Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Tuesday 3 August 2010

From my window I spot my neighbour leaving at 6.30AM this morning.  Of course she slams/bangs the door on the way out, it wouldn’t be her otherwise.

I’m not happy in my own home now and nobody appears to give a fuck about that fact.  Why am I paying a mortgage every month if I am only miserable in what I am forking out for?  Basically this girl is making me feel really down and unfortunately it is a feeling that I just appear unable to shake.

I don’t get to the station late today but I do almost miss my train, it is just getting into the station much earlier than usual these days.  The world is conspiring against me.

Thankfully the journey to London improves proceedings as people leave me alone.  This is some kind of bliss.

Soon the train reaches London and soon I find myself on a tube hurtling across town to places I would really be much happier living at.

When I finally get into work for a long while I am the only person in and as soon as I am in I am on the internet firing emails to various management company types.  I am currently fuming that nobody bothered to respond to my emails yesterday.  This is a shoddy showing from Countrywide my property management company:

“From: Sam George
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2010 9:16 AM
Subject: RE: 15 Hollytree Court Colchester

Hi Jason

Thank you for your email.

I assume this person lives at flat 15. If so, I will send a letter to the owner to advise of the incident. If anything else happens, I would recommend to contact the police.

Kind regards

Samantha George AIRPM”

If I am being honest I don’t think Samantha (Sam to her friends) could possibly have sent me a more infuriating email at this time if she had tried.  What kind of advice is it that I should call the police?  It suggests that they are going to do the bare minimum to address the situation and nothing else.

To me the response suggests passing the buck.  The reality is that Countrywide is my property management agent who I annually pay a service charge to in order for them to manage the complex.  They need to manage this otherwise my fees are funding only part performance of duties.

My day continues its bad streak as I discover that the Dedicated TV website has been pulled by its owner/administrator.  The guy is holding the users to ransom.  Which in a way is fair enough but I have TV that needs viewing (downloading).  How inconsiderate of that guy who is apparently earning no revenue off the back of a million hits on the website.  It’s a dirty job.

In the end I amuse myself when I find myself purchasing the domain www.cuntmuscle.co.uk.

From here the day turns out to be a nightmare as remaining indecision over the June accounts plagues proceedings and at 4PM I find myself thoroughly checking over figures with the operations manager who uncovers a series of duplication errors.  Basically the operations manager hands me my ass while later in a tense meeting the angry boss looks like he wants to tear somebody a new arsehole.  It’s a tough afternoon.

With less than an hour left at work I get dragged into restating the accounts when realistically this is not enough time to get it done correctly.  This is a job that needs looking at thoroughly and having just uncovered what we have with the operations manager there is a whole new set of things that require doing.

In the end the revised figures aren’t much better than the originals.  A tense meeting occurs and as I stand stoic I manage to avoid the crossfire as I overwhelm in the frustration of once more not being given enough time to finish/complete these tasks.  I preparation I arm myself with excuses, some of which are paper thin and generally do not reflect well on me.

Beyond the scolding, the bosses wind up sending over a compromised set of figures that I no longer have any idea what they are made up of.

As 5.30PM comes and goes I hang back a little late trying to rummage something out of the figures but ultimately with this kind of time frame it is a futile task that I am just not being afforded enough time to complete.  From here now I know what the expectations are I finally have something to work with, to aim at.  Focus.

Eventually I leave around 6.30PM with my tail between my legs.  At least when I do so the angry boss is in the toilet and operations manager already gone, so my sneak out is made easy.

To my surprise against this I manage to make it to Leicester Square on time as I head to the Leicester Square Theatre to see BRIAN POSEHN.  Once there I step inside where it is surprisingly quiet and sparse.  Stressed and thirsty I hit the bar where I pay £4 for the privilege of a pint of Amstel.  We have now passed the £4 barrier for a pint it would, sad and dark times.

