Milkfloats - Where have you gone?

Morning all!

No update in a while so I thought I better motivate my ass into action. 

But what shall I write about, we have some art school frame hungry biatch looking like quitting x-factor, only she's blatantly not she's getting sympathy votes ready so she doesn't end up in the bottom two again next week. There's firemen threatening to strike on their busiest night, don't think putting people in danger is the way to get support lads, but no something far more burning...

On way way to work this morning I passed the milkman for my area. We don't use him it's cheaper in Tesco, but generally there's an older population around the new abode (still semi finished but I'll come to that) and as their fragile bones would crack on the walk (kidding) they tend to use the good old service.

Now this milkman, similarly to the one at my last house has long since ditched the idea of a milk float, and gone for a transit van. He also doesn't wear a uniform/hat etc destroying childhood imagery in seconds. But I was always under the impression Milk Floats were used in early morning delivery situations as they were very quiet, and him rocking up outside in one of them wont wake the baby.

The van he turned up in, pulled in behind me, I only saw it as the noise made me turn around thinking possibly our builders were turning up at stupid o'clock or something. I honestly can't say I had an intention or desire to speak to the guy so I didn't ask, why bin the silent electric for the diesel boom box, but I can only imagine it's down to speed. Why be nice and quiet and not disturb the pensioners when I can do twice the work and lay my hands on twice the cash? Seems to be a fairly typical attitude in service industries these days. Oh well.

Speaking of house, isn't Hugh Laurie... oh wait, wrong house, kudos to the previously mentioned builders who have completed work on the exterior brickwork of my conservatory. All we need now is glass and a floor and we can say it's done! Then, to the delight of our moany neighbours, we start work on the driveway and parking area in front of the house. Now I can understand they did get some dust over from the construction, but it's temporary so get over it. There is a risk we may look slightly anti-social though as we've put an elevated 4 foot fence up between 1 lot of neighbours and a 5 and a half foot wall the other way. He he.

Anyway it's off to work I go, then hospital to see an ill father. It's all go here!

The wonders of being homeless

Ok, ok I'm not homeless in the have nowhere to live kind of vein, and using the term is probably as melodramatic as I could humanly be. But it's still a pain in the arse!

To clarify, I recently bought a new house (woohoo) which had somewhat been left go to crap by the previous owner (boooo). As a result significant work was required to bring it up to the 21st century, honestly I think some would have been needed to bring it up to the 20th!

In the meantime, as we epically failed to sell our old house, we decided to rent it to a lovely local couple with a sprog on the way, but they've moved in now, relegating me (+2) to my either the mrs' fathers back bedroom, or my old bedroom in my folks house. Now I'm eternally grateful for this on every level, but I'm used to my own place now, and this is somewhat of a culture shock!

Of these my parents is the most extreme! No Internet is something, and their taste in TV is a bit... yeah. To be fair my mother watched Castle last night which is superb, Captain Hamm... I mean Nathan Fillion, an absolute delight to watch as always (except for desperate housewives) and I quite liked Silent Witness but the One Show?? Has such an awful cheesy idea been used since the 70s? It's like a TV version of Butlins entertainment, only on occasion I like Butlins entertainment!

The place hasn't even got an alarm clock, I have to use my phone where the alarm tone is the Bad Horse Chorus from Dr Horribles Sing Along Blog. Which one day this week led me to not walking up, but starting a dream where I was standing at the top of the stairs and the BHC were serenading me, over and over again from the bottom. I then woke up feeling very freaked out... and humming the tune... Anyway I digress...

We're pushing towards the end of the second week of work in the new abode. We have a wall knocked down, we have plastering done, we have new central heating, we have a full rewiring, redesigned back and a fully tiled kitchen, so it's getting there, but it looks like another week of house hopping is on the cards. I know it'll all be worth it in the end and we'll rock Heolgerrig (a place in Merthyr) at the house warming party. Patience Andrew, have some patience.

Anyway that's enough of me feeling sorry for myself, even the freaky train guy sat next to me who keeps reading all this over my shoulder (obviously I don't think he's dangerous or I wouldn't refer to him as freaky train guy ready for him to glance over my shoulder and go all hulk on my ass, he's just old weird and smells slightly of urine, he's also wearing a hat that's as close to a deer stalker as I've ever seen in real life) is looking bored.

So I shall leave you now, I'll write something later, or at least post a rejected newsarse article, I submitted one yesterday evening on the very unfortunate Chris Moyles and his lack of overpayment for the last 2 months, no word if it'll be used yet, but if it isn't... it'll be here. If it is (unlikely) it'll be there so I wont bother beyond a link on my twitter (www.twitter.com/andrewdrisc)

So TTFN