Toasted Egg Banjo with Brown Sauce

2006-06-13T14:43:00.000Z

Breathing through yer ring

Decided foolishly to go for a run this lunchtime as I wimped out yesterday due to heat and thinking it would be a tad cooler, humph bad idea.

I decided against my usual go for it approach (run as fast as feck for the first 1/3, slow down for the 2nd and pick it up for the last) and just, well have a jog like I see the other joggers do, nice and easy along the river.

Now I have a few checkpoints around the route so I can gauge performance and when I got to my first checkpoint and was running a minute over time, which was to be expected, got to the second and was a full 2 and 1/2 mins slower, said I would take it easy.

But then I felt I was cheating, so picked the pace up a bit and by the time I got to the third point I was pretty much on time, now it was a challenge, lets go for a personal best. So I pushed it out on the final stages and, well came in pretty much on the time that I am used to, however the heat caught up with me and I collapsed in a sweaty heap at the end, so much for a gentle jog

2006-06-12T09:36:00.000Z

Revisiting old ghosts

A recent comment on my last blog stirred a recent memory, in my service days I managed 5 tours in total, four in Northern Ireland and one in Bosnia. In that time I have been present at a motor attack, a improvised rocket attack, two live IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices), one which went off right next to my other teams vehicle, countless fake IEDs, a limpet mine attack (which took life) and one shooting. Now that sounds a lot but mostly I just heard it, did a cordon or reacted to the incident, except the shooting. The shooting is al mine.

Early 90's before the current ceasefire, in fact before the ceasefire before this ceasefire (they have had quite a few) I was a young Lance Jack in Belfast running a vehicle checkpoint on the Laganbank, the Laganbank is a strip of land between two bridges by the River Lagan. Whilst there we got took on by a burst of automatic machine gun fire, no casualties by there was weapon strikes by my 2ic (second in command). Being shot at is a strange exeripernce, I can honestly say I crapped myself and not be ashamed, its one of those things that only those who have been through it truly understand. Anyway no one was caught and it became another statistic.

many years later once I had left the forces I found myself in a company that sent me on a job across to Belfast, when I check the location on Streetmap I was shocked to discover that its was close to my contact point. When I finally got over I went for a walk in the sun during lunchtime and strolled to the point where I stood frozen like a bunny in the headlights hearing rounds zip over my head (there's a saying for that, crack, thump). To my (pleasant) surprise the area had gone through a major facelift since the peace process started and there on my contact point I face the front doors of the newly built Belfast Waterfront Hall.

2006-06-08T12:35:00.000Z

Squaddies are Different

Running

One of the things I have noticed is that squaddies run in a different way than civies. Since I started the new job I have been running much more frequently as there is a nice little 4 1/2 mile course along the river and back as well as a few others around the area, add a shower in the workplace and its running pumps again.

However when I run I generally I put my head down and "go for it" and try and get the best time possible, whereas, I have noticed, many have a little jog and a chat and a look about etc. Now I'm not knocking that, at least they are exercising, but I just can't do that sort of run. One of my work colleagues asked me, whilst I was carrying my kit, towel and water bottle, if I was out for a jog.

"No," I replied, "I'm off running"

"what's the difference?" He enquired.

"Well its like jogging, only it hurts more"

The other thing I have noticed is that most civies don't seem to want to go for a run after half an hours sleep after a heavy night down town on the shots and alcohol jellies, funny that really.

2006-05-05T07:43:00.000Z

I'm gainfully employed...(again)

AT LAST...... Got a little worried as jobs didn't fall at my feet on return but picked up a bit of work at an extremely well known company that does films and things, so it looks like I'm going home with some "acquired" merchandise. The journey is a bit of a pain but they have showers here so I have the joy of running to the train station again, fizz routine now back to normal :o)

Its one of those laid back yank companies that frown at you for wearing a suit. This adds an extra dilemma in that after years of suits and ties I have to join the daily work fashion show, so a bit of retail therapy may be in order.

2006-04-28T00:21:00.000Z

Back in the land of the living

Been a while since I've blogged due to my trip abroad and having the Father-in-law with his new girlfriend to stay over Easter meaning extremely limited access to the PC (its in the spare room) but finally back.

So took a holiday and now thinking about getting another job, unfortunately for me everything I have been offered since I got back is too low in pay and too bloody far to travel. I don't actually need to work as I have sufficient funds, its just there's only so many jobs around the house on the missus list that I can deal with.

2006-04-09T07:22:00.000Z

US Military in Common Sense Shock

Saw the news this morning, apparently the US military are about to undertake a dramatic new approach to the war in Iraq. It seems the "Blow the crap out of the locals" approach is a tad unpopular, and a new approach of less troops in a supportive role is the way ahead.

No Shiite Sherlock

Also why on earth are US Generals in Florida wearing desert combats ?????