Over the PA the black album by Metallica plays out.  It sounds righteous, never better.  While I sit waiting for the night to begin three rows ahead of me I spot Gibbs.  Promptly I text him to state that I am loving the Metallica and he turns around and gives me a hail Satan gesture.

ANDREW O’NEILL opens the night.  He is a heavy metal comedian who claims to be a crossdresser.  He is not necessarily fooling anybody.  Remember when Axl used to wear a kilt?  His look is not a million miles away from that.  I would imagine in the world of transvestism they would consider this a bad effort.

He does the metal thing with his set.  His coupling with POSEHN is obvious and works really well positively complimenting comedy’s other metalhead.  A lot of his set involves doing wordplay akin to Simon Munnery, even to the point that he is reading out puns from his notebook.  Without Munnery having blazed the trail for such delivery I don’t think O’NEILL would be doing this tonight.

At some point he does a joke about shaking hands with Abu Hamza, which embarrassingly sees me snort with laughter.  That’s good, right?  In the end the set closes with crowd participation as he conducts a version of Bohemian Rhapsody.

After such a rousing conclusion BRIAN POSEHN follows immediately, laidback and awesome looking like a real hero of funny mankind.  Here is a man with a look I think I could achieve, albeit not actually pull off.

It’s always good when a comedian possesses such a broad smile and even though early on he states how he now has a kid you suspect the smile originates from other sources.  One of his first statements is a kind of confession of how he once had a wank while his kid was crying.  From here he goes to great lengths to backtrack and justify his actions, which he pulls off and eventually has us mentally nodding in acceptance thinking “I can see that”.  We are all going to Hell, which POSEHN then later sculpts and describes as a pretty exciting place in itself.  Legend.

From here he moves onto subjects such as how he has confused his iTunes.  POSEHN is explicitly into metal but when he made the mistake of purchasing “Last Christmas” by Wham! to tease/taunt a friend with as driving music, ever since iTunes just does not appear to know what to recommend to him.  This is the modern world.

It’s a nice touch how tonight POSEHN feels able to share with us an anecdote of how his dog ran into his wife while sat on the toilet and promptly took a big lick of her vagina.  The question remains however does this constitute an affair?  Maybe even beastiality?  Without question an overriding sense of disappointment in the dog’s actions certainly prevails.

POSEHN is a man that feels the pain of his audience.  A good example of this is how he recounts seeing Megan Fox in the flesh and getting so incredibly angry that he could never in his wildest dreams have her or anyone like her.  His description of emotion is succinct, putting pleasant into words just how I feel but cannot express.

Throughout the set he keeps checking his UK references with the audience, such as having Lovefilm in his dick.  It works.

He pulls the show together in classy and grateful fashion as the theatre tonight is far from full.  Those who were not here without question missed out on one of the warmest standup shows I have seen all year.

Afterwards I again attempt to catch the attention of my friend but he isn’t having any of it as he runs to the toilet to powder his nose or take a dump.  As I exit POSEHN is already in the lobby meeting and greeting his metalhead fans.  How did he get around there so quickly?  As I leave I give him a nod as he responds with the friendliest of smiles.  Cool guy.

From here as usual I hop to Leicester Square station where I head up to Holborn and across to Liverpool Street.  Thankfully the night is still relatively young and with this I find myself on a relatively decent train home.

Tonight I return home to a letter from PMS (Terry Sutton) offering their management company services in unsolicited fashion, which is amusingly timed considering my dissatisfaction today with my own existing management company.  That said this (PMS) is a company that was supposedly threatening legal action against me in December.  This truly is poor form.  Does Terry Sutton realise what is going on?

With the time fast heading towards 11PM I actually manage to do some writing, which is completely out of character for me at this hour and suggests some kind of new drive.  In the background Big Brother plays out before becoming the work experience episode of Inbetweeners, which gets funnier with each viewing.  Later as Omid Djalili arrives doing his own version of standup comedy plays in the background, I fall asleep.

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