Archive for the entertainment Category

Let’s Get It Up

Posted in canon g10, entertainment, Humour, life, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on January 16, 2010 by norvenmunky

These past weeks I have mostly been decorating. This means one is ‘supervised’ as one cannot clearly be trusted to

A/ Not paint nob shaped murals on the wall
B/ Do any work

You don't have to paint one on the wall ....

Whilst under supervision in the big room a set of aloominum ladders was in use. The big room has some big windows in it and said ladders were in the vicinity of the big windows. The ladders were in use for painting the ceiling, and NM had descended from height to replenish the bucket of ‘Pure, Brilliant, Shite’. Having stepped off the ladder and now turning his attention to not spilling the paint on the floor, Mrs NM, (Supervisor, Nob Mural Prevention Section), shouts out NM’s name. Now needless to say NM looks at ‘Supervisor’ and asks ‘What?’ Supervisor is shouting, and she’s nearly as loud as Mr Rukin when he’s frightening the bog into the corner, by kneeling on the floor, and shouting at it.

Now even with a few pints ‘in the bank’, I know, who I am, and, my name. So, whilst sober, the thought occurs that the supervisor has now engaged in some sort of bizzare charades game, where she doesn’t even bother with a mime, merely points at the object in question (me), and shouts it’s name. ‘Do I need to be bigger than a dog?’ I’m thinking, and ‘this is a bit easy’, when the silence is broken by a metallic crash as the ladders just miss the big window, and end up on the big floor. At the subsequent somewhat ‘public’ enquiry, the idea of shouting was allegedly to gain my attention to the falling ladder. This is obviously a ‘wimin’ thing.

Now, there’s two distinct, and different, approaches here. Blokes would shout ‘ladder’ at the very least, thus drawing attention to the problem area, the ladder. Wimin think the same way, but rather than the ladder being the ID’ed problem, it’s the bloke that’s ID’ed as the ‘problem area’, hence being shouted at. The ladder clearly having been relegated to ‘bit player’ in the ensuing chaos.

Still I’m going to get my own back. New year resolutions mean that one is being herded at gunpoint towards an evening ‘Polaris’ class, or something that sounds like that, I wasn’t paying that much attention to be honest. I imagine that means loads of wimin stretching, grunting and rolling around on the floor pretending to be submarines. It’ll only be a matter of time before I’m sent home in disgrace having demonstrated the ‘up periscope’ position …

Brown Sugar

Posted in entertainment, Humour, life, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on October 10, 2009 by norvenmunky


This week we have mostly been training. It’s that time of year that the HR department realises they’ve persuaded enough skilled, really useful people to leave, and they now have to cover the shortfall in ‘skills’. Unfortunately those that leave aren’t the bright sparks (in a transport company), that determine to commemorate the Kings Cross Underground fire, the best way is to have two minutes of silence. The commencement of which, is the sounding of the fire alarm…

Mostly the skills shortages are covered by existing staff, but when your elfin safety, environment, and first aiders leave you have to ‘replace’ them. The replacement of these ‘key personnel’ is a selection process assisted by shift work. You simply allocate someone who’s on a day off, as the nominated ‘volunteer’. Sorted.

Thus when they return from days off they open the HR email cordially inviting them to their ‘First Aiders’ course, and as everyone else is busy they have to attend. This means six hours of ‘Death by Powerpoint’ and WWF status wrestling matches with life sized dummies. These are sometimes referred to as ‘Instructors’. Needless to say the idea here is to get to the pub at dinnertime and sink as many ‘Vitamin T’s’ into the instructor as you can.

After several coma inducing lectures in the afternoon there’s the bonus 15 minutes of ‘Any Questions’. This is where you get to ask questions on the subject at hand. Now we all know how to play ‘Bullshit Bingo’, but the ideal here is to get the instructor to cover a subject matter that could plausibly occur, in extremis. So, roll the dice on diabetic recovery.

Now the instructor will cover the normal scenarios, not unreasonably. Seeing as you’ve been down the pub, and its a Friday, when they’ve finished, roll the dice again and ask about Rectal Infusion. At this point you’ll hear all the chairs scraping the floor, as everyone positions themselves to be fastest on the draw for pointing at someone else, anyone else frankly, to ‘volunteer’ for the demo.

Now this would be a highly unusual procedure at the best of times, but remember this is work, in extremis, and you’ll be left with a minimum of equipment and choices, especially at 02:00am in the morning. Fortunately we’re next to the engineers section, so it was determined the MEL (Minimum Equipment List), would comprise, 3ft of garden hose, a pair of rubber gloves, a funnel, and a can of Vimto from the drinks machine, for the sugar hit.

Now anyone with a engineering background or an ounce of practical common sense can see how they would fit together, and where. Now the problem with the demo was that in the sniggering at the back of class, a vital part of the MEL was missed. That element was the ‘to’ of Vimto. So, unfortunately, as it turned out, they supplied …

A simple mistake under the ‘five pints’ rule.

Now I’m informed, I hesitate to say reliably, that 330ml of carbonated beverage up your chuff will get your attention, regardless of sugar levels. So, the application of ‘several’ ml, (well it looked about right after five lunchtime pints, you know how it is), of concentrated cleaning solution would also appear to ‘revive’ the recipient. You could tell immediately after application that the reaction, and reduction to 0.5mm diameter accompanied by small children covering their ears, rats and mice running in all directions, and dogs barking was unusual. ‘Do they always whistle like that?’ the instructor was asked, as we all looked away from what appeared to be a full stop in the centre of a very muddy roundabout.
Well, its fair to say that the description of ‘raging homicidal maniac’ seemed somewhat lacklustre to describe the quite rapid personality transformation that occurred within the volunteer. Not only was there a very high pitched whistle accompanying the somewhat vitriolic outburst, he was now belching like a navvy in between the shouting, the gasses having now found the path of least resistance.

Next week, environment, and how to get stubborn monkey stains off your ceiling. I can’t wait …

I Can Hear Your Heartbeat

Posted in entertainment, Humour, life, photography, Stage school, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on May 20, 2009 by norvenmunky


Well its been a while since NM broke cover, fortuitously since the slug incident, things have been quiet. Ever so sportingly arranging to be out of the drum when Mr Hoovers finest was fired up in anger again probably helped. I’m led to believe ‘dried’ slug is a bit wiffy too. Mrs NM commented ‘the Hoovers making a really odd smell’, ‘Is it?’ NM replied, taking an inordinate amount of interest in assorted paint color swaiths the boss had brought in. One wonders sometimes if you can ‘over egg’ the pudding.

Anyhow in the intervening period ‘The Berg’, reminded by the GCM’s hoofing and footlight performances, has related the story of his mixing with the luvvies 43rd Light Artillery Dance, and Mime Field Regiment. Picture the scene as proud parents in ball-less strapgowns, Dj’s, cummerbunds, (Berg, jeans T-shirt), etc assemble to view their offsprings finest endeavours, in the field of unarmed, hand to hand, dance and mime. ‘The Berg’ continues …

Berg is godfather to the twin daughters of his good friend Dr S; a man with more letters after his name than in it. ( I’ve counted). Now eight years old, the gruesome twosome attend dancing lessons run by an ex leading light in tripping the light. When comfirming the date of his most recent visit to the Dr S household, Berg was informed he was to attend the forthcoming prize-giving. Along he went, expecting a few kids and parents and a quick finish. He was thus surpised to arrive amid some 400 parents and kiddies ranging from 5 to 15 yrs old. Recorded music was playing and the children were dancing the routines they had learned. Photography was allowed so your scribe was locked in combat with low light and high ISO. After a while everyone sat down around the dancefloor and out came the guest, professional dancers. They proceeded to give several demonstrations of how it should be done properly. Between numbers, the male partner spoke a few words to the audience. He asked who was everyone’s favourite dancer on Strictly Come Dancing. Looking back, Berg has to admit that given the dance-enthusiast audience, John Sargent probably wasn’t the most apposite name to loudly call out.

However, the highlight was still to come. For the next number the female partner wore a rather fetching dress with skirt split all the way to her waist. During the dance she was held by her partner horizontally at his shoulder height as he spun round. Sir Isaac Newton be blessed, gravity had its way and the skirt fell to the side. This revealed, how shall we put it, a ‘Wardrobe Malfunction’ !! However this was to make Janet Jackson’s threppenies wafting around the Superbowl look a bit tame.

This was much more of a Super Bowel type thing, for the geographers among you we are talking the amazonian basin. For the Zooologists a Dromadarian Pedicure Exhibition. There was nervous laughter from the mums. There was a hushed, some say almost reverential, ripple of applause. In the silence that followed you could indeed hear peoples hearts beating, mixed with the faint aroma of a distant canning factory.

The dads and ‘The Berg’ sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed the view.