I've discussed this issue with many people and I've found that, often, folks are completely unaware that it is possible, in the UK, for meat to be slaughtered without prior stunning for 'religious reasons'. This bothers me. A lot. Continue reading Animals Slaughtered Without Stunning
They being very spoiled dogs, whenever I've gone away in the past I've always had someone they know come and live in my (their) house so they have very little disruption. Asking my parents to actually move home for a while to look after my dogs when I'm away seemed a bit much so I thought, in order to satisfy my own mind, I'd let Mia and Chloe go and stay at my Mum and Dad's house for a 'test' run.
So we recently had a bit of a clear out and a tidy up and that lead to me having to put a load of old paperwork and files up in the loft.
Normally I’m only ever in the loft to get down or put back the Christmas decorations and I find I’m either too excited or too depressed to really notice what’s in my loft or how it spans pretty much the entire area of my house. On this recent visit to the loft though, I had a good look around and thought how cool it would be to have a really stylish / trendy loft conversion.
I absolutely LOVE the open brickwork type conversions but saw this image on south london loft conversions that looked like some sort of medieval castle type affair and thought how cool it would be to have a normal house, but a stairway to the loft, unveiling a totally different style of room – like something out of a Knights of the Round Table era castle.
Can’t emphasise enough how COOL this promotion is – get in to the cinema, for FREE any time you like! http://bit.ly/cMipzp
Christmas is my favourite time of the year.
I go in to training for Christmas. By that I mean, I start to dramatically reduce my food intake and increase my exercise in the run up, purely and simply because I intend to indulge.
When I see a bowl of sweets, I’m grabbing a fistful. When I see a plate of mince pies, I’m having two. Hell, I’ll even eat Christmas cake and I don’t even like it.
Any way, here is my patented Christmas over-indulgence recipe.
I think I shall call it my Christmas Coronary Concoction. Continue reading How to Give Yourself a Christmas Heart Attack
These are not technically business books. However, they are two of the most important books I’ve ever read and form the basis for so, so much of the principles for growth and prosperity.
They are, to my mind, in the must read category and should be compulsory reading for young people as soon as they’re ready to understand the principles. My only regret is that I didn’t read them earlier. Continue reading Business Books That Inspire Me Part II
I still remember when the Thriller video got its TV premier.
It was such a big deal. Like, really a big deal.
It didn’t fall short either. The hype was worthy.
But how, in these days of media saturation, overnight celebrity and more brand launches in a week than you used to get in a year, could someone replicate the buzz, the anticipation and the execution of something like the Thriller video?
When you can go online and literally see ANYthing, from real human executions to skateboarding dogs, is it ever possible to have something truly massive, momentous and awe inspiring in pop culture in this millennium?
No matter what I can think of, regardless of how far I allow my mind to stretch as to what someone could try to do to blow my mind, I keep thinking ‘meh’.
It’s for times like this that I am grateful to have a personal blog, an outlet to record the little moments in my life that manage to annoy and amuse at the same time, they ammoy me.
So here’s the thing.
Barclays Bank tell me I’m a great customer. So good in fact, I’m a ‘Premier’ customer and they invite me to register for their Premier service.
Well I’m all for flattery, they tell me I’m a ‘Premier’ guy then I need that validated with a certificate and a bloody shiny bank card (or other trinket) explaining to others that I’m a Premier chap. After all, there’s very little point my ‘Premier’ status being nothing more than a nod and wink between me and my bank. No. Matter of fact, I’d like them to put a poster up with my face on it at local branches in at least 40 locations to celebrate my Premier status.
So I’m off to register my premiershipness at the Barclays site and I meet with the following:
You see that?
Apparently I don’t know my own surname. In fact, worse and somewhat shockingly, for the past 33 years I’ve been a living a big fat bloody lie – my name, my identity, the thing that I’ve been calling myself for 3 decades is actually ‘invalid’. I have an ‘invalid’ name. My name, me, I, an invalid person. I have no validity to my name. My moniker is not of valid status. I’m far from Premier, I’m actually invalid. Barlcays’ computer told me so.
How will I be able to sign my cheques now?
What about my mailman? Did they think of the mailman? He thinks I’m Ryan O’Meara, not Ryan SyntaxError. He’ll be distraught.
Any way, thanks Barclays. We should acknowledge this landmark point in my life.
PS, Barclays – you might want to break the news of similar invalidity to John O’Shea, Ryan O’Neal and the biggest invalid of all, Dermot O’Leary.
Testing a new camera and I appear to have actually taken a photo of Chloe were she doesn’t look like a simpleton (which she isn’t, she just insists on taking photos like one).
Chloe examines something: