Jennifer arrived, she hung around on Monday and then she departed today. She has headed back down South, to support her cousin in her cousin's time of need, navigating the nightmare of bureaucracy that gathers when somebody dies, especially over a holiday period when all of the people you really want to talk to are not at work. I don't suppose that Jennifer's Boss is very happy at her absence at this busy time of the year, but... Hey! Fuck him! Family comes first. Always.

So, the Festive season in residence-chez-Cornelius has been officially cancelled, until at least the second week in January. Jennifer is not due back until the 9th or the 10th. I am on my own for New Year, as I was for Christmas.

I know that there are good reasons for this. I know that Jennifer had to be somewhere else, but I feel that we have been cheated. After the quick London trip, and then the original pre-bereavement visit to her cousin, Jennifer was supposed to come back home. Then we were going to have our Christmas. But it was going to be more than just Christmas. It was going to be a time to build fences, to talk and to find out what has been going wrong.

Not to be. I am mightily pissed off about it and I feel like a right, royal shit for feeling pissed off. Somebody has died and other people's feelings need to come first.

Is this the way that the blog ends? I hope not, but it might be.

I am fighting, but I just feel so tired. Maybe it is the onset of winter and the cold weather? Maybe time is just speeding up? Maybe I am suffering from depression or maybe I am just generally pissed off with life? I don't know.

There does not seem to be any time to do anything, never mind writing anything of any interest. I have received a CD as part of Swiss Toni's Shuffleathon. I have not listened to it, even though at the beginning of this week I said that I would. I have taped lots of TV onto the V+ box. I have not watched any of it. I have 3, brand new, shiny Blu Ray discs to watch. I haven't watched them. I have a book I started to read, "The Rise Of Endymion", that is sitting on a chair in the bedroom. I am not reading it.

What am I doing then?

You got me there, Chief. Mostly I have been sleeping, eating food and watching TV. When I do raise my arse out of the chair to get to the back room, turn the computer on and attempt to blog, I have nothing much to say. Pretty shit.

It doesn't help that Jennifer is working all of the time. She is in work by 7am. She works through lunch. She comes home with me at the correct time, that is true, but then she works late into the evening. I am pretty sure that last night she did not get into bed until after midnight. (Not that I would know this for certain, of course, because we do not share a bed anymore and there does not seem much likelihood that we are going to ever again.) We are supposed to have a date at 9:30pm to watch an hour of TV together, probably "Burn Notice", but I am not going to hold my breath.

I am very, very fed up.

(Hey! Can the defeatist shit! This is bollocks. Pull yourself together, you twat!. There are a lot of people worse off than you. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.)

Quite right.

Vent. Vent. Rant. Vent. Fuckers. Cunts. Bollocks. Tory wankers.

There, I feel better. The blog goes on.

Right, first thing. Some news.

Tomorrow is the evening of The Company Christmas Party. I will not go into any great detail about it, for obvious reasons, but The Company has spent an obscene amount on this years festive entertainment. Free coach travel to the venue, from all over the UK, free hotel accommodation, free food, free bar, live band(s), butchers, bakers, candlestick makers, clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right. Sounds good, yes?

No. I don't think so. The Company has made several hundred redundancies in the last couple of months. A lot of people are facing a very bleak future. Taking the moral high ground, I think that the whole idea of spending hundreds, possibly thousands, of pounds on a party is disgusting and revolting and I want no part of it. I will not be there. I have been banned (by Jennifer) from revealing the true reason why I will not be there. I have been told to say that I will be celebrating Sister 3's birthday tomorrow (Sister 3 really will be 33 years old - Happy Birthday Sister 3, even though you do not know that this blog exists) and will otherwise engaged. Jennifer is going to The Company Christmas Party. She has been told that, as a manager, she has to attend.

I hope she has a nice time. Really I do. Maybe she can take her laptop and do some work?

I will be here. I will watch TV. I might watch something on Blu Ray. I might even do some blogging.

Secondly. Let's get that CD copied to my MP3 player and give it a listen. I am constantly letting people down, but Swiss is a nice guy and I do not like letting him down.

