a man threatening to play the bagpipes. Thankfully there were some sunburnt drunken girls elsewhere on the ferry who wished to be hit on by a guy in a skirt. Crisis averted!!

Checking into my hotel room I opened the blinds to discover I was positioned right outside the Big Cock Bar.

Insert your own innuendo here.

Finished my day with fresh fish, a couple of Red Stripes and then neurotically fell asleep wishing I hadn't read about bed bugs on Trip Advisor.

Thursday, March 13

Less reasons to shop at Morrisons

UK retailer Morrisons (and former client!!) announced a £176 million loss today.

"We've identified over $1bn of cost that we can take out of our business over the next three years," said Dalton Philips, chief executive of Morrisons.

He confirms the supermarket will be cutting some of its lines. "We had 15 tinned tomatoes recently, we cut it down to five - we don't need that sort of range".

Firstly I would hope Morrisons have more than 15 cans of tomatoes in their stores. This is not the Stalinist Soviet Union after all.

But is 15 types of canned tomatoes so exotic? I've done ranges of 24 for small supermarkets here in the US, and one of my clients has more than 30.

Come on Morrisons shoppers, stand up and demand Petite Diced Italian Roasted Tomatoes with Chilies. You deserve them. Probably.


Tuesday, March 11

Now that's a miracle

A publisher has launched a magazine devoted purely to the Pope and it's a big smash.

This certainly proves the new Pope's credentials.

Anyone who can be involved with a successful print media launch in this day and age has to be a divine sent miracle worker.

I'm not making this up. The magazine features a centerfold of the Pope.

Who puts that on their bedroom wall?

Sunday, March 9

Billy Ocean

So I've had a change of plan. I'm not going to Jamaica any time soon.

But next weekend I am heading to St. Thomas in the USVI for the weekend.

Not sure if I will see Billy and/or his Caribbean Queen, but a day in the Caribbean should be long enough for me to get a sunburn.

Saturday, March 8

How 'bout that!

I've an "I'm a twat" mug at work, so it was quite nice to receive this photo the other day asking if I'd had the mug all my life.

Friday, March 7


Thanks to Jeff for texting this to me.

It comes in 5 colors, but none of them are yellow.

Here's another thing I don't specifically need, but it's better than a Shewee.

Thursday, March 6


There's a standing joke about Americans that when they realize you are from the UK they mention a lost aunt who lives in Dagenham. The factoid is usually followed by "Do you know her?"

The comparative trait amongst the British is to base all of their knowledge of America on a Thompson's 10 day package holiday to Florida.

I once winced as an old colleague compared Yorkshire's best restaurants with his dining experience at a fucking Applebee's in Tampa.

None of this has anything to do with the fact that my sister is bringing all of her family to Florida in June for 2 weeks of theme park frivolity.

However, I noticed her trip coincided with England playing their warm weather pre-World Cup games in Miami. Even better it's during the weekend Anne and I planned to pop down and see them.

So it's with great excitement that I'm heading to the Sun Life Stadium with 'all the blokes', while Anne gets to prance around Miami Beach with all the ladies - you will recognize them by their paleness!!

Ah yes. Just remembered why I started with the "Do you know my aunt" cliché.

Our weekend in Florida will require 8 hours of driving from Orlando to Miami and back.

And we laugh at Americans doing the UK in 10 days on a coach tour?

Wednesday, March 5

No she did it voluntarily

My company had a very positive meeting today with a retailer who appear to have a large Caribbean and Central American presence.

In the name of research I may need to fly to Kingston for a store audit.

Jamaica? No she did it voluntarily.

It's a tough job but someone has to do it.

Monday, March 3

Lupita wins Blue Peter Badge

Congrats on the Oscar Lupita, now let's get her a Blupita Badge. Groan!

Sunday, March 2

Purple is so 2013

Anyone who enjoys Fashion Police knows that the show would be so much better if Kelly Osbourne died.

She's fucking rank. Fashion wise the only thing that would look good on her is an industrial refrigerator.

So it is with great fanfare that I direct you to Kelly's rebooted website where she indulges us all in her fashion-forward thinking.

So if you excuse me I have to go watch the E-Channel's Pre-Red Carpet show with Kelly and the surprisingly heterosexual Ross Matthews.

I'm the guy 2nd from the left

Here are artistic impressions of the proposed changes to the Cambridge Prison in my neighborhood.

Out go misogynist prisoners, in come people who shop at The Gap. Not sure which is worse.

As Anne said, the rendering looks good. But that's the point of a rendering!

It also looks like one of the restaurants is called Fish 'n Chips. It won't be as good as Kev's, from my home town.