My week in a Sardine Tin

Hello again. I have to start off by apologising for last week's substandard, very poor, could do better post. It was uterly, utlery useless (a bit like the RAF, as quoted from a leaked E-mail). This week's post (I hope) is a better.

This week my car was not very well. As regular readers will know, I drive a classic car, and I am the envy of car lovers everywhere! I own a 1986 Ford Escort 1.4 GL Estate, complete with characteristic rusty rear wheel arches. My car is nothing short of incredible (if I do say so myself), and has served me faithfully and reliably for a whole year. But alas, the dream could not go on...

I handed my car over to the garage this week, as it had a coolant leak. Not being very mechanically minded, I had hoped that it was a dodgy hose somewhere, and it would be a case of a bit of gaffa tape, £50 thank you very much. I had hoped! It started off badly, as I was 'delayed' at home (I overslept), so didn't arrive at the garage until 11am. I had agreed to use a courtesy car while my car was with them, and I naturally looked forward to it. Last time I got a choice of cars out of their showroom (and I got a 10 year old top of the range 1.6i Escort that went... very fast!). But we must remember that I was late, so I was punished. Harshly.

My car for the day (and thank god it was only for a day), was a Ford Ka. I'm sure it's a great little car, and many people really liked it. But that's just the point. It's a LITTLE car. I felt like I was driving one of those clown cars, that you have to sit on top.

But that's a GIRL'S car.... My courtesy Ka! (get the pun - Ka's pronounced car... ha ha ha...)

So, I get this car, and I find more and more things that annoy me about it. I have to start with saying that I didn't think that I would find a car with less spec than my 20 year old Escort. Granted, my car was far from the basic model, but technology has moved on so much! This Ka had the electrical ability of a walnut! No electric windows, no air-con, no CD player, not even electric mirrors (which my car DOES have...). Bearing in mind that this car is about 30 cm (1 ft) long, and my car is 5 metres (15ft) long, you'll understand my disbelief that this car needed POWER STEERING! You'd have to have lost the will to live to actually need power steering in a car THIS small...

Even the radio was less able than what I have in my car. This radio had the ability to remember three FM stations, and could only recieve FM stations (whereas my car saves 6 stations in each band [FM, MW, LW]). The display, despite being at least 10 years newer, looked like it was off a £5 wrist watch. See the picture below if you don't believe me. This radio is about three times the size of the car, yet had all the sophistication of a 1940's wireless!
Less ROLLING stones, and more STONEage!: check out the wrist watch inspired display.

So after my initial rants, we move onto me actually driving away. The garage is in Bognor, and I was going to University in Chichester. I was using the A259, and just before Chichester, there is a bit of dual carriageway. As with any courtesy car, it's law to see what the car is able to do. I was impressed, the car pulled well (a good point!?!?!). Whenever I 'put my foot down', I always keep an eye on the rev' counter, to see how hard the car is working. This car didn't have one. The engine didn't even make good car noises, so it could have been about to blow up, and I wouldn't know. Just shifted up to be on the safe side.

But also, I have to point out how small the wheel is. Most cars have a wheel that could be descibed as plate size, or bigger. This car's steering wheel was more closely related to the saucer family. It was tiny. Mind you, the car didn't need anything bigger.

All revved up? I was, but as for the car - who knows...

I arrived at Uni, very annoyed with the whole driving experience. But hey, it was only for a day. Bit of gaffa around a hose. Right? Wrong. I got a call from the garage: new radiator, new water pump, new cam belt - £256 thank you very much. Brilliant. Bearing in mind I've done 14 000 miles in the car, I suppose that's not really too bad. So I'll pay it. Real downside though, I couldn't pick the car up until the following evening.

But the story doesn't end there. Oh no. With each passing day, there was a supply problem. And with each day , I realised something else I hated about the Ka. The suppliers had trouble getting me a radiator, as my car was 'so old' (cheeky beggars...). The next day, the suppliers had sent the wrong radiator. Lastly, on Friday (after spending 4 days in that... sarding tin) I got my car back.

