DTRMCR if you were going to a French-themed fancy dress party, what would you go as?
Yesterday at 11:58pm via Facebook Text Message · Comment · LikeUnlike
Tomos
cheese eating surrender monkey. easy. next
21 hours ago · Delete
Chelle
the moulin rouge!
21 hours ago · Delete
Jimbo
What would I go as? The funniest Brother I know....
Groucho Marx. I know he's not French but then its all about the walk and 'tache really.
21 hours ago · Delete
David 'king-of Daves' Skinner
a german
20 hours ago · Delete
Showing posts with label rideout. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rideout. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Thursday, 15 October 2009
"Your tour guide for today is DTRMCR"
For the first time in months, I ironed a shirt today. My boss had asked, "Can you go to the senior managers meeting for me?" and I was eager to make an impression. Meetings was the theme of this week's class at college, and comparing today's meeting to Tuesday's chaos was an object lesson. "That's my homework done," I thought as I watched the head of the unit chairing with tact, purpose, humour and knowledge.
I met Steve Rideout after work for a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. We ended up taking a tour of noteworthy buildings: to Spinningfields; down Deansgate; Urbis; the Eye; and back to the G-Mex. Steve talked about cameras. I listened. Good company. A good man.
Walking home from the tram stop, I passed three young girls, eight or nine years old. They were scratching around in the fallen leaves, building piles and kicking them. "Go on," said one of them to another. "Ask him." She jogged over, stood up as tall as she could, and smiled:
"Do you have any money. We want to raise it up to charity."
I smiled, shook my head, and walked on. Good luck to the little bleeders. Raise it up to charity? Ha!
I met Steve Rideout after work for a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. We ended up taking a tour of noteworthy buildings: to Spinningfields; down Deansgate; Urbis; the Eye; and back to the G-Mex. Steve talked about cameras. I listened. Good company. A good man.
Walking home from the tram stop, I passed three young girls, eight or nine years old. They were scratching around in the fallen leaves, building piles and kicking them. "Go on," said one of them to another. "Ask him." She jogged over, stood up as tall as she could, and smiled:
"Do you have any money. We want to raise it up to charity."
I smiled, shook my head, and walked on. Good luck to the little bleeders. Raise it up to charity? Ha!
Labels:
funny,
manchester,
rideout,
work
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