Thirdly. Let's get started on a big post about all the movies and gigs I have not bothered to write about yet.

Later.

It has been a rough couple of days. There has been no inclination to blog or surf very much at all. Maybe you noticed? Lot's of promises made. None of them kept.

Jennifer has gone. She will be at her Brother's until Sunday. We have been arguing a lot. You might say that the atmosphere has become very tense. A couple of days ago she said that she wanted some time to think about 'where we were going'. She made an emergency holiday request at work and she was gone.

For the best? Or course. We cannot carry on like this. We are constantly rubbing each other up the wrong way, failing to communicate, doing everything alone. I hate the amount of time she spends working. She hates my indifference and bad attitude. I do not want to carry on like this. Bugger the whole 'no sex' thing. This has become a 'no relationship' thing. It is a shame that she didn't want to sit down and talk to me, and instead felt the need to go to Worthing to think about 'where we are going'. It doesn't matter. I will welcome any step to resolve this situation, however it presents itself.

I hope we are together after this weekend. I really do. I love her.

**

Of all of the artistes who recorded for Motown during the Golden age of that label (1959 through 1972), my favourites were the Four Tops.



They were not the best selling, most iconic or most innovative artistes to record for Motown, and they were never much cop live (I saw them in 1992 on a Motown package tour and they were dreadful), but I loved their records. They were magnificent.

Levi Stubbs died today. He was 72.

RIP.

Way too tired to be writing now. I promise I will be back tomorrow.

There are some evenings when the frustration gets so acute that you just want to undress, wash, clean your teeth, go to your room (the front bedroom, which is my room, as opposed to the back bedroom, that used to be our room), grab your MP3 player and lie in the dark listening to music for hours on end to shut the world out.

That was last night. I don't think that Jennifer even knew I had gone to bed.

I turned my MP3 player off after listening to this song by the Seekers. It was my Gran's favourite song. It was played during her funeral service. I always find this song very emotional.

Yes. I will love my Gran until the day I die.



Today was a much better day.

I know, I know. I said that I was going to write about work yesterday, but I didn't. The weekend has been frantically busy. I am really tired, so this will be short.

Jennifer and I were at work on Saturday morning. Jennifer, desperately trying to get certain things completed before her week off, drafted me in to help. I think we were successful enough, but her boss will still moan on Tuesday morning that we could have done better. Bollocks to him. I have no respect for a man who is a brown nose and an arse licker, with no concept of the difference between really easy problems, more difficult problems and really difficult problems. He thinks that they are all the same. Total ass.

Nicer things.

Yesterday afternoon I met Niece 2 for the first time. Niece 2 has lots of black hair, hazel eyes, is more Mediterranean coloured than pink, and is already working on a pretty good pout. She is very small, but weighed a ton when I picked her up. We made a little bit of a connection. Niece 2 looked straight at me, gave me a serious frown, yawned and then fell asleep. It is hard work being a baby.

The treat for my Nephew (Niece 2's Brother), was to take him out to see "Hellboy II: The Golden Army". Just him and me. We had a good time. Nothing in the world like seeing a film like that with a pre-teen boy. I will write about what I thought of the film, next time.

Yesterday evening. Mostly we dossed in front of the TV. "The X-Factor". "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire". "The Thomas Crown Affair" (Brosnan and Russo version).

Today, haircut for me, shopping with Jennifer for hours. "Casino Royale" in the evening. Food in between.

Tired, tired, tired.

Tomorrow we are taking Niece 1 and my Nephew to see "Kung Fu Panda" at the IMAX. It is not a film I was bothered much about seeing, but Jennifer insisted. She wanted us to do something together with the kids. I think she just wanted to see another film on that huge screen.

It is a bit late now to be posting anything of substance.

I finally saw "The Dark Knight" over the weekend. I also saw "Elegy". Both really interesting films. I will write about those over the next couple of days.

Sorry. I am really tired.

