Thursday morning boredom

This morning I am writing at you from the reception here on site, using my mobile telephonic device.

It is Thursday.

It is cold.

I am bored.

Tony one shoulder is back on site (you may remember him and his remote control) and he is already doing my head in.

He arrived before I started work yesterday... And making me do some actual work before I've had my second pint pot of tea is a good way of encouraging me to find new body hiding locations... I am running out of places to dispose of the empty husks of all those that have crossed my path and endured my wrath. (Hey.. That rhymes)

Once pitched up he then proceeded to mother me into finding out what his mobile phone number was.

A simple task (I rang my phone from his so his number shows up) which was only hampered by his incessant drawling on about his brother and .... Well I wasn't really paying attention.

In other news: for anyone who was following #PuddleWatch over on twitter you will be pleased to know that the puddle has returned. (Photos to follow).

God my life is dull at the moment (thankfully)

I shall this rather depressing post on an up with this joke by Tommy Cooper.... Enjoy.

"I walked into the pet shop the other day and said - I'd like to buy a goldfish please. The assistant said, certainly sir, would you like an aquarium?
I said, I'm not bothered what star sign it is... I just want a goldfish"

Hahahahahahaha.

I bet you couldn't help reading that in his voice could you?

You can't go wrong with a bit of Tommy Cooper.

Must dash - somebody wants serving.... Bastards.

Another Award

It's only Wednesday and it has already been a very trying week.

Monday was okay, campers coming and going after a very busy weekend but I managed to find the time to do a little house keeping on my laptop.

I found a number of half written posts going all the way back to before this time last year.

Who knows what would have happened if I had told you all "that time a thing happened" or "when something I thought was something else, actually turned out to a be different something else." but those times have passed and a re behind us now.

Tuesday saw Scottish power come all the way down to Shropshire to turn the electricity off. I don't why a load of Scotch electricians had to travel half way down the country to mess aorund with the supply, but they did. 

The campers were annoyed that they missed their daily dose of The Wright Stuff on channel 5 and Loose Women, but we had stocked up on Daily Mails so they were contented to read all about how people from another country are to blame for cancer and how what was reported as a cure for cancer last week is now actually a major cause of cancer and how Diana would be spinning in her grave if she could see the world today etc so on and so forth.

I also received this beautiful award from Rob Z Tobor which I got from his blog HERE. 

if you have not read his diary, you really should. to get the best out of it you should really start at the beginning but if you can't be bothered i will try and sum up the story so far......

there is a school goat, a russian spy, a man who wanders around in the woods looking for aliens while zombie snowmen try not to fall into the ever increasing number of holes that Rob has dug in his garden.

There are also some pretty cool pieces of art work as well.

To paraphrase the man himself - "It's well cool."

Wednesday came next and all was going swimmingly. That was until I cut my finger and then a camper who has been here for four days so far asked if they could move pitch ... again.

That's right AGAIN. This is the third time they have moved their TENT (yes tent!!) in the four days they have been here.

They are now going to move to the pitch I suggested to them when they first arrived, but didn't like the look of it.

There's no helping some folk.

I have also decided to spend some money.

I haven't told MRS H yet. But it IS my money and I have been saving up for ages and haven't treated myself since February so it's high time I did.

Wedding plans continue although Mrs H is getting fed up with all the planning and I'm fed up of having to pay for things.

It's still a few months off yet, but once it's all paid for and done we can get back to normality.

Right that's enough from me.

My heart felt thanks go to Rob for his award.

I'm off to buy a gadget that probably won't work anyway.

Laters Taters!

Not My Best Day.....

I was going to write about my Gran today because it is her birthday. I rang her up to wish her many happy returns and asked what she was doing today. her reply was this: "Well, I'm on the toilet at the minute..."

Thanks for that mental image gran. you are the best!

however - today has taken a turn for the worst and so you will know that conversation happened.

Firstly, this post is a little more sweary than usual.

I don’t mind a bit of bad language, but try not to let it rule my life (or blog).

I apologise to anyone who may not like the language used in this post but hope that by reading it you will understand why I am so angry.

If you don’t like swear words. Don’t read this post.

Thankyou.

One of the best parts of working for yourself (apart from having the keys to the shop and therefore having 24 hour access to the sweets in the shop) is knowing you have done a good job and getting recognised for it.

It does happen from time to time where somebody shows their appreciation for your hard work and dedication to ensuring everyone has a nice holiday, whether it’s for one night passing through or a two week break away from the hustle and bustle of the world with a simple thank you. It really is nice to be nice and doesn’t take much.

