“We’re Breaking Wind At 95 Miles Per Hour!”

Leeds was shut today due to wind.

I mean, it was only one road, but you’d think that the whole of the city had been closed off because – and I don’t think this is too much of an exageration – at half-five as I left the office to come home it was an absolute clusterfuck of traffic chaos.

I don’t drive. I have no desire to drive. Driving a car does not appeal to me in the slightest. So I can’t really comment on it. But as an observation, do you really think that if you – as a car some way back down the traffic jam – beep your horn, the other cars in front will suddenly move? Like they’ve just forgotten what it is they’re supposed to be doing and only your helpful toot has helped them to realise the error of your ways? Because I can tell that it doesn’t. All it does is show that you, for whatever reason, deem yourself to be more important than the other people in the traffic jam and are some kind of attention-seeking bellend.

I’m sorry. That sounds like a rant. I’m not in a very good mood. Because for half of my journey home some bloody woman was basically sitting on my leg.

I didn’t ask her to. And nor would I have asked her to either.

But for some reason she insisted on doing it. And then fidgeting about. And standing up every time she thought another seat – a double, so she could sit with her deaf friend and not have to shout across the aisle – was coming free. It wasn’t coming free, all that was happening was that an old man with one of Sherlock Holmes’ hand-me-down hats on kept standing up to look at the sodding traffic.

Basically my bus was a hotbed of badly behaved passengers. Not in a tinny music playing rapscallion kind of way. Just in a bloody annoying way.

And the bus was late. And it only went as far as Mirfield and it was all because of the bloody wind.

Did I mention a woman sat on me for the better part of an hour? Did I mention that?



All Things Bright and Beautiful

The Monday after the clocks move on
And there’s something you’ll always here
“It’s good going to work when the sun is up.
I love this time of the year.”

But, I will think, I don’t understand
For it was light at this time last week
But as I have learnt in situations like this
You just think it and never speak.

Someone will agree with them,
That the daylight is the best
Then they’ll look out of the window
Just to prove it’s the dark they detest.

Oh it’s really good to wake up
And feel the rays of the sun
Give them a couple of months however
And they’ll be saying it’s really no fun.

“Oh I was woken at half past four,
As dawn broke and came through the curtain”
But back in March you were saying it’s great
I wrote a poem, so of that I’m certain.

And so it goes on for the next few months
Until October is on us again
And then they will say “The nights are drawing in…”
These people are really a pain.

Five O’Clock Blues

I woke up at five o’clock
A morning or two ago
I hate that time, it really sucks
It makes me think “Oh no!”

Because in my head it’s nearly time
For the alarm to sound
And that’s the time to go to work
And out of bed I bound.

I genuinely felt a touch of woe
As I gazed upon the hour
It’s strange that something as small as that
Can carry so much power.

But the mood was lifted
And I even pumped my fist
Because just below the time, you see
Was a fact my brain had missed.

Because which ever way you slice it
Five o’clock’s not the best
But when it’s five on Saturday
You can just lay back and rest.

Because that was what my brain had missed
And what I’ve overlooked
I’d already worked the whole damn week
More time in bed was booked.

So as I snuggled under cover
And settled down again
I realised how awesome that feeling was
And long may weekends reign.

Fry For An Hour

The night the clocks go forward.

Stephen Fry’s even got in on this, now.

I mean, he literally is everywhere.

And now he’s the BBC’s face of clocks going forward. Or the voice of it. Or something. Because he’s got a show on Radio 4 about it, and a webpage about the show about the clocks going forward.

In much the same was a The Big Bang Theory is rapidly becoming the new Friends, as Channel 4 shows it endlessly in a desperate bid to hide the fact that apart from Hollyoaks, E4 content is practically non-existent, Stephen Fry is fast becoming the new Carol Vorderman.

Where once Vorders would have her face splashed across everything from Sudoku to the Internet – both of which you could be mistaken for thinking she invented, in much the same was as, prior to Mylene Klass, no woman had ever had a baby, we now have Stephen Fry as the face of anything that isn’t quite Science-y enough to merit getting Professor Brian Cox out of bed.

So, looking like an unkempt Hugh Grant as seen in a fairground mirror, Stephen is leading us through the myriad twists and turns of changing the clocks. And asking if we should bother, whether we should leave them as they are and a variety of other things that, at the end of the day, won’t make a blind bit of difference to the fact that the clocks are going forward and all day tomorrow people will annoy you by saying things like “…but it’s really only ten o’clock…”

It wouldn’t be so bad if this didn’t happen every time the clocks changed. Someone comes out and tells you why it happens, someone else says that it shouldn’t happen because of a reason involving daylight in the evenings which, apparently would save hundreds of thousands of pounds in energy bills because people wouldn’t have to use as much to light and heat their homes. Because changing the clocks so they’re permanently set an hour later (i.e. not putting them back in October) somehow makes winter warmer? And then there’s someone from Scotland who says if you do that it’s bloody ridiculous because it won’t get light until 10am in the morning. And the people in London turn their noses up and bemoan the lack of more daylight for drinking cocktails on a veranda somewhere.

Apparently, someone’s even proposed that we have GMT+1 and GMT+2, which is just like we have now, but an hour later than that.

Which means it wouldn’t get light in Scotland until lunch time. Or something.

But if we do that, why are we still calling it GMT. There would actually be a time zone change at the point at which GMT is calculated. Which means that GMT probably wouldn’t be GMT.

Doesn’t it?

Help me Stephen…

Sad To See You Go

Zayn has left One Direction
He’s had it with that life
He wants to live like a normal person
With Little Mix for a wife.

But people haven’t coped too well
Young and old alike
They’ve asked for compassionate leave at work
I’d say, “On your bike!”

Because if that sort of thing’s allowed
Time off for when you’re sad
And it’s not even for a family member
Like your mum, your aunt, or dad.

Well that kind of sets a precedent
To take a day of leave
When something you like comes to an end
And you need some time to grieve.

I’m not sure, if you have a job
You can take a day of leave
When a member quits a boy band
Leaving wotsit, thing and, erm, Steve

I quite liked the Sugababes
When they were still about
Think of the days I could have had
To mourn when one dropped out.

I think I missed a trick with that
Steps and Atomic Kitten too
I can’t believe I went to work
When I could’ve stayed home to boo.