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The Rushey Platt Villa

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Point of Honour

A while ago I mentioned AM. he's that geriatric New Zealander who just won't keep quiet. Well, as a young man he was in the East African Rifles in Tanganyika - I assume he is actually telling the truth about that although it would suprise me if its all bluster, he does tend to.. - and regards himself as an expert on all things african.   This morning, as we waited for the library to open, he commented at length on his opnions of the regretable violence that has escalated in Kenya. His opnion w

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Mistaken Identity

I've been shouted at by a woman as I left work yesterday. Don't know why - she just started on me and gave her opinions as to my capability. Yeah whatever lady, just keep taking the pills. No doubt she's bragging to her friends and family about how she saw me off, but could my lookalike please stop upsetting everyone?   Advert of the Week The banner hung on the front of the church I passed on the way to work said - 'Join the Alpha Course - Discover the meaning of life'. Isn't that typical of

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New Years Resolutions

The tv weather warning was very clear. Rainclouds moving into cold air right over Rushey Platt. Snow! Now since England is the one country in the world totally unable to cope with this phenomenon I decided to take precautions against inclement weather. Pointless. As usual, the snow avoided Rushey Platt like the plague. This always seems to happen. Some years ago the whole country was inundated with snowdrifts up to 6' deep - but not Rushey Platt, blissfully clear of anything remotely resembling

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Thunderbirds Are Go!

Some of you might have seen Thunderbirds, that wonderful 60's puppet series by Gerry Andersen. Every episode some daring engineering achievement goes horribly wrong, and our square jawed lads from a pacific island rush into action with their futuristic machinery to rescue everyone from the explosions guaranteed in the final moments. Well then. Sit back, switch the TV on, and watch as the Warehouse bring in our new office.   As forklifts go, this one is pretty big. It dwarfs the cabin resting o

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Merry Xmas

Its getting dangerous walking to and from work. That car salesman is watching me walk past like a predator on the african savanna under the shade of a tree. Quick Caldrail, avert your eyes, he'll think your wallet is open....   I've passed Santa on the street. looking very dapper, even effete without his usual white beard, and obviously on a diet. I think its like any celebrity, downdressing to avoid the publics attention.   Is it just me, or is this going to be the dullest christmas ever?

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Whats In A Name?

What is it about Christmas? All of a sudden the town center is full of people ambling about clogging up the pavement. Millions of them. They're everywhere. Where do these people come from? Is there a warehouse somewhere that stores them until the festive season? Are our motorways clogged every year by mass distribution of shoppers?   Someone in town called out to me. I couldn't see who it was given the swarms of shoppers sweeping majestically across the road. She used my real name which is so

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Caldrail - You're in Charge!

There I was, blissfully asleep after a long night before, woken by my mobile phone. Its AD, asking me if I wanted to come in on my day off. No, not really, but one has to make sacrifices to impress the boss (don't really want to be dumped by the roadside again). So, hungover and bleary eyed, I trudge into work to find that AD has decided to take the day off and so I must assume command of the operation. Lorries turn up to collect our goods but don't know what they're supposed to be taking away

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Big H Says Hi...

Who should I bump into today, but AS. This guy is reliable, a good worker, and a good communicator. Ok, he likes his tea breaks, but at least he does something useful in-between conversations. He used to work for SB in the Hangar, now he works for our new host company, and a lot happier he is too.   Thing is, AS is annoyed at Big H, who sent a text message on his mobile phone to the effect that he was in the Hangar.   Then he sent a text message to tell AS he was working in the office.  

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Our New Home

Today has been my first day at the new warehouse. Poor old AD can't cope, there's no official office for us yet (Its a portacabin buried behind stock in another unit nearby) and he's got nowhere to plug in his fridge and microwave. Now there's a man with priorities. At the moment, our office is a pile of pallets shoved into one corner. Cool. Especially in winter...   And what a site! Its huge!! Enormous!!! They give you a map when you sign in at security and boy oh boy do you need it. Warehous

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Getting Ahead In The Workplace: Vol 1

Cars mean different things to different people. Many buy cars they can afford, others buy cars for covenience. Some buy big 4x4's to compensate for small body parts, some for status at the golf club, others buy sporty cars as automotive *iagr*. Now some cars are icons, others are good value, some are simply excruciating and an embarrasement to be seen in. Why would you pay thousands of pounds for somewhere to put a coffee cup?   The Vauxhall Vectra is right there at the pinnacle of naffness. T