It was though, Issac Newton who said everything has an equal and opposite reaction.

This means that for every nice and friendly person who passes through my gates, there is one … what’s the word…. ARSEHOLE.. yes that’s the word, one arsehole who ruins it for everyone else.

The week has only just begun and the king of Arseholes has arrived today.

This particular shithouse has been before.

As he arrived I recognised his face, but couldn’t remember why.

It soon dawned on me that it was because he winds me up like nobody else.

He is so cock sure and arrogant about ..well everything… he refuses to listen to reason. Even when he scrapes his car against a stone wall and burns his clutch out.

I won’t bore you with the details, but it comes down to the fact that I was trying to do HIM a favour and save him the bother of moving his caravan around the place. I was willing to work around HIM. That wasn’t good enough it seems.

He wanted to make an issue of it.

He wanted to let everyone within earshot know that something wasn’t right.

Regardless that it was him at fault and I was more than able to put it right – this was his chance to look like a real man.

And so I snapped.

Proper snapped.

Shouting and a little bit of swearing snapped.

It was wrong of me to lose my temper the way I did, but like Popeye said “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” and I put this pillock well and truly in his place.

I started by being nice – I really did, but very quickly it became apparent that this guy wanted to show his authority because I am about thirty years his junior and that means that he knows best.

Regardless of the fact that I do what I do 365 days a year and know what I’m doing, this chump has always had it in for me and is a know-all.

Not today.

Today the worm turned and showed his teeth.

As my blood began to boil I turned around, looked him straight in the eye and ensure without doubt that he would not be allowed to talk down to me like that again.

I would have thrown him the campsite off but although he is a massive dick, his money is worth having… just.

I feel wrong for having made a scene but there are times when you can’t let bullies win.

That is what he is. A bully. I hate bullies.

More than I hate Dave… and I REALLY HATE DAVE.

This bumhole is now on the black list and I have no doubt he will try and wind me up before the end of the week, but the staff know that any bad move on his part and he is off. He can have his money back and will be told never to return.

There are limits and this is it.

I’m the boss around here. I have a badge and everything.

Bullies must never be allowed to win. They must be told to shut up and behave.

No threats, no second warnings.

If you fuck up – you fuck off.

That’s my new moto. It’s a bit sweary but it’s catchy.

Since writing this post I have had a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit (custard creams don’t cut the mustard in these situations) and now I have written down my rage I feel a lot calmer.

Thanks for reading and I hope you don’t have to deal a nob head like this in your day to day life.

Stay alert - Stay Grumpy.

Bank Holidays - The Revenge.

Hello.

It's May. And that means there are two bank holidays.

May is also the month when the real idiots come out to play.

It is just coming up to the end of the 4th day of the month and already I have had to explain to TWO separate people how the sun works, the benefits of using the reverse gear rather than attempting to circumnavigate the globe in order to line up a caravan and was forced to take part in the following conversation:

camper: Why Can't I get on your free Wi-fi?

me: Have you logged on using the password with your laptop?

camper: I don't have a laptop.

(you can already guess where this gem of sketch is going...)

me: Oh okay, is it a tablet or a phone then?

camper: No I don't have any of those. I'm using my TV.

me: ....... no........

This happened.

I know there are some people out there who do not understand the internet and that is fine, we are all different. But who in their right mind thinks that they can the bloody internet on a crappy little 12 inch TV they bought on the cheap from Tesco?

But that's people for you.

In other news, I will soon be performing another film review and Interviewing a proper celebrity.

I will leave you guessing who it might be in the comments but as a clue it is one of the most famous names in music and I was lucky enough to grab a quick chat with him...... or her, it could be a her.

More on that later in the month.

Stay tuned or stay ignorant.

Xenia

Xenia (yes I had to look it up) is the ancient Greek concept of hospitality, the generosity and courtesy shown to those who are far from home.

That is pretty much my job.

People come to me for their holiday and, believe it or not, I offer them a warm and friendly welcome when they are far from home.

I have a cheery smile (sometimes known as a sneer) and a cheery demeanour that puts folks at ease and lets them know that (once they have paid their camping fees) they are welcome to use our facilities and join in all the fun things we do on site.

Just before Christmas we built a new social room which has a dart board and comfy chairs and a TV and everything. At some point I’m going to but a pool table and keep an ear out for the KERCHING of pound coins filling up the coin slot!

Every Thursday we have a coffee morning and at night a couple of rounds of Bingo! Campers love bingo. It’s like catnip.

Saturdays is quiz night. I have to finish off the music round tonight and might share a few of the questions with you lot after all this A to Z business is over.