Other problems with the car included: the shape reminded me of high heeled shoes (I'm not that kind of bloke); it didn't acclerate from standing very well (I got to just the point where I'm thinking "Oh my god that car is going to hit me!" and the car finally finds some power); and on the last day, the indicator noise went mad, and just kept clicking. Kept clicking so much, that it came to the point where I went mad and quietly asked the indicator clicky noise thing to "SHUT UP!!!!!".

Eventually Friday came, and I saw my repaired car! I paid the bill (which I was happy to do, to get my comfortable, fast, reliable, and able car back), and went into the garage. I sighed with relief, and ran to my car, and gave it a great big hug! I love my car, and really missed him. The gearbox may be so far apart that you have to go into different counties to go from 1st to 2nd gear (5th gear is in Norfolk), and you may need arms of steel to steer the car. But when you look behind to reverse, you're in no danger of hitting you nose on the rear windscreen, there's actually a small country behind my seat! It is my car, and I love it. As my friend Lee said to me: "It's all about the Escort!" I love it!

Give your Escort a hug on this Sunday 25th September - International (Andy bourght an) Escort Day!

On a special note, I have to celebrate a whole year of Escort. It was on year ago today (Sunday 24th September 2006) that I bourght my car. It was a sunny Saturday last year, that my car rolled smoothly out of the show room in Bognor. It was a pain to turn the wheel, but I've loved him ever since. Long live the Escort! Happy International Escort Day everybody (as today shall be known as from this day forward)!

A NOTE TO REGULAR READERS: If you actually enjoy reading this sort of dribble, I've noticed two kinds of readers. There are those of you that read this in a weekly slot (mainly to pass the time at work [Paul Tyler]), and those the check as often as possible to see if I've posted again. I try and update this blog weekly, on Sunday evenings. So if you need to read my posts as soon as they come out, try 12pm Sunday night... If I add extra posts, I'll tell you. Cheers.

Finally, a quick message of best wishes to Richard Hammond and his family. I'm sure you're all aware of the horrible 300mph accident that he was iinvolved in on Wednesday, and I wish him all the best in his remarkable recovery. Adventurous presenters like Hammond are to be celebrated, and we need him back!

If you drive a Ka, love it, and I have grossly offended you, why not leave a message telling me to shut up, and how rubbish Ford Escorts are.

If you would like to drive my car (keep on dreaming) why not leave a comment, and I'll try and get you the best treatment available...

Don't forget - catcouk.bebo.com. Updated monthly.

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Don't forget this week's thrilling post below....

Why does my DVD player hate Star Trek?

Firstly, I must apologise. This weeks blog rates no Escorts out of five, it's the Sunday Sport of posts, it is as lame as the Grand National winner 1937 (although I'd expect that horse is actually dead). To sum up, this week's blog is crap. Sorry, but this week has been a bit of a slow news week. Let's hope for better material next week.

As I've already explained, just about bugger all intersting has happenned this week. Ha ha ha - I went to work, what a blast! Because our lucky lecturers went away with the Foundation Degree students on a residential, we've had zip, zero, nuddah lectures (well after Tuesday's environmental rubbish). So as I'm sure you can imagine, I'm clutching at straws with this week's post.

For my first straw clutching attempt, I'll explain this week's title. I bought my DVD player in January 2004, and it works absolutly fine. But as with all things, there came a time when I had to buy my first box set. Being a bit of a trekkie (well more than a bit, but I don't have any pointed ears), I decided my first box set would have to be the original Star Trek series. Christmas 2004, and then the January sales 2005, I managed to get the box set, and The Proffesionals!

Right from the word go, my DVD has always had a problem with Star Trek DVDs. Whenever I put "The Proffesionals" in, or "Starsky & Hutch" or anything that's not Star Trek, the player's fine. But, if I try to put a Star Trek DVD in, my DVD player tries to cut my hand off! The tray will open, I'll go to put the DVD in, and the tray will close. It's not like it opens and closes straight away everytime, sometimes I try and catch it out (hover over the open DVD tray for a while). Just when I think it's safe, I try to put the DVD in, and WHIRRR - the tray slides in again!

Told you I was clutching at straws!

Second load of straws I'm clutching at this week is a psychic pregnancy test. No, I'm not pregnant (saucy git), and niether have I got a friend pregnant (even saucier git). Whilst at work, we ran out of customers, and I was banished to... [shudder] SHELF STACKING!!!!!!!