I did see episode one of "Spooks: Code 9" this evening. It is a turd. Dreadful, with not even the saving grace (re. "Bonekickers") of being unintentionally funny. Imagine a spy series made for the "Hollyoaks" audience. Inept and cack. I will not be watching again. Bring back the proper "Spooks".

That is all.

Saturday and I have managed to exhaust myself. Too many late nights and early mornings this week, including today. Too much bad food. Too much bad feeling between Jennifer and myself. She is in slamming doors mode.

I will be going to bed shortly. I want oblivion.

Fancy some jokes? Me too. Fuck political correctness.

**

A blonde goes into a computer shop and says, "I need curtains for my PC".

The assistant says, "But you don't need curtains for a computer!"

The blonde says, "Like duh. I've got Windows!"

**

Three men were waiting at Heaven's Gate.

St. Peter says, "Okay, guys. Pretty much anything goes up here, but whatever you do, never lie, or you will spend the rest of eternity with the ugliest women in the universe."

So they all agree and are admitted in.

The first guy makes it a week before he lies about how rich he was on Earth. Bam! Right at his side appears the ugliest woman he had ever seen.

The second guy makes it another couple weeks before he lies about how smart he is. Bam! At his side appears the second ugliest woman in the universe.

So the first two guys are walking around with their monsters of women when they see their third friend walking with the hottest woman ever conceived by man. The first two guys say in unison, "How did you end with that babe when we get stuck with these nasty women?"

He nudges the babe and says, "Tell them." She says to the first two guys, "I lied."

**

A new Army Captain was assigned to an outfit in a remote post in the Afghanistan desert. During his first inspection of the outfit, he noticed a camel hitched up behind the mess tent. He asked the Sergeant why the camel is kept there.

The nervous sergeant said, "Well sir, as you know, there are 250 men here on the post and no women. And sir, sometimes the men have 'urges'. That's why we have Molly The Camel."

The Captain says, "I can't say that I condone this, but I understand about 'urges', so the camel can stay."

About a month later, the Captain starts having his own 'urges'. Crazy with passion, he asks the Sergeant to bring the camel to his tent. Putting a ladder behind the camel, the Captain stands on the ladder, pulls his underpants down and has wild, insane sex with the camel. When he's done, he asks the Sergeant, "Is that how the men do it?"

"'No. Not really, sir. They usually just ride the camel into town where the girls are."

**

What do you call a deer with no eye?
No eye deer.

What do you call a deer with no eye and no leg.
Still no eye deer.

**

A lonely widow, age 70, decided that it was time to get married again.

She put an ad in the local paper that read:

HUSBAND WANTED
MUST BE IN MY AGE GROUP (70's)
MUST NOT BEAT ME
MUST NOT RUN AROUND ON ME
MUST STILL BE GOOD IN BED!!!!!
ALL APPLICANTS PLEASE APPLY IN PERSON.

On the second day, she heard the doorbell. Much to her dismay, she opened the door to see a grey-haired gentleman sitting in a wheelchair. He had no arms or legs.

The old woman said, "You're not really asking me to consider you, are you? Just look at you...you have no legs!"

The old man smiled, "Therefore, I cannot run around on you!"

She snorted. "You don't have any arms either!"

Again, the old man smiled, "Therefore, I can never beat you!"

She raised an eyebrow and asked intently, "Are you still good in bed???"

The old man leaned back, beamed a big smile and said,"Rang the doorbell didn't I?"

**

What is a Yankee?
The same as a quickie, but a guy can do it alone.

What is the difference between a Harley and a Hoover?
The position of the dirt bag.

Why is divorce so expensive?
Because it's worth it.

What do you call a smart blonde?
A golden retriever.

What do lawyers use for birth control?
Their personalities.

What's the difference between a girlfriend and wife?
25 lbs.

What's the difference between a boyfriend and husband?
45 minutes.

What's the fastest way to a man's heart?
Through his chest with a sharp knife.

Why do men want to marry virgins?
They can't stand criticism.

Why is it so hard for women to find men that are sensitive, caring, and good-looking?
Because those men already have boyfriends.

What's the difference between a new husband and a new dog?
After a year, the dog is still excited to see you.

