Firstly may I congratulate my esteemed colleague in setting up what will hopefully be an outlet of general rambelings.. ideas.. and stuff.

Marvellous..

Now, after a somewhat hectic evening of darts, beer, cocaine and extremely wide essex talking, (saying the same word twice for some reason.. ie, "comon son, let’s get on the darts, the darts son" dya wanna beer fella, a beer... ???) The beauty of forming line while they form a queue, gibbering until the early hours about the wonder of space time and distant galaxies, whether we could actually make celebrity blood sausage work, (black pudding made from famous people) and who would win in a fight between Brian Blessed and a well armed cow. I have awoken to suffer what can only be a brief glimpse of purgatory.

I work for a rather well know and very left wing paper, where people mainly discuss the benefits of anti oxidants, the future of lint as ever renewable energy source and the hilarity of anything chav. All whilst sitting in groups, knitting yogurt and wearing shoes made entirely out of bark chewed and moulded into shape by a recently found untouched tribe of papua new guineaians in return for mars bars and MTV.

Its good.. however! Me, my swollen bulging eyes, gibbering brain and screaming hangover are finding it hard to deal with work today. I'm finding it especially hard to keep up the pretence that everything is "amazing".. Cracks are starting to appear in my world..

Peoples voices are high pitched shrieks and shrills.. that have reduced me to hide behind my chair throwing a hole punch or stapler, lap top if needed at anyone that might want to converse.. Life is challenging to say the least. Whilst not hiding I'm slumped at my desk with my chin on the spacebar dribbling into the bottom row of my quirky keyboard.

People are complaining of a low level deep rumbling sound, which has so far been blamed on the air conditioning, in fact this me growling and moaning at the fact that I am alive, and not been given the relief of death. Normally I can handle a hangover, but today I'm hanging to the point of a near stroke... the reason for this hangover to be harder to deal with than most follows.

You see to add to my horror, I am forced to listen to a creature that projects the worst noise I could bear... unbridled middle/upper-class uppity snobby babble! If you were to listen to the back chatter of my little office, well mainly the desk directly behind me, you would hear that everything is amazing in this fluffy rabbits tail of this silly individuals post private school wonderland...

I have come to find there is a certain noise this small demographic makes, an accent exactly the same no matter where they grew up. In keeping with the correct image, this one most especially has infinite amount of opinions, and happily glares down its inordinately long nose at anyone that that could possibly be considered close to working class.

My favourite quote to-date... "Oh god you know, I'm talking about scumbags.. filth.. people that live on council estates and work on market stalls"... sigh!

Its unfortunately noises like this that will be followed by.. "oh come on .. I'm only saying what your all thinking" cue high pitched giggle and self congratulatory smile at the braveness of such outspoken hilarity.

At the moment this particular individual has just been given a cup of tea... which as you guessed is "amazing" I believe it is made out of nettles!!? Seriously were you not stung as a child?? I was blotchy and covered in calamine lotion from the age 3 to 13! A horrific experience that has left me more than jaded and somewhat of a recluse when it comes to the nettle, as for making tea out of the fucker?? NO I'm afraid not!

The amazing list doesn't stop there mind.. No no.. the most amazing thing at the moment, everything from the 80's!

Now growing up in the 80's I am slightly inclined to agree.. The A team "drink milk fool.. Pain!!" Madness, “the heavy heavy munster sound”, Pamela Andersons tits, Maguiver stuck in a tree managing to fashion a rudimentary rocket propelled grenade from a paper clip, the sun, and a small squirrel. Maggie Thatcher nicking my milk.. well that was a low... but mainly these are the bastions of my youth. However!!! large plastic glasses.. dressing like your auditioning for a spoof of fame.. (thankfully no one lives forever.. let alone you!) and the bizarre practice of adopting the fashion of Timmy mallet on crack, is all starting make my head spin!

I unfortunately suffered the 80s the first time round, and am glad to say I had enough sense come the 90's to put Timmy mallet.. big plastic glasses, neon clothing and the relax don't do it t-shirts in a bag and down to the river. An action I may well take up with the next person who tells me "oh my god... my new leg warmers are amazing.

So sat at my desk with my brain throbbing from not only my hangover but the inane white noise that shrieks, shrills and spouts its opinions, I find myself somewhat at the end of my tether!

My work is suffering, I'm reduced to fending off e-mails by thrusting a swivel chair at my screen and whipping the lead of my mouse at the floor, in the hope of pushing back the constant requests for me to do anything other than cringe and stare longingly at the sky for sweet release. My brain simply can't compete with the ear splitting sound of high pitched nonsense and deal with the incoming bombardment of e-mails. The outcome ..I find myself slumped at my desk like a stroke victim reeling from the onslaught of inane babble and the continual pounding of my head. I long for the days when work was fun, and a killer hangover would be your only challenge... this new level of torture is just too much to bare.

My only answer so far is to place a landmine under its keyboard. But where do you get a landmine during your lunch break in the middle of Farringdon?? Perhaps i’ll try woolies.. JML section!

So suffering in relative silence.. other than the rumbling groan, I eagerly wait in anticipation of 530.. When in all fairness I will be drinking with the remaining work lot, who I thankfully along with, in the search of the only cure, a hair of the dog. Hopefully this won't be marred by the back ground noise of headbands being "so the new thing"

This rather ironically will probably lead me back to my less than makeshift wanna be Gordon Gecko pad to watch some 80’s trash as I fall a kip.

What can I say .. life’s “AMAZING”

This may be the first and last entry for a while as I feel a Ferris coming on....

Beauler..... beauler.....!

Next Blog to be nowhere near as jaded!