We might be having a few folk music people coming down as well and if it works out well, it could become a regular thing!

It is important when in the camping business to keep yourself above the competition. There are a lot of campsites around our area, but to the best of my knowledge We are the only one who has Won LOO OF THE YEAR (2010).

With all this in mind I have to go now and make up a music round. I’m hoping to cut up a few songs that stop just as the chorus comes on to see it anyone carries on singing and gives the answer away!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA….

Xenia – The new favourite word of a grumpy made up man.

Wow- I’m so deep!

NOW BUGGER OFF! ;O) 

A Secret Is Finally Revealed (part 2)

Previously on Thoughtless Gibberish...

"Can I marry your daughter?"

"no!"

..An now the conclusion to ASIFR.

Last time we learned that somehow me and Mrs H had fallen into the trap of agreeing to marry each other and I wanted to get the permission of her dad, Richard/Dick (real name Brain) and he had said the following…

“NO!”

Now we shall learn the outcome of that shocking revelation and what happened next!

Me: “NO?”

Brian: “Do I have to pay for the bloody thing?”

ME: “Nonono, we’re sorting all that out…”

Brian: “Do I have to wear a suit?”

Mrs H: “Yes dad, you HAVE TO WEAR a suit. You cannot come to me wedding in you traksuit pants and walking boots.”

Joan (mother of Mrs H): “Do I have to wear a frock?”

Mrs H: “Yes mother – you have to wear a frock?”

Joan: “Do I have to wear a hat?”

Mrs H: Christ almighty!! NO, if you don’t want to wear a hat, you don’t HAVE to wear a hat!”

Joan: “Hmm… I do have those Mickey Mouse ears somewhere. I could wear those…”

Mrs H: “Oh god! That’s it! NONE OF YOU ARE COMING TO MY WEDDING!”

At this point I notice Gary, Mrs H’s brother smiling. “Well I’m really pleased for you both. I can’t wait”

ME: “Thanks Gary.”

So it appears that one out of three of Mrs H’s family are happy for us to get wed.

Conversely and for the interest of fairness I should point out that the reaction from my family was along the lines “Bloody hell, it’s taken you long enough”

Families are great.

In conclusion Me and the soon to be Mrs Mrs H will be legally tied together later on this year.

It is at this point I would like to point out if anyone is looking for work you might want to seek out something in the lines of a registrar. They get paid a bloody fortune (well It’s cost me a bomb so far) and seem to work very little hours in an office at the back of the library drinking tea all day. 

*Sorry for the delay and keep you all in suspense but I have been very busy trying to break my back digging up all this snow and ice. Easter is only a few days away and The campsite is nowhere near ready. We have had to cancel a lot of arrivals and if this weather keeps up there will be no money coming in and We will be having Dog for tea!

Mrs Utterbitch

This week has been half term and the campsite has seen many people come and go for a weeks camping.

The majority of these people have been quiet pleasant and nice and glad to have a break away from the stresses and trials of modern life.

Unfortunately there is always one exception to the rule.

Enter Mrs Utterbitch:

Mrs Utterbitch is a professional complainer. If something is wrong she will complain about it. Even when something isn’t wrong, she will find a reason to a have a moan.

Things do go wrong from time to time and it is part of my job to put things right and sort stuff out.

However, Mrs Utterbitch is as her name suggests an utter bitch.

Nominative determinism it’s called.

Firstly, the office is open most of the day for campers to buy milk and bread and biscuits and ask for directions to local attractions and the like. 5:30pm the shop shuts but I still make myself available for emergencies (see notice on shop door for instructions)

7:30pm the door bells rings. Mrs Utterbitch is standing at the door, arms crossed. 

“THE INTERNET IS NOT WORKING!!!” she screams at me. I don’t know how she managed to actually shriek the three exclamation marks, but she did.

“Oh.” Said I. “Let’s see if can’t sort that out for you.” I can be quiet polite when I have to be (honest).

Mrs U brought her 10 year old laptop to the shop, while I waited, and I promptly got her online to the FREE WIFI I supply FREE OF CHARGE.

“There you go.” I cheerily said. “All sorted. I think you are struggling to get the signal because you have one of those covers over your caravan window.” I explained. “They are lined with aluminium, which is stopping the signal getting through.”

“THAT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH!!!” She shouted adding a hurumph for good measure.

 “Well, you can always use the barn if you need to get access to the net.” I offered.

“I AM NOT GOING TO SIT IN A BARN TO USE THE INTERNET!!!” yelled Mrs Utterbitch.

