With my experience in filling in job applications you would expect a certain level of competence. Funny thing is, the encroachment of modern technology such as personal computers has meant that these days I fill in two or three a year (Please don't tell the government - they won't understand what I mean).

This last Sunday night however I was forced by a private education college to fill in one of their application forms manually. Okay, let's see if I can remember how to do this. Oh hang on, I need something to write with... Have I got any pens left? Do they still make those? Ahh... Here we go...

Filling these things in silence is dull. No, really, it's excessively dull. It's no good, I'm going to have to put the radio on. As chance would have it the radio station was having problems finding hit singles and instead played a load of classic rock. My chance discovery is that filling in application forms while listening to Led Zeppelin not only enables you survive the experience, but also complete the multitude of boxes without making a complete doctors signature of it. My conclusion then is thinking about filling in forms is definitely not recommended.

I think that made sense.

Filling in Forms

Now that I'm ready to go I discover just how anal application forms can be. First question is... Surname. Oh that's an easy one. Rail.

The second box asks me if I know my... Forenames. Actually, it so happens I do. Cal D.

Next question is... Name I would like to be called by. The temptation is enormous. Sir? Boss? Duke? Emperor of the Known Universe? Sigh. Oh all right I'll be sensible. Why is it employers have no sense of humour?

Now we come to the crunch. There's a big page of boxes demanding to know what my previous employment was and explain any gaps in it. Ah. Now there it's a problem because my unemployment doesn't look very good. Salary and Benefits? Yes, several times now.

Wow... That's going to impress them...

Sliding Doors

During the last week I was sat in my favourite seat in the second floor lounge in our local library. It overlooks a major road junction and all the drama and passion of everyday life is played out below me whenever I discover the book I'm reading is even more boring than that.

The irony is that the book was interesting. Not only is the book a very well considered analysis of King Arthur and his historical credibility, it also manages to list his family. Cousins, uncles, aunts, they're all in there. At this rate I'll find his phone number in chapter seventeen. I wonder if King Arthur has any vacancies? Most of the Round Table should died of old age by now surely?

Just when I got to the really really interesting bits there was a clatter outside, I dropped the book in suprise, and completely lost my place. The side door of a van passing the library opened by accident. Trays of fresh tomato's fell onto the road. The driver knew it had happened. He pulled over, shut the door securely, as he should have in the first place (important safety notice) and drove off, leaving two tons of red groceries lying in the road.

Luckily some members of the public were public spirited enough to help council workmen clear up the mess, and if I were honest, one or two simply helped themselves. Now I know what happens to roadkill.

The thing is though that side doors on vans are ludicrously dodgy. I know this from personal experience. I used to do a van driving job, delivering and collecting from customers in Maidenhead area. In Windsor there used to be a clothes shop run by the most ferocious French woman alive. She had obviously come to the conclusion that van drivers were a lower form of life and treated them as such, which, if I'm honest, I had something to do with, because I once delivered her parcels (Must deliver before 8:30am or die horribly) at 16:30 that afternoon. I may have got that one wrong.

Anyway, the point was that on another occaision when I succeeded in getting there on time and still got mauled within an inch of my life (good grief does this woman have any friends?), I collected some boxes of hers for delivery to some customer who clearly hadn't the guts to enter her shop. On the motorway I overtook a car and it beeped its horn insistently at me. At the time I couldn't see anything wrong and just assumed the other driver was related to a woman in Windsor. No. It turns out my side door was opening, and with only two miles to go before I reached the depot, her parcels fell out of the van and into the ditch. That did not go well.

But that isn't the only example m'lud. I now produce exhibit C, the Red Jasper Tour Van. The old Iveco van was our faithful transport between gigs in my glory years as the drummer for Red Jasper. We had a compartment put in next to the side door for the lads and any roadies who fancied helping us tote that box and lift that speaker cab. On one such trip with a willing volunteer, he made the observation that there was a draft coming through the door. I told him not to touch the door or the draught might get worse. The door sometimes fell off entirely. The effect was like telling someone on the verge of a parachute jump that we forgot to pack it.

So you see. Sliding side doors on vans are dangerous and must not be used without a government warning, lots of glossy advertisements, several bright yellow warning signs, and a man with a red flag walking sixty yards ahead of the vehicle. Trust me, they know how to make rules like that.

Invitation to the Royal Navy

Time again to wander down the hill and sample the delights of Turkish cuisine, which if you're into English culture, has nothing to do with confectionary. It's more to do with spicy ammunition for people who like throwing up in the small hours.

Thing is, the cheery bloke who cooks those kebabs for me has received a printed card inviting him to a presentation by the Royal Navy. Questions to be asked have been thoughtfully printed on the back of the invite, so if anyone forgot to think of a question, the Navy has thought of it for you. Okay, we had a bit of a laugh over it, but then I noticed the small print at the bottom said photo ID required.

It just proves how sophisticated and civilised we've become over the last four centuries. Now you get politely invited by a press gang.

RSVP

Copenhagen Global Warming

Oh no. They're at it again. Demanding money to save the worlds climate. And true to form, Giveaway Gordon has led the field with a whopping