COFFEE STIRRER CENTRAL

My in-box is continuously overflowing with e-mails from coffee stirrer fans asking me if I’d like a university diploma or a larger manhood. Of course I always try to reply to them all, but I get so many e-mails nowadays that I can’t reply to everyone individually due to my busy and hectic life. Then like a blinding flash from a pocketed firework, the idea hit me: I could jump on the weblog wagon and start a blog page to show how hectic and busy my life is. So here it is, I proudly present:

A Stirrectomologists weblog ....

Wednesday 15 October 2003

Got a letter from the editor at the local paper:

Dear Mr. Rubbermullet,

Thank you for your letter dated 9/10, and your letters dated 2/10, 28/9, 24/9, 18/8, 30/7, 26/7 and 19/7. I can see that you have a deep conviction for the subjects you write about and we thank you for your correspondence to us. However we feel that our newspaper is perhaps not the best forum for airing these vitally important issues and feel you would be better served by directing this correspondence directly to the Prime Minister, or the Queen, who would be in a better position to act on these serious issues.

Please feel free to send your correspondence anywhere else.

Kind regards,

Philip Johnson

Editor in Chief

Tried ringing him to get the address of the Prime Ministers Office, but his secretary told me he was out of the office for the next few months.

Tuesday 14 October 2003

Went back to the charity shop to return the shoes. The manageress, a dour-looking lady with a woolen suit and steel glasses, accused me of causing two of her members of staff to leave. I explained that she ought to try and employ people who deal better with dissatisfied customers. I decided to leave the situation as it was when she threatened me with a shoe horn, and dropped my shoes in a bin on the way home.

Monday 13 October 2003

Got a phone call from my brother, Marcus, asking me to look after his son for the day. He dropped off Michael, explaining that he was off school with chickenpox, and they’d tried everyone else to look after him. We spent the day watching the Simpsons on video until Michael became bored and I let him go in the kitchen and make a drink with the Sodastream, while I carried on watching the telly. It was only after he’d gone and I went to make a cup of tea that I found the milk was fizzy. There was also a bottle of fizzy baked beans in the bin.

Sunday 12 October 2003

Day of rest. I ate takeaway curry, watched videos, studied a couple of specialist magazines and had a long bath. Was having a shave and after 5 minutes realised I had been trying to shave with a razor which still had the protective cover on it. Took it off and cut my face to ribbons.

Saturday 11 October 2003

Went out to the pub last night with my new shoes on, as they went well with my George sweater. Met up with Terry and had a good night except for his constant wittering about his wife who’s now wanting to sell the television and get a piano instead. Got a bit merry and sang "Bermuda Triangle" at Keiths Karaoke Knite in the Dogs Head and dancing along accidentally knocked into a lady who burnt her friends arm with a cigarette. Left soon after. Trod in a discarded kebab on the way home and today found my shoes had garlic sauce dried all over them. Also one of the segs was missing so I took them back to the charity shop and demanded my 35p back. They refused so I asked for the manager. Apparently she only comes in on a Tuesday morning, so I explained what a deplorable level of service it was, before being rudely ejected from the shop by two interfering customers.

Friday 10 October 2003

Had a visit from the council’s environmental health today regarding my noise complaint about the old lady next door. They did some tests and accused me of wasting their time. One pompous man even shouted at me to turn the stereo down. After they left I turned it back up, just to annoy her next door, and bemoaned to myself that because the cable TV isn’t working I can’t watch ‘Trisha’. On the way to the chip shop I saw Hilary walking towards me so ducked into a charity shop just to be on the safe side and pretended to be interested in the dead mens shoes. Luckily she hadn’t seen me and went straight past. Bought a pair of tan brogues.

Thursday 9 October 2003

The Editor

Telegraph & Argus

Bradford

Dear sir,

I was dismayed with a recent visit to the library to return two books which I was using for research: "Idiots Guide to the Internet" and "Kylie Minogue in Pictures". The bureaucratic librarian had the audacity to suggest I owed monies on these items as I’d had them since March. Forgive me if I’m wrong but surely my council tax pays for these books and therefore I partly own them. The librarian retorted that other people wish to borrow these books. The Central Library has thousands of books, more than enough to go round, so I was only borrowing my fair share.