I sighed inwardly (which is probably why I have hiccups) “It’s not actually a barn. It’s a communal room we have recently built for campers to enjoy. It heated and has comfy seating and tables…” but I was cut of mid-sentence with this astonishing retort.

“I AM NOT THE SORT OF PERSON WHO SITS IN A BARN!!!”

Wow.

“It’s NOT a barn it’s…” but before I could finish:

“IT’S FINE!!! I JUST WON’T BOTHER!!!” and off she stormed.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she came the next morning. Stamping her feet toward the shop as I was sorting the morning papers. Half expecting some form of apology – I soon realised I could not be further from the truth.

“THE HAND DRYER IN THE LADIES IS NOT WORKING!!!” Howled the she devil.

“Hmm….” I mused, not wanting to suffer a conversation with her. “I’ll have a look and sort it out. Thanks for letting me know.”

I promptly ventured into the ladies washroom (which is always left a fucking disgrace by the way) and put my hand under the hand dryer to test to see if it worked.

Guess what…

Yup! It was working. The woman was outwitted by a hand dryer.

That really should have been the end of the matter – but I should have known better.

This very evening at 7:30pm just as I was enjoying my first curry of the year, the door bell rang.

There she was… again. The same frown. The same folded arms of defiance.

With my mouth still chewing a bit of Naan bread and Chicken Tikka Jalfrezi I asked how I could help.

“THE LIGHTS ARE NOT WORKING IN THE LADIES!!!”

“Stupid question, I know, but did you try the light switch?” I asked.

No reply came and she stormed off back to her van.

Guess what happened when I tried the light switch.

Yup. The lights came on.

Of course they did.

Mrs Utterbitch is bloody idiot.

Thankfully she leaves tomorrow and I have already taken her camping fees.

Some people do not deserve decent customer service.

But as I say, she is the one exception to the rule and the rest of the people on site have been very well behaved and capable of using light switches, hand dryers and the internet.

In other news I have made a new friend. He is called Tony One Shoulder, because he only has one shoulder. He gets lost a lot and seems to know a lot about men who live in castles and invented the spinning wheel.

I could tell you all the things I have learnt from him like, what button does what on his new remote control, or what the “man with the face from TV’s Time team” said on the news 6 months ago about the road in Gloustershire that ISN’T a Roman road…. But I’ll save those for another day.

5 Years ago, 4 Years ago and 5 Years ago..

Ah... the memories.

There's something going on down south.

Something to with Oli and his Limp pic’s or something.

Everybody is talking about it even Women.

But that’s for the BBC to get on with.

I'm here to talk to you today about the very special weekend we have just had here at the campsite.

Where's my Goddamned gifts ya big pink monkey?

It is not the fact that Mrs H is out of her cast and able to wiggle her toes, nor the fact that it is the dogs 4^th birthday (which we forgot, but the dog has had other things on his mind such as making holes in the fence and escaping Steve McQueen style) or even that it is the 5^th anniversary of me and Mrs H being stuck with each other (something else we forgot until this morning).

All these things happening at once must take a step back as this weekend saw the campsites 5^th birthday.

5 years old.

To celebrate this we have put up the marque and had bingo on Friday night.

Saturday was Deal or no Deal, Horse racing and a raffle.

Nobody was allowed to leave until they sign
 a legal form confirming they had a good time

Its something we do on site every year (as well at Christmas) and everyone joins in the fun.

Its been a very hectic weekend on top all the other jobs that go into making a field full of pensioners and snotty brats happy and clean.

Because of these events I have not had time to be angry at the world or allow idiots and morons to waste my time.

But not only has this weekend been a time of celebration for the site but I have also been informed that my house has been sold as well!

Yippee for me!

It’s the dawn of a new age for me. No more mortgage payments, no more bills and no more headaches!

But as one door closes anther one opens as they always say.

Have FUN, ya buggers!

The door that has just opened is called “the latest Next catalogue.”

It costs (according to Mrs H at least) around about the same money as it cost to pay for a mortgage and gas and electric and home insurance and … well you get the picture.

But what does this mean for Thoughtless Gibberish?

A very good question.

I am going to open myself to potential ridicule here, but I will leave it to you dear reader.

What would you like to see on these electronic pages?

This is how you have fun the Hogart way!

Pop you thoughts in the box below and I will see what I can do with the most original/easiest/least criminal acts.

Go Little lead Horse -GO!!!

Thanks for reading. (or if you didn’t make it this far – screw you.)

998 Cheeky Bar Stewards

A WORD OF WARNING ON THIS POST:

Geddit?

I've had a bit of bad day, which is what this post is ultimately about and is a little bit dry as I rant on. Feel free to stick with it or just enjoy the pictures.