2006-04-05T12:50:00.000Z

Problem solving Arab style

Next door to my training room they are holding a seminar called “Decision Making and Problem Solving”, it seems to consist of a lot of arm waving and shouting.

Would I be out of order if I chucked in a map of Israel?

2006-04-05T12:36:00.000Z

Observations of Arabian Gentlemen

Whilst in the Middle East I have noticed a few things about the men here.

Arabian Gentlemen don’t seem to do any physical work, they have Indians and Asians for that sort of thing
Arabian Gentlemen have a limited dress sense, its seems that white with red and white accessories are currently in (as they probably have been for the last hundred years)
Arabian Gentlemen have a very novel approach to time keeping
Arabian Gentlemen don’t seem to have any women, or at least I haven’t seen any since I’ve arrived
Arabian Gentlemen have this jet wash thing in their toilets, not entirely sure what it’s for but have a fairly good idea
Arabian Gentlemen will do anything you ask of them, provided you ask them another 4 or 5 times (and there is an Indian or Asian available to do it)
Arabian Gentlemen are nowhere near as religious as I first thought
Arabian Gentlemen love the sound of their car horns
Arabian Gentlemen eat a lot of sweets and biscuits
Arabian Gentlemen have very poor takeaways (never ever have a Dominos over here)
Arabian Gentlemen like big shiny cars
Arabian Gentlemen drink a lot of Pepsi
Arabian Gentlemen treat other gentlemen with the utmost respect
Arabian Gentlemen’s offices don’t seem to have any women’s toilets
Arabian Gentlemen are genuinely surprised that there are buildings in the UK over a hundred years old.
Arabian Gentlemen don’t seem to know what to do when they hear a police or ambulance siren, I think the plan is “everyman for themselves”
Arabian Gentlemen’s everyday attire is see-through (shudder)
Arabian Gentlemen MUST finish work on time

2006-04-05T12:23:00.000Z

Arab April fool

I seriously thought on my arrival in Saudi on the early hours of the first of April that the locals had adopted the custom of Fools Day. I’m here for a couple of weeks to provide training far a set of three pieces of software, prior to my arrival everything was supposed to be in place ready for me. Well the catalogue of errors and problems that have preceded me takes some serious beating.

Since I arrived the following has gone wrong.

No car at the airport to take me to the hotel
No hotel room was booked The car to take me to the offices had to be called that morning as it wasn’t booked
The Software was not installed in the training room (one of the prime requisites sent over to them)
In fact no software at all, so even if they wanted to install, they couldn’t
No user rights on the machine, so I couldn’t install my self
Training manuals hadn’t arrived from the UK yet
Oh and nobody turned up for the training anyway

So all in all a great start.

2006-04-05T12:21:00.000Z

Saudi Internet is pants

Quick and reliable broadband to your room the glossy brochure said, quick and reliable my arse

Got hooked up for an hour so prepare for a blogging frenzy

2006-04-01T21:36:00.000Z

Sun, Sea, Sand and err

Actually at the moment there is just sand, one of the reasons I left the army was the endless tours and exercises, then I left two companies because they kept sending me away, so I thought the only way I can stop this happening is start my own company up

Then I take a job in Saudi Arabia, typical. However I will stress its only for a couple of weeks and they are paying a whole shed load of money.

Oh for the record there is no sea as I am in the middle of the company and it hasn't stopped raining since I arrived.

More blogs from the Middle East soon.

2006-03-30T00:43:00.000Z

The Legend of the Egg Banjo

part two

Ok so now you know what an egg banjo I need to explain what on earth the toasted variety is all about, especially with the brown sauce.

It all stems back to my second tour of Northern Ireland when some bright scrote decided, as I was a young Lance jack (Lance corporal rank) with previous experience in the NI that I would be better suited in the Intelligence Cell rather than on patrol. This meant that I had to long hours sat in a box room next to the Operations (or Ops) Room. I hated it, in my eyes I was a trained soldier and should be on the ground, whereas the rest of the Ops crew where generally glad to be in Slipper city in the dry. So I volunteered for the night shift for the following reasons

It kept me away from the ORTs (or Ops Rm Tossers) these where the guys who only worked 9 to 5 (well it was more 8 to 7) , sucked up to the hierarchy and played a lot of squash. The night shift was manned but the officers and Senior NCO's from the patrolling units who obviously had nothing better to do.
I could wear my old faithful desi boots (Desert Boots) the lynch pin to any decent squaddies civi uniform. There was a rule that at night you were to wear soft soles so not to wake the men who were resting from patrolling, a great idea except the men patrolling generally did it all day and night and often would be a sleep during the day when you were in your perfect right to crash about the place. So who was the rule for then ? Well the only people how actually slept at night were of course the ORTs. The joke about this rule was that it ran out a half hour BEFORE the day shift came on, so I had to go on shift with a pair of boots to stick on for that final 30 mins. Only in the army eh ?!?
It freed me up during the day to go on patrol with the teams, although I did get a bollocking for that as it was noted I was managing a night shift and a rural patrol each day and was making the rest look bad.
I got to go to the kitchen each night.