After threatening to revoke my membership and get security I relented and wrote them a cheque. In this day and age, we should not have to be treat in this way and to that end I am setting up a petition to have this librarian removed from her position. I would like to invite readers who have been in a similar situation to contact me.

Yours sincerely,

J. Rubbermullet

That should do the trick.

Wednesday 8 October 2003

Disaster today. The cable TV box is broke so I’ve no telly. I didn’t admit to the cable company that I’d poured half a pint of Dr Pepper into it when I was putting on a video. They can’t get anyone to see to it until next Thursday. Decided to go out and visit Brian at the library, and maybe take back my overdue books. It’s useful having an ally on the inside at the library: I get my fines wiped off. Got there and found he wasn’t working. I actually thought I saw him peeping out from behind the horror section, but whoever had been there disappeared into the reference section. Had to pay a £12.45 fine to a very unpleasant woman in a tweed suit. Next time I see Brian I’m going to ask him to pay me back.

Tuesday 7 October 2003

Went out for some shopping. I was passed by a jogger dressed up in full regalia with a jogging suit, sweatbands, holding a bottle of water in one hand and a fag in the other. I might take up keep fit. At just 18 stone, I know I’m not overweight, but perhaps could do with losing a bit around my middle so I can get into my 38" waist leather trousers. Treat myself to chicken and mushroom pie and chips for tea followed by an apple turnover. Terry rang and said they’d had to buy a new kettle as they couldn’t get all the wax out. I sympathised and suggested names for the culprit. Spent the rest of the day deep in study with my specialist magazines.

Monday 6 October 2003

Got a phone call from Terry asking if I wanted to come round for supper with them as there were a few friends coming around. At eight I turned up to what would have been a pleasant evening had it not been for five screaming kids tearing and fighting their way through the house. We had our supper of thai tofu soup with soda bread which I spiced up with a squeeze of Primula cheese spread from the fridge, followed by a ginger and carrot souffle which made me gip. I took the trouble to tell Terry’s wife, Annabella, that it was revolting, but instead of taking this criticism in good grace, snapped back that she thought I was revolting but didn’t go around announcing it in public. When everyone had calmed down we switched off the kitchen lights and lit lots of candles which were put onto plates, saucers, teacups and whatever could be found to hold them. Terry got out the cards and we started playing Blackjack for matchsticks at the dining table. After Terrys brother Martin had won the full box of Cooks, Annabella put the kettle on for coffee. All of a sudden people were coughing and spluttering. I took a sip of coffee and discovered it had an invisible layer of candle wax in the top which instantly solidified on my teeth and tongue. The toothpicks came out but the party soon ended. I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I’d stuck one of the candles into the end of the kettle spout. Still picking wax out of my teeth at midnight.

Sunday 7 September 2003

Phoned my parents to say hello. They moved to the north of Scotland 17 years ago so I don’t get to see them very much. My mother asked me what I’d like for Christmas. When I explained that we’re still in July she replied that she’s going on a trip down to Aberdeen and wants to get all her Christmas shopping sorted. I suspect she may be bored. My father works long hours at a co-op, so she’s stuck inside most of the day. Told her what’d happened with Hilary and she said "You’re like the midas touch but in reverse, everything you touch turns to sh*t". I was a bit put out by this and was in such a bad mood, I furiously cleaned the house. I managed to splash bleach down my trousers which ruined them, put a large dent in the fridge door with the ironing board, and knocked one of my A-Level certificates off the wall and broke the frame. Going to go to bed early.

Saturday 6 September 2003

Awful, awful day today. Hilary returned from holiday to find her garden covered in marmite, eggs and flour and her front door coated with dried vomit. I was hoping the rain would have washed it away by now. But the worst was when she opened the door. The mat was ankle-deep with a large oozing pile of rotting cat food with her mail sticking out of it like ‘wafers in a sundae’. The cat has spent the last week using the magazine rack as a toilet. Her plants are dead. I am not to contact her ever again. Apparently the key does work in the door, you have to push the door and turn the key at the same time. I’m sure she never told me that. I just hope she doesn’t see what I’ve done to her car. Bought a box of cherry bakewells to help me calm down.

Friday 5 September 2003

Rang Brian and Terry to see if they fancied going out tonight. Brian couldn’t because he was on nights at the library as they’d had an emergency consignment of large-print in to catalogue. Terry agreed as he said he’d be glad of any excuse to get away from his ‘bitch wife’. I’m surprised to hear such talk from a social worker. We agreed to meet in the pub for eight. At a quarter to ten he turned up and explained he’d had trouble getting Siobhan and Ruben to go to bed, as his ‘bitch wife’ insists on them being able to choose their own bedtimes. He drank four double vodka and cokes in quick succession, went on a rant about ‘bastard children running him ragged’ and ended up fighting with a mechanic in the pool room doorway. I have to say he’s not usually like this. I left him there and have just got home with a lovely seafood pizza, some fries and a can of diet Dr. Pepper. Hilary’s back tomorrow. Not looking forward to that.

Thursday 4 September 2003

Sent a letter to the local paper complaining about the number of dead pigeons there seems to be about today. I quite often write to the newspaper, it’s a bit of a hobby of mine, plus it helps to inform people by providing them with the benefit of my extensive knowledge. Mind you, there’s a lot of moaners out there. My last letter to be printed, which the paper unfortunately entitled "Why I’m glad Town got kicked out of the league", was met with a torrent of personal abuse in the form of letters, phone calls, pizza deliveries, and an incident in the co-op where an elderly gentleman waved his stick at me, asking ‘can you run lad?’.

Wednesday 3 September 2003

Replaced Hilary’s broken wing mirror today. It went okay apart from a mishap with a screwdriver which gouged a deep scratch down the passenger door. Fortunately the car’s white so I improvised a quick disguise using Tippex, which I’m confident she won’t notice. At least for long enough for her not to suspect I’ve done it. I’m a little worried as there’s a definite smell coming through Hilary’s letterbox. I hope the cat’s eating okay. Later I was tidying at home and found a takeaway seafood pizza from last Saturday on the stereo turntable. I decided not to risk eating it so threw it out for the birds.

Tuesday 2 September 2003

Horay! My redundancy money has come through. I was made redundant last month from my job at a call centre. It was strange because I don’t know of anyone else who was made redundant, although my manager explained they were all from other departments. I’m not too upset about it though, I was thinking of having a change anyway having been there for 17 years, so it’s the party-on-down boogie wonderland high life for me for the moment. Bought some new Hoover bags and cleaned up the house. Went round and fed Hilary’s cat. I checked through the window and it stared back at me with a look of distaste, so I guess it must be okay.

Monday 1 September 2003

Went shopping for food today. I was heading back and called at Hilarys to feed the cat. Walking up her path the carrier split and everything crashed out of it. The cherry bakewells were okay, the packets had dented a bit, but the flour, the jar of marmite, and the eggs went everywhere. I cleared up the worst of it but it’s made a bit of a mess of her garden; a cloud of flour has coated just about everything in sight. A passing old lady made a crack about "flourbeds". I wasn’t impressed with her humour and took the trouble to tell her. I’m shocked at pensioners nowadays: the language she came out with was disgraceful. I had to look some of the words up on the internet. Later, I was washing up after having had a lasagna for dinner when I noticed the packet said ‘feeds four’. How can it feed four when I can eat the lot and still have room for a bakewell?

Sunday 31 August 2003

Woke up still in my chair with a very bad head. Thought I’d had an accident until I realised the wine bottle had tipped out onto my lap. I don’t know what happened last night, the last thing I remember is dancing round the living room to ‘Copacabana’ very loudly. I changed and went round to Hilarys’ and tipped some more food through the letterbox. Unfortunately the smell of cat food made me violently poorly. Down the door and all over the step. Not having anything to clean it up with I left and hoped it would be washed away if it rains. Then I realised the cat needed water. I shuffled round to the shop and bought a pack of plastic dishes and a bottle of water, posted 3 or 4 dishes through the letterbox and poured the water through. I’m sure some will have been caught by one of the dishes. Spent the rest of the day sipping water and was well enough by the evening to get a takeaway pizza, some garlic bread, fries and a diet Dr Pepper.

Saturday 30 August 2003

Went round to feed Hilary’s cat this afternoon. Was very annoyed to find the key wouldn’t unlock her front or back door. I looked through the window and saw the cat asleep on the chair. I was annoyed because this puts me in the very sticky situation of having a dead cat on my hands by the time she gets back. I had a flash of inspiration and nipped to the shops and bought some packets of cat food. If I can get food to the cat, at least it won’t starve, so emptied a couple of packs through the letterbox. It’ll be okay for the week that way. Decided not to go out tonight after last weeks debacle, so I’m going to stay in with a bottle of wine or two and watch National Lottery Winning Lines and a couple of my specialist videos

Friday 29 August 2003

Hilary called round. She’d got her window sorted on her car insurance. Told them someone had tried to break in. I gave her the money for the excess she had had to pay and promised to put a new mirror on while she’s on holiday. She left her spare key and told me how to feed the cat and water the plants. I don’t remember agreeing to water any plants, but thought it best not to confront her on this issue. We made up and I had her make a cup of tea and fetch out the cherry bakewells (only the Morrisons ones though, I keep the Mr. Kiplings hidden). After she’d gone I went to the chip shop and bought my usual. The woman was stifling a laugh when I went in, I thought I’d make some light-hearted banter with her so I asked if she was married. She stopped smiling and said no. I replied enigmatically that I thought not and left with my lunch in a carrier bag. That seemed to go well, I’m going to ask her to ask me out next week. Possibly.

Thursday 28 August 2003

Still no answer from Hilary. Perhaps she’s at Weightwatchers. She’s been going for 8 months and has managed to lose 3lb. I can’t say that she looks any thinner though. Finally got through to Brian, one of my other friends. Said he’d been out last weekend on a TA course which was why he didn’t answer his door on Friday. I thought this a bit strange as I didn’t mention that I’d been round. It was also news to me that he was in the Territorial Army as he weighs over 20 stone and has a built up shoe. I asked if he’d like to come round tonight to watch my new Barry Manilow video, but he said he was on a nightshift at the library. He always seems to be.

Wednesday 27 August 2003

Went round to Hilary’s to replace her wing mirror. I’d managed to take off the old one and was bolting the new one on when it started slipping off its spring. I spun to try and catch it, put the passengers window through with the adjustable spanner and the new mirror smashed on the ground. Hilary strangely didn’t show any emotion, went back in the house and locked the door. Spent an hour knocking at her door but she never answered. I assume she must have fallen asleep. I found a Lidl carrier bag in the hedge and taped it to the window to secure her car and posted the car keys through the letterbox. I’ll phone her later when she’s woken up.

Tuesday 26 August 2003

I phoned Hilary and went round. She’d decided to forgive me on proviso that I agree to babysit her cat whilst she goes on holiday next week. I thought it best not to mention that it won’t come near me since I accidentally waxed its tail last year. She seemed in a much better mood with me when I told her about my weekend exploits and we went off to buy a new wing mirror. I didn’t have time to fit it so I told her I’d come round tomorrow to do it. When I got home I found I’d got a letter from the Claims firm regarding my claim against the bus company for using an obscured bus. It seems they don’t want to take up my case after all, and had the tenacity to suggest it was my fault for trying to tune into Ken Bruce whilst reversing. Ridiculous. You’d think they’d be crying out for people to claim judging by the number of adverts they put out on the Sci-fi channel.

Monday 25 August 2003

Came out of hospital this morning. It was a weekend I will never completely remember. I couldn’t muster up any of my friends on Friday, as they both seemed to be out when I called round. So I thought I’d go out regardless and headed off to the ‘Bike and Saddle’. During the evening I was convinced that a lady standing at the bar had been featured in a recent issue of one of my specialist magazines. Having had a couple of bacardi and cokes, I was feeling a little brash and smilingly congratulated her on her excellent feature. She didn’t seem at all pleased and introduced me to her husband who was quite rude about my new cardigan. I patiently explained to him that although it is a poly-cotton mix, perhaps it would be better to wear than the vest he had on as it would cover the horrendous homemade tattoos on his arms and he wouldn’t need to feel self-conscious about his hairy back. Aren’t hospitals busy at the weekend? I think I’ll ring Hilary to apologise and ask her to bring round some cherry bakewells.

Friday 22 August 2003

As is usual on a Friday I treat myself to fish and chips, peas, battered sausage, a breadcake and a can of Diet Dr. Pepper. I’ve often wondered why the lady in the chipshop always smirks and points me out to her colleague as I stand waiting for them to open up. For the last few months I’ve been coming round to the idea that she quite fancies me. I always hear her laughing to her friend as I leave the shop. I think I might approach her on this matter and ask her if she wants to ask me out. Next week maybe. Finished off my lunch with a cherry bakewell or two, and spent most of the afternoon engrossed in my research. I rang up the council again to complain about the old lady in the flat next door. Now I don’t have anything against people of her age, but why does she have to have so many visitors at all hours of the day: church, relatives, district nurses? The noise of banging doors and cheery banter is unbearable: they sometimes keep me awake all hours of the morning to the point that I have to get up. The council said they’ll send someone round to check on the noise levels but I’m not expecting anything to come of it. I was quite cheered by the thought that if Hilary isn’t talking to me I won’t have to replace the wing mirror I knocked off when I reversed her car into partially hidden bus. I might ring round my other friends to see if anyone wants to come out with me tonight. I’m going to boogie on down and paint the town cerise!

Thursday 21 August 2003

I’ll never understand women. Flowers are everywhere: in gardens, parks, roundabouts, graveyards. Everywhere. I thought she’d be grateful I’d thought about her, instead she slung the wreath at me and screamed obscenities. I would have thought that hand-picked flowers would be a much better sentiment than ones bought at the Shell Shop? I suggested helpfully that she might be a bit highly strung owing to her possibly being on her period. She began throwing plantpots at me, so I thought I’d better retreat back to my flat. I’m still picking bits of gypsophelia off my jumper today. This has put me in an uncomfortable situation, as she still has the handkerchief I lent her after her mothers funeral last week. I’ll leave it ‘til after the weekend to see if she’s calmed down.

Wednesday 20 August 2003

One of the biggest pleasures of having a large video collection is being able to catalogue it all and store it in alphabetical order. In my database I can type in any keyword and hey-tesco, a list of all video descriptions containing the keyword are instantly listed within minutes. I completed my database and filing system today and tried it out by typing in a common keyword which I won’t mention here but you might find in any specialist magazine. I was surprised to find that the search came up with a list of 114 of my 115 videos, especially as I didn’t know I had anything by Alan Titchmarsh. Amazing things computers. I can order a pizza, read the news, buy a house, car, pony, wing mirror for a Daewoo Matisse, but I can’t figure out how to. Got Hilary some flowers to apologise for yesterday. Will take them round tonight.

Tuesday 19 August 2003

Hilary came round unexpectedly. I was polishing off a pack of Mr. Kiplings Cherry Bakewells and a bottle of Dr Pepper when she appeared at the window gesticulating wildly. Apparently she had tried to phone me all morning, though I explained that I had been on the phone to a specialist number. She sobbed as he told me she had tried to assemble an Ikea ‘Klap’ shelf unit but hadn’t put it up correctly and it had smashed her entire late mothers Franklin Mint collection. I may have been slightly unsympathetic and possibly overcritical of her DIY skills, as which she inexplicably began screaming "Don’t you ever call me an inept overweight lesbian you f*t sociop*thic b*st*rd w*nker". I tried to calm her down by offering her a cherry bakewell, which actually made matters worse. I’ll never understand women. Went out to buy some more cherry bakewells.

Monday 18 August 2003

One thing which never fails to continually suprise me is how emotional people can be about coffee stirrers. I was on the way back from the newsagents after buying various specialist magazines for my personal research, when a man came out of Burger King stirring his coffee and brashly binned a fine example of a Whitstanley Ribwell with classic internal ghosting. When I confronted the gentleman to make him aware of the value and history of the said stirrer, he became very emotional after a few minutes, called me by various names I coincidentally later found repeated in my magazines, and caused my nose great bleedage. It heartens me to know that people can be so passionate about stirrers. Went to casualty.