As horrendous as this all sounds, I didn't have to actually stack the shelves, I just had to do what's known as 'facing-up' (bring all the products to the front, facing the same way). I was sent to the Health & Beauty department (was my supervisor trying to tell me something?), and had to 'face-up' items from toothpaste, to medicines, and from condoms to pregnancy tests. Whilst facing up, I found this one test that claimed it could tell if you were pregnant 4 days early!

No I'm not a women, and I'm sure that has a very serious, completely understandable meaning, but to my mind, that implies it can tell you are pregnant 4 days before conception? How does it know this? You're going to get lucky in 4 nights time, and you'll have forgotten protection! If you know how it works, please tell me.

Lastly, I must inform you that Robbie Williams and Angels is spreading! I regret to tell you that I was joined on stage recently at an NTC disco (who are the NTC? Click Here!). Scott, Graham, and Ian (Abdulha to his friends) all participated in forcing my on stage for the grand finale to Saturday night's Disco. What a mistake that was. Although I'm sure we were all in perfect tune, we weren't exactly in tune with each other... Well it was a good floor clearer anyway!

Thanks for putting up with this rubbish, let's hope for something better next week! Even though it was all rubbish, and went no where, this week's post was still mind-numbingly long. As long as it was boring! Excellent...

If you think this was up to my usual 'standard', and I'm usually rubbish, why not leave a comment telling me to stop boring you to death.
If you appreciated this little view of my world, why not leave a comment, and tell me that you;d pay money to read this (please leave your credit card details).
If you are a women, and understand what that pregnancy test meant, why not leave a comment, saying what a stupid bloke I am, and give all us ignorant guys a full explanation. No really.

Lastly, you can check my Bebo out now. Thanks. catcouk.bebo.com

Hot Shots: Part Deux!

...Last time on CATCOUK...

Read the last article, it's only just down the page one item! BEWARE: This is the second part of a two part post. If you don't read the first part, you might not understand the first part.

So, picking up, where I left off, I am standing in the middle of the student bar, wearing nothing but a smile. Of course the students are far more interested in the donkey, and the chocolate fountain (which by this point was over flowing). I had my glass of dish water, and was being challenged to a down in one. See, I told you to read the first half first.

For those of you that actually have read part one, you'll know that all of the above is a load of old nonsense. I have just sung Angels at the Karioke, and (according to my friends [probably drunk]) I may have even sung it well. I would like to have lived up the hipe a bit more, but I had to dash out the bar to move the car. I hadn't yet paid the car parking permit price (an unbelievable £20 increase on last year [£30]), so I parked my car outside the library in the 30min short stay park. Every 30 minutes I dashed outside to move the car around the car park, and back to a different bay. Although it's no return within 3 hours, I parked in a different bay each time, so I guessed there was safe...

5 of my Uni friends decide to go on to Thursdays (Chichester's only 'Night Club' - if it can be accused of that). There were also a load of Holly's friends (whose 21st birthday we were celebrating) and housemates. Unfortunatly, I had just bourght a pint of Cola (THINK don't drink and drive...), and being as strapped for cash as I was (£7 to live off for the week), I wasn't going to waste it. Apologies to the Zee Bar for nicking a pint glass.

When I rolled up at Thursdays (having transported my pint glass thge whole way), the glass was straight in my hand, and I was drinking out of it, whilst locking the car. In the bad light, I must have looked like a right alcoholic. Well, what would you think? Two blokes roll up to a night club in an old (classic) car, and the driver has a pint glass in his hand, already half empty...

It then strikes me (and my friend Ade), that I can't take the glass inside! So I quickly down my cola, and hand the glass to one of the bouncers. "Cheers mate..." Well, I didn't want broken glass on the floor. Once again, apologies to the Zee Bar - I guess you won't be getting that glass back...

Now, please bear in mind that I have very little money. The fee to get into the club is £3 until 11.15, and then £3.50 after 11.15pm. Imagine my relief when I got to the front desk at 11.13! May I just take a moment to explain a few things. I don't drink, and I really can't dance (no - really). In my observation, all you can do in a Night Club is drink and dance. So one has to ask - WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN A NIGHT CLUB!!! To be honest, I hate the things. All I like to do of an evening, is sit down, drink some cold coke, and chat. You simply can't talk over the boomin sound systems in clubs.

So may I just say that Thursdays has to be the best Night Club ever in the history of Andy - Ever! They have the normal dance floor (for normal students), a shots bar (again for alcholic [so normal] students), AND a massive garden with seats. As if that wasn't good enough (I love sitting outside), they also have a BBQ!!!! Almost my dream place (the fact that I had people smoking over me all evening was the only turn off).

Anyways, to try and answer some of the questions that I left last time:

Will Holly have a good 21st?
If drunkeness is any indicator of having a good time, the Holly must have had the time of her life! She could barely stand up straight! I'm sure you'd disagree Hols, but I was there (and I had a clear head). Also, when we got back to her house, we had to go and have a bounce on her trampolibe (by which point, she was pronouncing tram-ampoline...). She was still very good (far better than me), and she was doing some impressive things, but as it was so wet, she decked out of the tram-ampoline more than once. She asked in the morning if she'd been on it, and I told her. She said that probably explained those weird bruises...

Will Batman (my friend whose real name is Simon) poo his pants?
That afternoon, Batman had had a particularly dodgy chicken kebab. Understandably he got the Delhi Belly! He decided to go home about 1am, and managed to avoid pooing his pants. (Well that's what he tells us any way)

Will anyone get home before 6am?
Yes, to the best of my knowledge, we all were. (Holly tells me she eventually put her head down at 0545!) Good news, seeing as we all (Advebture Ed) had a 9 am lecture - which we all made it too.

Will I get lucky with some lovely young girl, and cure my problem?
I'm not one to kiss and tell, but let's just say that my disco tune is stll Madonna - "Like a Virgin.." To be honest, even if I had met someone, I just wanted to sleep by the time I got to Holly's couch. I was cream-crackered!

Will I get offered a contract with EMI to duet with Robbie Williams (following my Karioke success)?
Well what do you think? Would I still be wasting everyone's time with this blog if I had that sort of money? Do you think if that was the case, I'd have any women troubles?

That covers all of that. Overall, it was a great evening. I got to see Holly trying to chat up some bloke (although I don't know if she remembers it). I tell you - if you want some good entertainment, get Holly drunk, and then watch her chat up a bloke! What was the first quetion she asked? What car do you drive...

I also couldn't finish this blog, with saying a big thank you to Holly (have I mentioned your name enough?). Although it wasn't until 3.30am that my head eventually hit her couch, she was a very good host. I also extend the thanks to her house mates, for putting up with me. Holly - you were as funny as drunk (when we got home she couldn't stop making sure I was alright - not wanting to be a bad host). She kept offering me a drink, or some food. Anything I needed. To be honest, all I wanted was sleep. I know I've taken the mick, but the hospitality was appreciated. Lots of love.

And to finish the blog, I want to tell you of the 'morning after' events. I was up at 8am, and the house was dead. I carefully crept down the hall, and into the bathroom. I switched on the light, carefully and quietly, and started to wash. Then an almightly loud hum came from the extractor fan (I almost had a heart attack). It wasn't THAT loud, it just seemed loud. Ot then got to 0835, and Holly still wasn't up, so I woke her up. She was still very drunk, but the Diet Coke kept her going. We drove to Uni, and were just in time for lectures!!! Success.

If you think I'm a boring old git, and need to get a life (starting with no longer writing this blog), why not leave a comment telling me to get drunk!
If you are an eligabe attractive young lady (not too young obviously), and think you can help me out, leave me a message entitled - GET YOUR COAT, YOU'VE PULLED!
If you think I'm okay, and understand that I have no life, and that's why I write my blog, why not leave a comment telling me not to drink anything, and write this blog, wired up to a drip in the Hospital!

EXTRA: It started with Angles...

Just because this is an "Extra", son't let that fool you into thinking this is any less meaty that usual. In fact, this is more than qualified to be a regular post.

Well, I was going to post about what a lovely (if not quiet, short and dull) time I had in the Peak District with my University. But something came up this week that I have to share. It's probably going to leave me short for this week's Blog, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it...

