Yep, that is definitely an Albie.
All enthusiasim and no clue 
The weekend deal was as follows.
The boss was going to the spa on Monday with a friend so I could have today to myself provided I tightened some screws holding a shelf that sheād put up.
7hrs later Iāve taken the shelf down, put it an inch higher, put a second shelf higher up, repaired the wall where there were plug holes from the first effort, built a mini green house, filled and sealed some skirting boards and have now moved into another room to do the same there.
Iāve concluded that our opinions vary on what a day off means.
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Iāve been processing something for the last week and decided to post it after seeing @ILLOK post about David Brooks in the General Footie thread.
I mentioned somewhere else recently about a team I played on in the 90s got inducted into its University HoF the weekend before last. The recognition was nice, but what was really special was the opportunity to have one more weekend with a great group of guys, some of whom I hadnāt seen in 20 years. But last minute we had one significant drop out. Turns out our striker got diagnosed with liver cancer back in February. He was told itās terminal and just could not bare it. Only a small number of people knew before hand, but he agreed for everyone to be allowed to know as a way to explain his absence. I think heād only just turned 40 when he received the diagnosis and now weāre talking a matter of weeks before itās all over.
This group really epitomized the idea that itās not how long you know someone that determines the bond, but how important the things were that you worked on together. He was a guy I knew would be there if needed even if we hadnāt spoken in 10 years, and now Iām at a complete loss to know how to be there for him.
I donāt really know how to process any of this, but just make sure the people who are important to you know they are before you lose the chance to show it.
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the most valuable thing in life, is time. itās finite and uncontrollable, the only thing you can do is manage how you use it. one of my biggest regrets in life was when I heard my best friend from my childhood died last summer from a Grand Mal and I hadnāt spoken to him in 10+ years, just grew apart.
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I lost a mate through suicide, and I hadnāt spoken to him for a while. So, feelings of grief, guilt and despair rolled into one complex reaction.
But reflecting with other mates, we can only do what we can with keeping up communication. Sometimes its not reciprocal, for any number of reasons. Sometimes its busy lives getting in the way. Sometimes its just not meant to be.
We know now, through that experience that it isnāt about how often we talk, its about knowing that we can talk whenever its best to do so. Life moves us through stages, and those stages may diminish a communication with someone in a previous lifeā¦but it doesnāt mean we or they donāt care, it just means that if they remain important, that its never out of reach.
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I feel for you.
My brother commited suicide 2 months after coming to visit me with my Mum. At my ādigsā we were having quite a do for my Birthday, BBQ and beers etc. At one point my brother pulled me aside and started talking about suicide ā¦ quite a difficult situation, I murmerred a few wors but cut the talk short as others were coming through, including my Mum. It was the last time I talked to him. Really painful. (He hung himself qwhich btw had come up in our conversation, I will spare you the details). 
The feelings of guilt can hang around some time but when your close and a death in any manner occurs itās the sadness you feel thinking about what could have been if this hadnāt happened when they where so young.
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Thats really tough. A dreadful experience for you.
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cannot imagine how heavy that must weigh. Sorry to hear that, really am.
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@Quicksand @Flobs I canāt even imagine how terrible/difficult it is to live with such memories. I hope you have the strength to find peace. My prayers are with you. 
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Yesterday morn, I was having one off the wrist, as it goes, watching āWorship my Latina Assā on my phone.
A couple hours later, I go to the 7-11 to buy cigarettes and a coffee.
Iām paying with my phone. I pull it (my phone) out of my pocket and it immediately shouts loud āOoh, yeah, you love my fat Latina pussyā, in a queue of at least ten.
It was fucking mortifying.
Thinking of moving to Devon and running for Tory MP.
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A guy was telling me he was inside a bank one day in the middle of a long queue. Behind him was a young/ish woman with a little girl that was to put it mildlyā¦ a little out of control being a nuisance to everyone and a real handful to the mum. So getting a little stressed, the mother grabs the little girl by the arm and points her finger into the little girls face and through gritted teeth told the kid to behave and be quietā¦ OR ELSE!
He said the little girl stared right back into the mothers face and with a steely glint in her eyes and a calmness in her voice said right backā¦ " If you donāt let go of my arm right now, I am going to tell Grandma that you were kissing Daddies willy again last night"
He said with that, the whole bank of customers and some staff started laughing, giggling and smirkingā¦ :0)
Apparently the woman hoisted the kid off the floor and scooted out of the building 
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In a way, if rolls were reversed on this and if it were a son saying this to his dad about what he saw mummy doing to him to a captive audience, the temptation to just smile and say āshould we have some ice-cream later?ā to diffuse and then wave to everybody and do a little victory dance, would be an epic man moment.
Thatās not really the equivalent though is it? It would have to involve the man performing oral sex on the woman.
Either way I donāt really see the problem. We all do it, why not talk about it?
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Iām not sure itās āusā talking about it thatās the problem? More that the little girl must have witnessed it and then told the whole checkout line. 
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āAgainā 
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Well, could have been worse. At least it was ādaddyā and not āuncleā or āgrandpaā. That would have been awkward.
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Or the tv repair man
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Dont know where else to put this, but this was too good not to share - Partridge interviews Steve Coogan 
Heās trying to butter me up by saying my show is fantastic ā the oldest trick in the book ā but my journalistic skills mean I donāt take the bait. Besides, I have a job to do. Like all journalists, my main objective is to trick him into spilling something that will either get him cancelled or a regular column in the Daily Mail. So I fix him with a glare. Why does he bang on about press regulation? Surely the government should play no role in the regulation of the press?
Three perfectly placed banana skins ā on which heāll surely slip only to land in a very large cow pat, leaving him caked in cow shit and bits of banana.Iām salivating at the prospect of bringing down this pompous arse. But as I lean forward to feign interest in Cooganās deranged ramblings, my elbow somehow rests on my Dictaphone, pressing the pause button, meaning I fail to record any of his answers. A shame, because almost everything he says for those 20 minutes is cancel gold dust.
We split the bill. The Guardian has given me a modest budget to cover lunch but Iāve spent almost all of it on egg sandwiches and crisps at the service station. Iāll be buggered if Cooganās going to fill his face on my dime.
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Dare i ask? Hope allās well.
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