Here we go.

Working on a campsite can be quite rewarding.

Working in the great outdoors, the sunshine, happy people on holiday giving me money… it all adds up to a great way to spend your days.

However, sometimes it gets ruined by certain types.

I don’t mind the angry people, in the end they always loose.

The sort of people who get very close to ruining my day are the sort I like call Cheeky Bastards.

CB’s come in two types.

I know how she feels.

The first are the downright nasty pieces of work. The kind who think they OWN you because they have given you money. They are the sort who shout and scream down the phone at customer services because the paid a pittance for something and therefore think they have the right to say stupid things like “I pay your wages!”

The correct response to this moronic statement is “Well, I need a wage rise to put with this sh*t!”

That usually works to encourage to a coronary heart attack, but if said with enough venom can really put some numpties in their place, especially when you remind them that you have access to their name address and bank details.

The other sort of fool who gets up my nose is the sort of CB who thinks absolutely fine to DEMAND a discount or favour while offering nothing in return.

These come in many shapes and forms. Most want to borrow my best screwdriver or other tools to do something they were not designed to be used for resulting in a broken hammer or missing drill bits.

Others have the nerve to ask for a discount.

Two examples of these can be found in the experiences I had on both Sunday and Monday (this evening).

Picture the scene if you will… PICTURE IT…

Yummy!

It’s a nice sunny evening. All the campers are in and having BBQ’s or reading a nice book while the sun settles on the horizon. All is calm and as it should be. When all of a sudden and without warning a shadow appears.

It is the unmistakable shadow of an ice-cream van.

“hmm…” I thought to myself internally. “We don’t have an ice-cream van coming to the site.”

Instinct takes over and heroically, much like Indiana Jones from the Indiana Jones films, I pounce in front of the moving vehicle and raise my hand in order to stop the offending paedophile mobile.

“Can I help you?” I asked, knowing full well that I won’t.

“Yea, jus’ fort I’d drive around y’know..” slurred the offensive offender.

“No.” said I. (this is a very abbreviated version of the story but go with it)

“Well, that’s the last time I do you a favour. I helped build that fence when you first opened.” Said the child snatcher gesturing toward the fence at the entrance to the site.

May steal your children...

“That would have been five years ago.” I quipped (I have never quipped before and it felt good. I hoped to do it again soon.) “And you would have been paid for your time as well.” I added.

“Plus,” I continued “We sell our own ice-creams and this is a quite campsite. We don’t want people driving around uninvited. Now sod off.” I didn’t actually swear at him, but I wish I had.

This guy is safe.

Off he went. Hopefully never to be seen again.

      1-0   to me.

This evening saw a different type of CB. It could well have been the king of CB’s as this was the moment my jaw slackened at the outrageous demands thrown at me.

Pitching a late arrival I noticed a man in a red shirt trying to direct the campers. I had walked infront to guide them onto a pitch (I’m good like that) and turned around to see this oik stopping them. I waved the campers on and they left this fool behind.

Once pitched I walked over and caught the man in order to ask him what he wanted.

“Oh, I just arrived and pitched up over there” he smirked(it is not important where he pointed).

I stared at him. This is not how things are done around here. As mentioned just before, we don’t like people just driving around. This is a quite peaceful place to camp.

I informed him of such things and he should know better assuming he was a member of the club. He then shows me an out of date membership card and starts asking for a discount.

“No.” I quipped. (It didn’t feel as good this time. Maybe I should have quipped at bit more or with more gravitas.) “I should really charge you full price if you can’t show your card. Tell you what though, I’ll just charge you normal price.”

This face - Again, In 24 hours??

“Do I not get a discount for cash?” the CB asked.

“NO. I’m already letting you off with the extra charge. You can pay the same as everyone else.” I stood firm but I don’t think he noticed as I was wearing loose fitting pants.

The CB got quite irate and demanded…yes DEMANDED a discount.

“Feel free to leave if you like.” I wasn’t as polite as that sentence sounds but you get the idea.

“Oh.” He surrendered upon seeing the utter rage brewing across my face.

“Oh, okay. How much is it then?”

Suffice to say I over charged the cheeky bastard by £5 and called it 2-0 to me.

But it is a hollow victory.

There are cheeky bastards everywhere. It annoys me.

Thankfully I have an extra five pounds in my pocket and there is a kiddy fiddler and old coot somewhere in the world who are both out of pocket in one form or another.

We all need to do our bit to eradicate these scum sucking scourge’s of society.

It's no wonder I'm a grumpy old man.

They are all a bunch of Daves. (I hate Dave)