I’m back and roasting away on a Sunday.

The furnishings may be different but targets remain the same. Here I take a sideways look at life and have the odd swipe at anything I deem fair game. For those who never saw the old Myspace blog – I hope you stick around now you’ve found me.

I am really happy with the new site but have to admit, it did take me a while with my technophobia, to get to grips with setting it up.

One of the things I found interesting was the WordPress tutorials and the constant references to napkins. Yes … I can see your puzzled expressions but I kept getting advice to write all of my ideas on the back of a napkin. Why? Wouldn’t a word document (seeing as I’m already on the computer) do the job just as well?

Napkins? Do WordPress have stakes in a party supplies firm that went badly wrong and they now need to get rid of all their stock?

Let the bulldozers roll!

It was sad to see pictures of West Bromwich Police Station waiting to be demolished. Sad mainly because of the activity during the preceding twelve months prior to its demise where management authorised decorations to cells, new signs on the front of the building, new shelving in stores, numerous other alterations and just about every department moving from one office to another in a bizarre game of musical chairs. All this in a place imminent to be bulldozed.

For the past three years, staff have worked tirelessly and with great professionalism while under the threat of job losses yet despite huge cuts, money was still wasted on a station with no future.

Organisations like the police need leaders with a vision for the bigger picture in a long term way. Unfortunately we appear to have those in charge who only see as far as the latest office makeover.

Nob of the week.

Quite astonishing has been the rant between comedian Sarah Millican and some of her fans. While performing at the Wolverhampton Civic, Ms Millican engaged in banter with the audience over filming on mobile phones. This seemed to be light-hearted until the row continued on a social networking site with Millican wanting recordings deleted, stating those filming were not welcome at any future concerts.

What planet is she on? Does she not realise without her fans, she is nothing. I will certainly look at her in a different light next time her whining voice is thrust upon me from the television.

She accused those responsible of partaking in nothing short of theft. Hmmmm. Got a new DVD you want to flog Sarah?

I kind of go with the thinking that if people are willing to shell out £20 to come and see you perform, it’s a bit of an own-goal to start slagging them off afterward.

An interesting phone call I took just now.

‘Could I speak to Mr Bright?’ a man with a very hard-to-follow accent, asked from the other end the line.

‘It’s Britt,’ I said.

‘Mr Bright?’


A long pause ensued until finally, the caller spoke again. ‘Mr Bright … I am ringing about a threat to your computer?’

‘Oh yes; go on.’

‘We have been monitoring and it seems your system has become infected.’

Oh Christ, it’s a Sunday, I don’t want cold-callers on a Sunday. ‘Let me stop you right there. There are no threats on my system, I am fully protected and there is no way, unless you have my IP address, that you could know about my system. In fact, the only threat to my system at the present, would appear to be you.’

Cold Caller was undeterred and continued with his spiel until I said I wasn’t interested in anything he was trying to sell.

‘I am not trying to sell you anything,’ Cold Caller said.

‘Then why are you ringing about an infection on my computer?’

‘I haven’t said anything about your computer.’

‘Yes you have, it was your opening line.’

He tried to continue but I’d entered “rant mode” by now. ‘Look, I’m not interested. You’re a scam trying to hack into my computer and if you are a genuine company, give me your business name.’

He did. He said it was ‘Pitt.com.’ I thought I’d check them up later so I asked for his phone number too and he gave me a number that despite him claiming to be calling from America, coincidentally matched my own home line apart from the last digit.

‘You think I’m stupid don’t you,’ I stated. I asked for his name.

‘It’s Pitt,’ he says. ‘P-I-T-T.’

‘And your first name?’

‘Brad. B-R-A-D.’

‘Brad Pitt? You are having a laugh now.’

He claimed he wasn’t but I’d lost it by then. I said as it happened, it was me who was making the joke. I had no intention of doing business and I was just keeping him talking to pump his company phone bill higher and as long as he wouldn’t hang up, I wouldn’t either.

‘You are very funny,’ he said. ‘Ha ha haaa!. Ha ha ha ha haaa! Can you hear me laughing? Ha ha ha ha haaa! Ha ha haaa! Ha ha haaa! Ha ha ha ha haaa …’

Five minutes later.

‘Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha …’

‘Look, I’m going to stop you there,’ I said. ‘Bored now. I don’t know why you won’t go away but it’s your phone bill. However, I need to go somewhere for a minute, therefore I’m going to have to put you on hold.’

I stuck the phone by my computer speaker, clicked the media player and started playing Queen. And I left him. I’ve made a cup of tea and he’s halfway through ‘Headlong’ now. Think I should see if he’s still there?

Load of scrap.

There they go again. ‘Scrap Ironnnnn!’

There wasn’t any here when you passed half an hour ago so why do you think they’ll be some when you come round again now? The amount of time your dulcet tones invade my ears these days, I’m guessing the scrap reserves will be all tied up in the next few days.

Anyway …

That wraps up my first Roast in the new home so I hope you’ll join me again. I’m off to see if Cold Caller wants to listen to ‘Night at the Opera’ next.