Saturday 3 March 2018

Welcome to 2018

Greetings and salutations, welcome to 2018, which for me so far, has been a 2017 rollover.  Surrounded by muppets, charlatans and wankers and it's only just turned March.  I've not raced since November as that particular meeting (the indoor one) had a number of people in attendance, a few of which simply cheese me off by their mere presence. 

Anyway, I've been working on my house and my woo-sah in the interim, Oh yeah, and my bike, Which doesn't look it's got anywhere but I have done stuff to it, much like the hallway if I'm honest.

The wifes Fibromyalgia continues to be a thorn in the side, mostly her side, obviously, but as  consequence, it results in the fun being sucked out of life on a continual yearly basis. 

Then there's the eldest stepsons father.  What can I say about this bloke that hasn't already been said?  He's a teacher, he's married to a teacher, and they have a spoilt child together.  She doesn't like the stepson, and has been campaigning to get him out of the house (the kid's 15 and autistic) over the course of the last year or so.  He's gone along with it too, with me nearly putting my fist into his ample body and face in the front yard last summer.  Finally, he's managed to turn his nipper against him enough so that his son doesn't actually want to live there.  So he's won on that front.  What makes it difficult, is that looking after an autistic teenager who has personality traits similar to his father is a difficult job and fucking annoying.

I mean, why must you have to remind them that they have to have a shower and clean their teeth everyday?  This is halfway through the day after I've showered, dressed, gone out, and come back, and seen the bathroom exactly how I left it 2 hours earlier, but they're clothed.


Next it's pricks at work, but because I make certain things at Portsmouths worst kept secret I can't tell you a great deal.  Suffice to say, they're similar to most other mid size private companies, where they hire blokes in shirts and letters after their name and a nice piece of paper from a higher place of learning, who know and display considerably less knowledge than the blokes on the shopfloor who have nothing but decades of hardcore experience from the various places they've worked at.  It pisses me off. 
Add to that, arse kissing bastards.  I hate them.

Which is probably why, after all my years, I'm still a normal time served/manual turner/cnc miller/programmer/precision engineer wearing jeans to work.  I don't kiss arse, someone gets my true opinion via my gob.  So, despite my years and skill, some wanker with a brown nose, silver tongue and a mouth full of bullshit will always trump me in the job stakes.


My "summer house" is almost finished.  I say almost, I have to do the soffit vents, insulate it, the glass I picked up today has to go in the door, as well as fitting the beading.  The actual floor is down but not the floor covering, Ie: carpet/laminate/lino etc.  Then of course there's electric to power the lights and whatever else.  That will be channeled in as and when.  I'm doing the patio at the moment then there's a nice lamp post to choose, then the groundwork, then I'll need a sparky. 
I reckon I'll have to an extra fusebox fitted for the outside stuff.  It's probably safer that way.
I'm chuffed though, I built it all myself from timber and it's the first time I've done something like that and it's lasted all winter and been leak free.  Big thanks to Biggsey though, who procured me the fasteners with which to screw the thing together and would've given me an actual hand had he not been going through a shitty time himself.


I was meant to be racing tomorrow for the Clanfield leg of the "Race against cancer" Steve and Bernie Memorial race but both legs have been cancelled due to the weather being a bit pony.
Bernie and Steve were well liked people in the RC racing community who both succumbed to the disease in one form or another late last year.  Bernie was a regular at South Coast RC and before that, Torch.  I have mentioned him a number of times in my previous blogs concerning racing.  Steve was Kevin Brunsdens Dad and all round nice bloke.  I spoke with him a few times and he always had enthusiasm for the hobby/sport but I didn't know him as well as Bernie as he was based around the Reading area so not as local but he was well liked by the guys from up that way, and most of them are sound so he gets my thumbs up.

Alas It's time to say goodnight, but remember, those with cushty jobs aren't always cushty people, sometimes they're utter Wankers.