Now the kitchen was the best bit for two really good reasons, firstly the girlies from the commcen were always in there for a good flirt and secondly you could make as many Egg Banjos you wanted. So each night I would get the order from the Ops Room night shift, the Guard Room and sanger, pop down, make them up and drop them off to everyone. I discovered very quickly that the fried egg made the bread soggy and hard to carry and it was a lot easier if I toasted the bread first, the brown sauce was personal taste.

2006-03-29T14:26:00.000Z

Squaddies are Different

Areas

I'm an ex-soldier, but I'm still a squaddie, a squaddie is not a role or position, its a state of mind. There are two basic people types, Squaddies and Non-Squaddies (aka Civies), many civies show signs of squaddidom, but unless you serve you can never truly be referred as a real squaddie.

So There are certain things that really grip my shit about civies, the first is areas.

Areas is the squaddie term for cleaning the localized area, picking up rubbish and the like (most often cigarette butts) but its ingrained into the squaddie psyche to clean up after themselves. So why the feck can't civies ? I have lost count of the number of half drunk mugs of coffee and sweet wrappers laying NEXT to bins, not in them, NEXT to them. If there's a brew area (that's a kettle and tea/coffee making kit for the unenlightened) then why the feck can't they wipe up the inevitable spillage, or perhaps, here's an idea, clean the spoon ?

Sorry for sounding anal but its basic skills and drills people, catch on.

2006-03-28T10:05:00.000Z

Bricking It

I'm a bit nervous, tonight I am cordinally invited to drinks at an Army establishment, an establishment I am hoping to join in the near future, how I perform tonight could have consequence's.

I left the forces a while now and, although IT Consultancy has its high points and exciting moments, last night I had a blow out at the coffee machine which took a while to fix and today I had to chase a couple of guys who hadn't ordered lunch, all riveting stuff (note: I'm trying to be sarcastic, unfortunately its hard to roll eyes and use a whiney voice in a blog). So I need something to drive me a long and have been trying to "get back into it", so to speak, for a while now.

So tonight its drinkypoos and polite chat with a certain unit and hopefully I impress, if so I have a very hard year ahead which will involve a lot of running up mountain sides, but it should make interesting reading.

2006-03-27T15:52:00.000Z

The Legend of the Egg Banjo

part one

As promised I will detail exactly why my user name is my name and my blog is my blog. First off, you need to know exactly what an egg banjo is, simply put it is a fried egg sandwich, not any old fried egg sandwich mind.

To get the full banjo experience you need to do the following.

Fry 1 x Fried Egg (this needs to be cooked enough so you don't end up with e coli, but still extremely runny. Hard eggs don't count as they are for wimps.)
Stand in front of a full size mirror wearing your best going out shirt and hold the sandwich in your left hand
Take a bite and smile as the hot liquid oozes down your chin.
Look in horror at your reflection as you see yellow liquid dribble from your chin all over your designer shirt
Hold your left hand high in the air and away from your body to ensure no drippage
Use your right hand to frantically brush away the congealed yoke
Now look up in the mirror and hey presto....

Your playing the egg banjo

2006-03-27T14:20:00.000Z

Something Snazzy

It was asked on universalsoldieruk that the army should wear more pastels and more colour, well here is a picture of the US Navy's finest in thier new uniform, is that what you are looking for boys ?!?

Original Thread

http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14062459&postID=114337643796591235

2006-03-26T08:21:00.000Z

Indy-bum

I would advise all not to stand downwind of me today as I had a curry last night and have been afflicted with the worse case of Indy-bum in a while.

My advice if you want to come round and use the facilities is to give it 20 mins or so

2006-03-24T00:15:00.001Z

Don't Drop the Coffin

Ever see that program on BBC1 (I think?) About an Undertakers call Albins in Bermondsey. Well they buried my Nan today, turns out they're friends of the family. Very good service.

Not so good service from the Priest however, I don't want to get into some religious debate now but why do Catholic funerals have to be about the church and not the person ? I'm not of the faith, but my Nan was so I thought a little recognition wouldn't go amiss, I could rant on this but I'm hot from the wake and probably not in the right mind.

Being a protestant I think I might slip on a condom, pop upstairs and not feel the need to confess.

Hmm on second thoughts not actually a very good idea due to the formula.

((sexual prowess * beer consumption) + 2 year old just woken up) / Need for Bed

2006-03-23T22:36:00.001Z

Shorts Update

Happy to say the run went well and was relatively chaff free.