What makes men chase women they have no intention of marrying?
The same urge that makes dogs chase cars they have no intention of driving.

A brunette, a blonde, and a redhead are all in year 9. Who has the biggest boobs?
The blonde, because she's 18.

What's the difference between a porcupine and a police car?
A porcupine has the pricks on the outside.

What did the blonde say when she found out she was pregnant?
"Are you sure it's mine?"

Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact?
Breasts don't have eyes.

What would you call it when an Italian has one arm shorter than the other?
A speech impediment.

What's the difference between an Australian zoo and an English zoo?
An Australian zoo has a description of the animal on the front of the cage along with a recipe.

How do you get a sweet little 80-year-old lady to say the F... Word?
Get another sweet little 80-year-old lady to yell *BINGO*!

What's the difference between a northern USA fairytale and a southern USA fairytale?
A Northern fairytale begins "Once upon a time..." A southern fairytale begins "Y'all ain't gonna believe this shiit..."

Why is there no Disneyland in China?
No one's tall enough to go on the good rides

**

Thank you and goodnight.

So the question is: Did the girl revert back to the curly perm/curly hair look today?

She sure did.

So, then. Maybe the girl had decided, for the second time, that she didn't like the new hairstyle? Or maybe she just had her hair done for a special occasion and reverted back to normal for another ordinary day?

Who knows? I will never know, because I will probably never speak to her. I cannot afford to get into speaking to girls that I do not know on the bus. I think that this is because I might decide that the grass is greener elsewhere and a giant, irreversible leap into that a new pasture would be preferable to going through life bored with what I have got. My judgement isn't always very good.

I already feel pathetically guilty when I talk to my friend Eleanor (a single mother, who is nice, and who told me that her boyfriend left her when she became pregnant, some years back) and my other friend Maria (an Austrian ex pat, who speaks perfect English, but with a definite Germanic inflection, and seems to love random and weird TV as much as I do). Why guilty? Because I dearly, truly and seriously would like to fuck both of them and that is not on. I am supposed to be making a go of this relationship.

Sadly, the Jennifer/Jerry show is a bit of a mess. I feel that I can do and say nothing without being accused of being awkward. It is tiresome. I am not wrong all of the time and I am not taking the piss all of the time.

So bad.

... And that was my 100th post. Onwards to the next 100.

This morning I went to see "The Happening". I am torn as to what to write. I cannot make up my mind. I will have a think first and a short review will follow later.

The rest of the day I have been bumping into things, missing buses, catching buses, getting off at wrong bus stops, breaking eggs and banging my (very sore) hand. Probably something to do with limited sleep last night, an early start this morning and no food until early evening.

Jennifer tells me that I need to look after myself better. She is probably right.

The gaps get longer. The content gets lesser. The interest wanes. The enthusiasm dips. Welcome to middle age.

At the moment I feel that all I want to do is watch television. Maybe it is that time of my life.

Anyway, I intend to finish the next bit, even if it kills me.

As I was saying. At the weekend I took my Nephew to see "Speed Racer".



Midway through the film I leaned over to him and whispered, "What do you think?" and this is what he said to me.

"It's rubbish, man!"

My Nephew was right as well. "Speed Racer" is very pants.

I will admit that "Speed Racer" looks absolutely fabulous. It shows us a big, bright, day glow universe. A multi-coloured extrapolation of how somebody living in the 1950's would think that a car racing obsessed future would look like. Breathtaking production design.

However... Other than the great visuals "Speed Racer" is possibly the emptiest, shallowest, dullest movie experience I have had in a cinema, since my misfortune in shelling out a couple of quid to see "The Matrix" sequels. Very long and very boring. (Sorry guys, but a 2 hours and 15 minutes running time for a film aimed ostensibly at small children is way too much). "Speed Racer" is all glittering surface without a decent script underpinning it.

Sigh... I know it's dull, but let's repeat the mantra once again, shall we?

Special effects alone do not a good movie make.