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Women In Charge

I don't usually like to sound sexist, but I've decided that after many years experience, women bosses are useless.   Why?   First is DG. She rose to power on the basis of impressing the male managers with her knowledge and expertise of our database workstations. Actually I don't think she knew that much - she was just better than most of making a big thing of it. Anyhow, she became the warehouse manager. All very smart and efficient, but she never left her office. The whole warehouse got to

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Goodbye to the Shed

Thats it, my last day in the shed. Big H was friendly and almost engaged us in conversation! Especially with AD, who he never forgave for comparing a sheepdog as his dad. First time those two have spoken in twelve months.   I notice an english teacher got arrested in Sudan for allowing kids to name a bear 'Mohammed'. I get called names all the time but no-one arrests them. I'd shout back at them but under british justice the poor dears would get me arrested for breaching their peace. On the ne

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After the Night Before

Sunday morning is a time when we survey the damage left by late night revellers. A womans shoe is on the pavement, a sure sign that Cinderella went to the ball and decided that Prince Charming wasn't charming enough. Not really suprising since he and his mates were drunk, engaging in a singing competition in which random lyrics are put to random melodies and may the loudest voice win. Every week this goes on. Where's Simon Cowell when you need him?   At any rate, Cinderella was probably on a g

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The Big key Debate

We don't own the Shed we work in. No, we rent it, at a stupid price, from NF the site manager. NF wants us out of the Shed so he could squeeze us in with all our pallets in the Hangar, and rent the Shed to someone else at an even stupider price. Which sort of backfired a little because we're shortly to move down the road to rent warehouse space from a professional company at a stupider price still.   Now I turn up for work one morning. I have to walk through the Hangar to reach the yard, but f

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Lords and Ladies

The notable absence this week has been Small H. I asked UT about his whereabouts, and was told that he'd gone 'ferreting'. For those unacquainted with British wildlife, the ferret is a small furry predator that is tradiotnally used to warm the nether regions in winter. I suspect Small H has a more practical use for his pet. Oh, but I can't call him Small H anymore. Apparently he's from an important landed family, very big in ferreting circles, and from this point forward I shall call him Lord H.

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The Daily Commute

Another working day, so finish the breakfast, lock up the house, and walk down to the car. This morning the mechanics of the garage opposite have decided to forego the usual cut and thrust of car repair, and instead opt for the traditional teabreak. They line up at the top of the ramp, bellies thrusting inside their oily overalls, cups in hand, eagerly predicting the visual spectacle of Caldrail Going To Work. Man and machine in no harmony whatsoever.   Right. Here goes. Key in slot. Turn... A

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Oh please don't sulk....

My trusty motorcar decided to have a sulk yesterday. I finished breakfast, locked up the house, and walked down to the car to go to work. It wouldn't let me in. The door was jammed solid. I cursed, I begged, I pulled the handle in a frantic tantrum. No, the car isn't talking to me. Can't get in the other side either, the cockpit is too cramped. So I call the breakdown people. They were very sympathetic and promised someone would turn up in an hour. He nearly made it too, despite a bad car crash

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People Spotting

Today I'm at the local library.. So who's in this morning?   Ahh.. As usual Mr AM makes his unhurried entry. He's an elderly New Zealander, over here to find his family, and after seven years they're still not answering his emails. Always first through the door, always slowing everybody else down with his two walking sticks, always bullying an unsuspecting interloper off his favourite PC, and always smiling at young Miss L (She's a pretty lass, desperately bored with library work). Give him a

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The Case of the Missing Screwdriver

In the shed next door to ours is a load of disused racking. UT, otherwise known as the 'Gypsy', has always insisted that the site manager, NF, had told him he could take it away anytime. NF on the other hand argues the opposite, and insists on payment. Well finally The Gypsy had his way and turned up to dismantle the racking and cart it away fror scrap. He borrowed a screwdriver from us for the purpose.   UT and Small H have their own way of dismantling. Instead of top down as any sane person

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Welcome to Rushey Platt

Deep in the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire, the natives are restless. The Independent Peanut Republic of Rushey Platt has decided to go public, to reveal its ancient mysteries to the world. I suppose that means we have to accept tourists too but you can't have everything.   So what is the Republic of Rushey Platt? Well, when I was unemployed I decided it might be a cool idea to declare my idependence from the UK government. That way I could ask for Foreign Aid and get paid millions of pounds

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