This Tuesday was the lovely Holly's 21st birthday (again). Now when I say in brackets again, I do mean again. Because of different friends, and family, and university, she has managed to get herself 4 birthday celebrations! This one (actually being held on her birthday!) started off at the Student Bar (the Zee Bar) on Chichester Campus. I had a half-pint of Coke (a - I don't drink, and b - I was the driver), and realised that it was a Karioke night. I've never been to Karioke proper before. Some of the acts were really good (rating 4 Escorts out of 5 and above!), whilst others were... erm... how can I put this delicatly? Special (only scoring really low on the PUSHBIKE scale - not even good enough for an Escort). To be frank, some of the "singers" needed to be taken out and shot!

Anyways, when we were on our last residential, my group and heard some of my singing (almost on the cat-killing scale), and we had even sang some queen together one night! They egged me on, and so I risked facing an angry drunken bar mob, and went up to the stage. I had decided I had to sing Robbie Williams, as he and I have very similar vocal ranges. Neither of us can really sing. Don't get me wrong, I love his music, but he admits he's pretty limited.

I was going to sing "Let Me Entertain You", as I had it in my head, and it had been a popular choice of mine for shower rehearsals! Unfortunatly this was a particularly cra- rubbish disco, and all he had by Mr. Williams, was "Angels". The stakes were raised higher - sing this like a dieing cat, and the angry drunken mob would hang me from the rafters...

But it was Holly's birthday, and I decided I would do it for her (I couldn't afford a card or a present... scumbag university student). The lady with the Karioke did warm me not to cock the tune up, because SHE wouldn't let me murder it (like so many karioke tunes before it). I picked up the mike, and started saying why I was on stage "Good evening ladies and gents, this is..." there were no sound. The blooming mike was off.

Now nervous as, I turned the mike on, and restarted. "Good evening ladies and gents. This is going out to a friend of mine, who's birthday it is tonight. HAPPY 21st HOLLY!" Then the music started....

As some of you will know, I work with a disco company, and we nearly always finish on Angels. I have only ever sung this to take the p*ss, and ruin it. I couldn't do it now....

I started singing to early (on later inspection, the karioke music had too longer intro), so this shafted me. Not going well. But I recovered, got back in time with the music. My friends from my Uni course started to gather around the stage, and gawp. Is Andy actually doing that? I could see it in their faces.

The tunes progressing nicely, I'm on top of things, and I don't think I'm singing too badly. The people that can hear are smiling, and seem to be enjoying. I might just pull this off...

"I'm loving Angels instead....
[her comes the chorus]
And through it -" And it was here, just before the last word of this line, why I remembered I never really sang this song. It was one of those split second thoughts, but it meant alot.
"OH BUGGER, THIS SONG GETS HIGH HERE ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!"

"And through it - ALLLLLL
She offers me protection..."

I got there! Hit the note, no squeakyness, and even in tune. The crowd cheer - job's a gooden. I get through the next verse fine, and into the second chorus. And again, I realised another reason why this is a bad Karioke tune. After the second chorus, there is a long guitar instrumental. Most of the time during Karioke, you look at a TV screen, and sing the words, but during instrumentals, there aren't any words. Worst of all, I DON'T DANCE. What do I do for a 45 second musical?

At discos, Stuart (the boss) would do a VO (voice-over), and say thank you for coming, goodbye. What could I do? Well, I did what any good soldier would (although actually, I'm a sailor...)

AIR GUITAR! To much laughter and applause. 4 times I got away with it. The last time, I even switched hands! Although to be honest, on that side, my air guitar looks more like some bizarre sexual act...

Anyways, I get to the end, everyone cheers, I get a few hugs, and nice words. Thanks to Holly, Hannah, Kat, Batman, Phil, Charlie, Ade, Thom, and Owain for all supporting me down the front (apologoies to anyone I forgot).

You'll also be pleased to hear that there is a video of my Karioke! As soon as I get it off Phil, you'll get to see it! Check the next Blog to see how...

This has been a long post, and this was just the start! This therefore is going to be my first two-part episode. I guess I'm not stuffed for this weeks post after all...