Personally I felt sorry for the cast in getting involved in such a clunker. Emile Hirsch had good notices in "Into The Wild" (I missed that one), and I thought he was funny in "The Girl Next Door", but here he is a personality vacuum and wears one expression of mild bemusement throughout the entire movie. Fine performers like Christina Ricci, John Goodman and Susan Sarandon are totally wasted. Lastly, the less said about Paulie Litt as Speed's irritiating younger brother the better, and let's not mention the comedy chimp at all. Life is too short. (Whoops! Just did.)

A bad misfire, then, but in recent times I have learnt to expect nothing much from the Wachowski's. "The Matrix" had it's moments (the first DVD I ever had, fact fans), but the best movie they were ever involved in was the lesbian film noir "Bound" and that was released way back in 1996. I would love the Wachowski's to do something as good again, but I doubt that they will. They have discovered the paintbox of digital special effects and, as long as those films continue to make money, I doubt they will ever want to close the lid on the paintbox.

"Iron Man" tomorrow.

The deal was that I would see things, hear things, do things and that all of this would be reported faithfully on the blog, with only the names changed to protect the guilty and the innocent.

I know that lately I have not been very good in keeping my part of the deal. I am writing crap. Yes I am. I don't know what is going on. I am tired, I have no energy and I am disinterested.

It won't last forever. Bear with me. I was up at 6am today so that I could be washed, fed and the house tidied in preparation of the nice Virgin Media man coming to upgrade our service. We now have way too many fucking channels to choose from. There is such a thing as too much choice.

As for this evening, I really must go to bed. I need the sleep and a lie in tomorrow morning, as tomorrow evening I am going to Wolverhampton to see Portishead.

Note to myself. I must write at least a little about the John Barrowman gig, "El Orfanato" and "[REC]" next time.

I am kind of shell shocked at having to get up at 5am for the last two days, to get to work for 7am. Two more days of this to go. It was a favour for Jennifer.

I think that is all about all there is to say, at this juncture.

Near comatose and slumped in front of the TV over the last couple of nights, I have been watching the "Doctor Who" Christmas Specials that the BBC are repeating prior to the new series starting on Saturday. "The Runaway Bride" was on this evening, which was the one that featured new companion Catherine Tate for the first time. I thought it was really, really good. Much better than I remembered it. Captain Sadness is really looking forward to the new series. I have washed my anorak and everything.

One last thing.

Is it just me, are all male managers in reality just yapping little dogs with erect penile dysfunction? Or do I just have a bad attitude? Jennifer has accused me of the latter. I need to know.

I have been here and I have been there. It is always stressful shopping with Jennifer.

Today Jennifer purchased a printer, spare printer cartridges, a headset (because she has decided that she wants Skype) and a spare USB cable. As it happens, it was the wrong type of USB cable, despite myself asking Jennifer several times before we left the house to check the type of cable that the printer needed. I could have done it myself, but she said I was 'interfering in her business'.

Apparently I am also 'unhelpful' and 'an arrogant little shit' and 'no good to man or beast'. I'm glad that any vagueness on those points has now been cleared up, because I was unsure of exactly what I am.

After shopping I saw a film called "Garage", which I liked, but I don't want to write about it now.

Reading around the blogs, there appear to be some very unhappy people about. I wish I could take the unhappiness away from all of us, really I do, but you just cannot wrap your arms around the whole world.

Didn't post last night. I was defeated by the incredibly cold weather (at this time last year the heating was on minimum, so I don't know what the hell is going on), my sniffly and incredibly blocked up nose, and my utter indifference at the thought of writing anything.

Instead I watched "Just Friends" on cable. Crass, awful and terrible and, of course, I laughed like a hyena. I have only just realised how incredibly hot Anna Faris is. Then I fell asleep on the settee. End of night.

This evening, I have eaten food, done a stack of ironing, watched "C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation" and fell asleep on the settee. Again. Maybe I am rundown or exhausted or maybe it is just that time of the year.

Anyway, no time now for thoughts on "The Cottage". Tomorrow... But I have said that before.

Bit tired tonight. I will write about "The Bank Job" tomorrow. Mixed feelings.