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Joined 3 years ago
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Cake day: July 1st, 2023

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  • Disclaimer: I can write my entire knowledge of DIY and building on an ant’s dong in black marker

    A pal of mine started a business building ecologically-sustainable holiday lodges. They were built out of timber and hay, with a limestone render.

    They were beautiful and warm, but that was the result of years of battles with the planning dept who pushed back at almost every turn (despite absolute carbuncles going ahead no bother), and the architect who was more concerned with dropping prefabricated lodges in - defeating the selling point of being as green as possible.

    I appreciate your input though, if there was ever such a thing as an across-the-water fist bump, this would be it!








  • An old colleague of mine worked at a different office - he got fed up of the rat run and took a job within a stone’s throw of Stansted Airport - close enough that a hotel or carpark shuttle bus covered his route.

    He couldn’t be arsed with London and Essex house prices so he bought his house near Shannon (yes, in the Republic of Ireland) and commuted by plane every day. The major problem with that was if he didn’t book a flight when they were released (where it was about fifteen or twenty quid return!), or if there was a short notice job came in that changed his hours, he was royally fucked and it cost him a fortune.

    I should imagine his carbon footprint was somewhere between “Chinese concrete factory” and “literally burning petrol in the back garden for a laugh”.

    A friend of a friend did something similar in east London - couldn’t be holed with the London house prices so got a place in some Paris suburb and commuted by train most mornings, only staying over if there was a staff night out or a late working task planned.

    …and I sometimes complain about my ten mile commute.








  • I had a team leader ten years ago or more when I worked in a incident management room, where he would be the duty manager for the south of the UK.

    You could tell something was going to happen or a griefy job was coming in, because he’d nip out for a fag for fifteen minutes just seconds before the first phone call would come in.

    It was almost impressive, and once most of the policy or callout decisions had been made, he’d come back in with a cup of tea oblivious to the whole thing.

    Absolute legend of a bloke really, I was just jealous that I didn’t have that sixth sense.