Only problem was I got a pair of light grey strides that look like I wet my self with the localized sweating.

Oh yeah and I look G.A.Y

2006-03-21T12:10:00.000Z

Lunch Box Lennox

Running is a hobby apparently, personally I call it a pain in the arse, but that was probably because I had to do it at half five in the morning, in the rain, and snow, up hills (boo hoo) . After I left, actually rephrase that, when I signed off (which takes a year to get out from) I decided the life of a runner was not for me and basically didn't move my fat behind for a few years. Big mistake, as I managed to put two stone on and about four inches around the waist which I am now trying to get rid of.

My fitness jerks come in short phases, normally something like a holiday or, in this case Christmas, and it a pain to get back in, I managed a good week a few weeks ago, but then nothing. Well guys I'm back on track and managed four runs in Six days and about to go on another as last night I discovered the job I had today got cancelled.

So to "get me in the spirit" I do what I always do, go spend money on crap. So I am now the proud owner of a water run belt that I know I will NEVER use and a pair of lycra running shorts. Yes you heard it, as disgusting as it sounds, I shall be plodding along in a minute whilst wearing reveling girly shorts, unfortunately its less Lennox Lewis Lunchbox, more Toasties Tiny Todger.
In the old days I used to own a very dodgy looking pair of Ron Hills that the wife destroyed the minute I left, so she will freak when she sees this. I shall report later to inform you as to whether I was well supported or got chaffed to f**k

2006-03-21T08:40:00.000Z

Say Again Over....

One of the main jobs I did in the army was talk on radios, lof all right I was a signals instructor which makes me excruciatingly anal, this means I only speak when necessary and keep to the point
(whereas on a blog I will just ramble on) so the art of making myself understood is something that comes second nature. So it really grips my wick when people phone me up at home after work, to discuss something that was discussed by someone else with an hour before. Now I can take this but when I have to ask him to repeat himself over and over again because I couldn't decipher his thick accent, well thats when I lost my rag.

So I got a "dressing down" yesterday by the missus for being rude on the phone, which I probably was, but this is the third time in a week I have had to deal with someone over the phone that had only the faintest grip on the English language, but that wasn't the thing that annoyed me most. Oh no, you see just after my call the wifey started shaking her head in disgust.

"What’s up love ?" I asked

"You're just like your parents" came the reply

You see the claim now is because I was rude to the third person in a week who called up and disturbed me and didn't have the decency to speak the language of the person they were calling I was suddenly a racist (by the way that doesn't mean I came form a family of racists, its just my mum and dad still live in South London and are from the Enoch Powell generation) .

Arggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh bloody civies

2006-03-21T01:32:00.000Z

Deaths a Bitch

Been a funny old day really, went to see my Nan at rest in the funeral home, wierd to see her like that, laid out, all thin and gaunt. She was 93 years old and not that long ago you would have sworn she would make it to her hundreds. What done her in was stopping her cleaning job, yep she was still at it, cleaning houses, in her nineties, just as she did in her twenties when she came over from Ireland.

This is the first time I really felt death, yeah I lost grandparents and great grandparents, a favourite uncle and my mother in law lost her battle with cancer a couple of years ago and its all painful stuff. I had three friends killed in their youth, one accident, one murder and one killed in Iraq at the begining of the war, and they really hurt. I've seen dead bodies before as well, some brutally murdered in Northern Ireland, but when you see your old Nan laid out, well thats a different story, for the second time in my life I felt like fainting on the spot, the first time being on my first day in the army, but thats another story. All in all a funny, painful day, I made up for it by buying a pink glazed ring donut, a large mocca and trying to OD on sugar, didn't work though.

Sorry if this is all depressing, we bury her Thursday so i will probably be better by then.

Oh, also I've used my artisitc flair to its best and ended up with this, hope its not too severe on the eye. I didn't mean to go so squaddified, hey but thats life.

2006-03-20T17:21:00.000Z

Well here we go then...

First post on my first blog ever, thing with these things are they you never know exactly how to start the buggers, so I thought it best to ramble on incessantly until you give up and try an much more interesting souls inane witterings.

I've been thinking about doing this for a while now as I have discovered that I am talking to myself more and more each day, probably because its the only true method I have in winning the argument, which I don't always do, but mainly to silence the voices in my head.

I have chosen now to do this as I really have reached a pivotal moment in my life, I left the army a few years ago, I have just started my own company, the wife and myself are thinking about adding another to the brood and I am looking at attempting something that would probably change my life forever, but I will hold back on that for a bit, oh and my Nan died last week and I saw her in the chapel of rest today, sort of puts things in to perspective.

I am going to leave this here now and explain more as time goes on and if you are lucky I might just explain what the hell the titles all about.

PS sorry for the crap look and feel, I'll get on to it, honest.