Will Holly have a good 21st (again)?
Will Batman poo his pants?
Will anyone get home before 6am?
Will I get lucky with some lovely young girl, and cure my problem?
Will I get offered a contract with EMI, to duet with Robbie Williams?
Find out on Monday, ONLY at CATCOUK.BLOGSPOT.COM... (say it with a deep voice, it's more theatrical)

...to be continued...

Why a sailing BOOM should be called a sailing THUD!

Good day all! Sorry there was no Blog last week, but as you are about to read, I wasn't all too well, and I was very busy. Instead, those of you needing your regular dose of Andy, I will post again, later in the week. Jobs 'a gooden'!

On to this weeks post: On the bank holiday weekend, I organised and ran a sailing weekend at the NTC's sailing centre in Portsmouth. The weekend was superly successful, and everything happenned as I had asked/ planned! Well... nearly everything.

I managed to get a Peco (small sailing dinghy) for one of the sessions. The weather wasn't brilliant, in fact it was windier than my Dad after dinner (only without the bad smell). Because of this, the staff decided to tow us around to the lake, where it was sheltered. Unfortunalty, the shelter made the wind gusty, so I couldn't really trust the wind or the boat.

I was mucking about in the gusty areas, when I drop the helm (steering thing). The main sheet (ropey thing) was in a bit of a mess, so I decided to sort that out first. I was just finishing the rope, when I feel the rope on the back of my neck. In sailing, this is known as a 'jibe'. You never do this with beginners, as the boom (the thing along the bottom of the sail) moves from 90 degrees on one side of the boat, to 90 degrees on the other side of the boat - in LESS than a second!

It doesn't take a genius to work out that that is fast! I'd been doing this all day, but I had expected the jibes. This time, I only had enough time to think "Oh dear this is going to hurt!" before the jibe happened. One of the first things a beginner sailor will tell you, is that a boom is called a boom because it makes a "BOOM!" sound when it hits your head. Using that idea, I propose that the boom be renamed to a thud.

The boom struck my head with a very heavy thud, and took me clean out the boat. The next thing I remember after being hit, was looking up through the water thinking "What's going on here? Oh yeah I remember!" I surfaced just in time to see the boat fall on top of me. Knowing that I could pass out at any moment (it was a large hit), I got the boat upright straight away. If I'd gone unconscious, I could have drowned, I only wore a Buoyancy Aid.

Anyways, I acted so quickly, and got back on the boat, that the safety boat hadn't realised I'd gone over! With a bump the size of a small planet on my head (no joke, it was huge!), I had to re-rig my boat, and sail after a safety boat!

Of course, this isn't the end of the story! To try and make up for no Blog last week, we'll make up for it, by telling you the story of the Hospital. I arrived at the hospital, and went to reception. You have to consider that I have a second head growing (about the size of a large egg). The man on reception looked at me (and probably the lump) and asked "How can I help you?" I have a huge lump on my head, and I'm standing in the middle of A&E. It took forever to reply, as I just couldn't believe the utter stupidity of the question. I nearly said "Hi there. I'd like a quater-pounder with cheese, large fries" but decided to carry on instead.

After a series of questions about who I am, where I live, who my Doctor is, and all the rest of it, the guy on reception started recording how the accident happened. Please, still bear in mind that I have a large bump on my forehead, and the guy finishes his questions with "So you've had a sailing accident? And the injury was to your head?" I just stare back at the bloke, gobsmacked. All I could do was shake my head, and reply "Yes. Yes it was."

I see the nurse, and the doctor and they decided the injury was pretty minor, and no serious damage done. I explained to the doctor that I was running a youth weekend, and I ask if he'd got any bandages kicking around that he can wrap around my head, so that we can have a joke with the kids. He looked back at me, absolutly deadpan, and replied "That would be a waste of money wouldn't it." From this, we can assume the NHS really does have money problems - they can't afford a 60p bandage!

Well that's this post done. Don't forget to check later in the week, for the bonus extra!

If you enjoyed having a week off my Blog, really wish that I'd stop all together, and not bother with an extra post this week, why not leave a comment, and tell me to shut my mouth!

If you enjoyed this post, can't wait for the bonus post, and wish I'd post every hour or every day, why not leave a comment saying how much you enjoy living in the assylum! Cheers!